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Maine Republicans seem to be recovering nicely from the October 3 announcement by gubernatorial frontrunner Peter Cianchette that he’s quitting the 2006 race to spend more time with his wife and kids. The wife and kids, on the other hand, may require a longer period of recuperation, after Cianchette starts hanging around the house all day, making speeches about how the family has to regain its confidence and vision, and devising eight-point plans to improve lawn care. But for most in the GOP, Cianchette’s departure renews hopes the party will nominate somebody more competent and less boring than Democratic Governor John Baldacci. Baldacci is perceived to be vulnerable in his re-election bid, having spent his first term proposing bizarre schemes to balance the budget (let’s sell the Department of Health and Human Services to FEMA), oddball operations to make health care more affordable (slap a fee on insurance companies that forces them to raise rates, so the state can provide insurance for people who already have it, except now the rates are too high, so that can’t be done unless the state charges the insurance companies even more), and dealing with the need for property-tax relief and tax reform by passing a bill that did nothing about the former and ignored the latter. In August and early September, Cianchette was busy assuring potential supporters he’d take strong stands on these and other issues, thereby distinguishing himself not only from Baldacci, but also from his own wimpy 2002 campaign in which he promised to do something about some of that stuff. Maybe. "You’re going to see a different Peter Cianchette this time around," a Republican activist assured me. "He really understands what he has to say." "Peter gets it," a campaign worker said just before the candidate’s official announcement on September 13. "He knows he has to kick butt." Instead, he proceeded to kick the bucket. He blathered on about confidence and vision. He announced some kind of eight-point plan. He dodged every attempt to pin him down on specific issues. He acted pretty much like Baldacci. Nevertheless, Cianchette was the frontrunner. He had name recognition (isn’t he the guy who lost in ’02?). He had organization (Q: How can you tell the Republican State Committee from the Cianchette campaign? A: You can’t). He had muscle (former Congressman David Emery withdrew from the race, and businessman Kevin Hancock abruptly cancelled his campaign plans, both complaining of severe cases of twisted arm). He just didn’t seem to have any particular reason for running. And he still had competition. Before facing a re-match with Baldacci next fall, he’d have had to defeat a few annoying opponents (some with actual ideas) in the GOP primary in June. Cianchette didn’t think it was fair that he had to let mere voters decide if he was more electable than guys like Peter Mills and Chandler Woodcock (say, wasn’t he a character in Chicken Run 2?). So he quit. Just like he did in 2000, when he told party insiders he planned to run for the open state Senate seat in South Portland and Cape Elizabeth. A couple of other Republicans were interested, but Cianchette, the incumbent state representative from South Portland, muscled them aside. Then, shortly before the filing deadline for candidates, he announced he was skipping the race to concentrate on his "private and professional duties." The GOP scrambled to find a replacement (those who had earlier expressed interest were now otherwise engaged), ended up with a weak candidate, and lost a seat the party had held for at least a quarter century. Which might not have been quite so painful for Republicans if that hadn’t been the year the 35-member state Senate split evenly between the two major parties with one independent holding the deciding vote. If Cianchette — or either of the potential candidates he shoved aside — had run, the GOP almost certainly would have had the additional victory it needed to take control of the Senate for the first time in two decades. Having pulled this early-withdrawal stunt twice, Cianchette ought to have sealed the coffin on his political career. But in his letter to supporters announcing his decision to drop out of the gubernatorial race, that possibility doesn’t seem to have occurred to him. "I may have the chance to seek public office again someday," Cianchette wrote. "As a private citizen I will continue to participate in a meaningful and constructive way, and my commitment to our state is as strong as ever." Those Republicans considering a run for governor in 2010 shouldn’t be surprised if, shortly after announcing their intentions, they’re hauled into an alley by thugs wearing "Vote for Peter" T-shirts and given a choice between having their fingers broken or dropping out of the race to clear the way for Cianchette. I just hope somebody is willing to sacrifice their fingers. Give me a hand or, at least, the finger by emailing ishmaelia@gwi.net The Politics and Other Mistakes archive. |
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Issue Date: October 14 - 20, 2005 Back to the Features table of contents |
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