December 12 - 19, 1 9 9 6
[Governor's Race]

Contenders

Coming of age

Already pundits are picking Joe Kennedy as the odds-on favorite as the next governor of Massachusetts. The question: is he big enough to fill the shoes?

by Michael Crowley

Joe Kennedy is telling a lousy joke.

Speaking at Boston's Pine Street Inn homeless shelter before an audience assembled to celebrate improvements to the building, Joe has many important things to say about the poor in America.

But he just can't resist. Wearing his cocky, almost leering grin, he tries out a long "What's wrong with me, Doc?" gag with too much buildup.

It bombs.

But Joe's grin only widens. His blue eyes pierce the crowd, trying to win it over. He's getting a kick out of the flop. One detects the flicker of a class clown from yesteryear as he looks around

and shrugs theatrically.

"I laughed like hell in the car over," he pleads.

They laugh at that part, and so Joe returns to his real topic: the plight of the have-nots. Now, one detects a different kind of echo from the past.


Lieutenant Governor Paul Cellucci
Attorney General Scott Harshbarger
Rep. Joe Kennedy
State Treasurer Joe Malone


"When I hear all these politicians, it seems in fashion to get really tough on the poor," he explains. His voice rises. "We cut 25 percent of the overall housing budget without ever holding a hearing!" Now the jaw is jutting out, his tone is indignant, and he is gesturing to a climax:

"We need a sense of where we stand as a people!"

But the people might say they need a sense of where Joe Kennedy stands. That's because, thanks mostly to the luck of life's lottery, this peculiar combination of wisecracking jock and passionate bleeding heart is well-positioned to become the next governor of Massachusetts. And that makes some people nervous.

The man who may soon run the state is Joseph P. Kennedy II -- "Joe," as everyone calls him -- the 44-year-old US Representative from the Eighth District of Massachusetts. He is also the son of Bobby Kennedy, the former Attorney General slain on the brink of the 1968 Democratic presidential nomination; and he's the nephew of JFK and Senator Teddy. The family has always expected big things from the oldest of Bobby's kids. Now he is poised to become the first Kennedy ever to be called "Governor."

But Joe is still trying to convince. He may have grown up among legends, but he has a distinctly non-epic quality. One searches in vain for the cool grace of his uncle Jack, for instance. Where we imagine JFK pacing the Oval Office, solemnly contemplating the specter of nuclear war, we think of Joe leaning back in a chair, maybe shooting at a Nerf hoop. Where Teddy takes to the Senate floor for stirring oratory about compassion and social duty, we think of Joe hollering a little too loud.

To his detractors, he's a dim bulb, a bully who never learned patience or self-control. A lightweight who, by virtue of his name and connections, will be a dangerously unequipped steward of the state as it tries to keep pace with the beginning of a new century.

But according to Joe's advocates, he's a tireless fighter for the disadvantaged, with sizzling political acumen. Sure, it took time to shake off the psychological demons of his turbulent youth. Sure, he's lost his cool a few times. And maybe he's no Rhodes Scholar. But Joe has matured, they say, into an effective politician who makes up in effort and dedication what he may lack in wonkhood.

There is plenty of truth to that view. Joe has indeed evolved more than he is given credit for. The real question is, is that enough? After all, no Kennedy has ever held -- or even run for -- state office in Massachusetts. Congress is one thing; as one of 435 representatives, Joe can bounce from issue to issue, pausing to fire off a boastful press release when he passes an amendment, or an indignant speech when the Republicans get extreme. The voters seem content to have a famous ambassador representing them on C-SPAN.

The State House is another story. Joe would serve six million people, not the 600,000 of his district (which includes Brighton, Chelsea, Roxbury, and Cambridge). He'd be responsible for the state budget, the Big Dig, the modernization of MassPort and Logan Airport, economic development and infrastructure, taxes, and plowing the roads. And don't forget a skeptical press constantly on his back, agitating, testing his temper. It's a mighty job.

And whether or not Joe's up to it, the conventional wisdom holds that the job is basically his if he wants it. Governor Bill Weld has term-limited himself out of running a third time (though, as Republican consultants point out, chaos theory is the only reliable predictor of Weld's behavior). That leaves an open seat for Joe or one of his three competitors. In his own party, there's state Attorney General Scott Harshbarger (see "Barging Ahead"), a straitlaced technocrat who hasn't the connections, the cash, or the name. The Republicans, state treasurer Joe Malone and Lieutenant Governor Paul Cellucci, face problems as well. Cellucci has been gluing himself together since Weld decided to ride out his last two years in office after his losing Senate bid, rather than handing off the job and giving Cellucci a running start on '98. Malone cuts a good political profile, and has faced a Kennedy before (in his 1988 kamikaze run against Ted). But the early odds don't favor the state treasurer against a rich congressman named Kennedy.

Part 2

Michael Crowley can be reached at mcrowley[a]phx.com.