When I first heard the news that Florida senator Bob Graham, a Democratic presidential aspirant, was planning to travel across New Hampshire doing " workdays, " I rolled my eyes. It’s hard to take these events, where candidates dress up as laborers and pretend to do an honest day’s labor, seriously. Just look at Mitt Romney’s campaign for governor, which he won despite his corny play-acting at being a Dunkin’ Donuts employee, Fenway Park hot-dog purveyor, and car mechanic. Boston Globe columnist Joan Vennochi took a shot at Romney for posing as a car mechanic in a memorable October 2002 piece: " Next time, wear jeans without a crease when you are pretending to check the oil. Regular folks don’t dry-clean their Levi’s. And while you’re at it, don’t look so surprised to find real oil in the oil pan. That’s where it’s supposed to be, my man. " Won’t New Hampshire residents — who were tortured by these ads just as we were by the seemingly endless spots run by Granite State politicians Jeanne Shaheen, John Sununu, and Craig Benson — scoff at Graham’s use of a similar campaign tactic?

Probably. But they shouldn’t. There is a profound difference between Romney’s approach to workdays — he abandoned the gimmick after it became obvious that the public was tuning it out — and Graham’s. On ABC’s This Week with George Stephanopoulos last Sunday, Graham explained that since 1974, when he first started the workdays, he’s done " 386 different jobs. " Initially there were " some questions raised about whether this was a gimmick, but I think over the years the people of Florida have seen it as a very important way to stay in touch not only with how people earn their living, but how they live their lives. "

Graham’s workdays actually pack significant substance, a fact evident from his 1978 book Workdays: Finding Florida on the Job (Banyan Books). Unlike Romney, who stayed in uniform just long enough for a photo op, Graham typically works a full day, an element that lends the book the flavor of Barbara Ehrenreich’s 2001 exposé Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America (Metropolitan Books). Graham’s book, a collection of personal essays and photos, depicts him fully engrossed in his various labors. The cover shows him clad in a denim jacket, tying up lumber as the sweat drips from his brow. In one chapter, " Orlando Bellhop’s Long Haul with ERA Women, Old Soldiers, " Graham describes encountering his opponent in the 1978 governor’s race, then–Florida attorney general Bob Shevin. " At 10:03 a lady whom I vaguely remembered came to the bell station, pointed out a large red bag, and asked me to deliver it, " Graham writes, recounting that he took the bag to a room the woman identified as Shevin’s suite. " I told her I did not want to embarrass anyone and suggested that I leave the bag outside the room.... She insisted that I carry it inside and opened the door to Myrna Shevin, the wife of the attorney general. " Graham explained to Shevin’s wife why he was there, and she directed him to the area of the suite where the candidate was staying. " As I was putting down the bag, a female voice came from one of the rooms asking us to be quiet because ‘The General is still sleeping!’ I left on tiptoe. There was no tip. "

I can’t say whether modern voters will embrace Graham’s tactic any more than they did Romney’s. Voters nationally are far more cynical than they were even in the 1970s. Still, Graham’s efforts seem a little more sincere than Romney’s. The test, I suppose, will come when Graham attempts to deliver a bag to Massachusetts senator John Kerry or Connecticut senator Joseph Lieberman.