PARTYING WITH DEAN FOR PRESIDENT

Radical Society, Oct-Dec 2003 by Berman, David

why the best party in town might be a political party

IT'S SATURDAY NIGHT IN NEW YORK CITY and one of Manhattan's biggest nightclubs, Avalon, has a line around the block to get in. The crowd is your standard club clientele: twenty- and thirty-something singles with the women wearing slinky skirts, low-cut tops, and black boots or strappy heels and the men in trousers of some variety, a collared button-up or tight-fitting T-shirt, and black shoes. The cover charge is $35 for general admission or $75 to go up to the second floor for a "prime view" and private bar; a prepaid $500 option provides a private area and access to an after party. At the entry to the club is a lanky doorman with the obligatory clipboard. he has a pierced lip and dreadlocks, and next to him stand two bouncers of sizable proportion. A shirtless club kid in leather pants stumbles to the front of the line and hollers at the doorman, "Hey, man, like what's going down tonight?" And the doorman, without a hint of sarcasm hollers back, "It's a fundraiser for Howard Dean, Democratic candidate for president-get in line and come on in!" The shirtless club kid pauses a second and considers the offer and the scene in front of him, scrunches his brow and asks, "This is a political thing! At Avalon? With these [gesturing at the line] girls?" Without flinching, the doorman, who exposes his undershirt reading "Howard Dean for President" tells the shirtless club kid, "Yeah, man, this is how Howard Dean is campaigning." The shirtless club kid stares blankly at the doorman either in disbelief or contemplating if he should go inside or both, and is about to say something when a passing skirt catches his eye. he drops his sentence and turns to follow the woman but not before he pauses, turns back toward the doorman, and asks again with the scrunched brow, "Who's the guy running for president?" The doorman announces with a raised arm, "Governor Howard Dean of Vermont!" And the shirtless club kid nods his head and announces back, "He's got my vote!"

And that was the point of this fundraiser. The shirtless club kid and the line of people going into Avalon were all part of one of Howard Dean's major target markets: voters (and donors) who are single, professional or in college, use the Internet more than the telephone, don't object to a night of drinking, and are disenchanted by politics. How Dean found this sector-or how the sector found Dean-is a combination of the divisive political times American politics has entered and the changing nature of association. Dean had been throwing a party for this young, socially liberal target market for the past year and though he has ended his campaign, speculation is already rampant as to whom and how this population will respond to the remaining candidates and influence decision 2004.

Dr. Howard Dean, former governor of Vermont and onetime practicing medical doctor, captured the attention of the progressive set with his rolled-up sleeves and acidic tongue that challenge everything about the Bush administration. Originally viewed as a long shot for the Democratic nomination (behind more established candidates like Representative Richard Gephardt of Missouri and Senator John Kerry of Massachusetts), Dean catapulted to front-runner status with a campaign fueled by support from members of Generation X, Generation Y, the MTV Generation, and the Internet Generation-a population usually thought of as apolitical. This unlikely demographic, though, participated in and gave money to Dean's campaign in unprecedented numbers and ways. Dean, like John F. Kennedy and George McGovern, engaged a generation dismissed as politically apathetic in an exciting grassroots campaign.

Dean's campaign mobilized people who had felt disconnected from the political process and wanted to support someone who is "not their parents' politician." Like Kennedy's and McGovern's campaigns, the Dean campaign bared resemblance to (and consciously cultivates the likeness of) a "movement." In the Dean "movement," candidate and supporters alike speak of big ideas and new social agendas. As with McGovern, Dean called for peace and higher morality for elected officials. The difference between the "movement" and other competing campaigns is a feeling that the candidate can produce meaningful change, a renaissance in government and the way of life, and do so by mobilizing the populace in a fashion that challenges the status quo.

The campaign as a movement connects a candidate to the citizen on a personal level. The candidate talks of "we" and "you" and "us" and supporters feel that a relationship, a bond, exists. Call it a partnership: the voter as a political participant. However, unlike Kennedy's and McGovern's campaigns, Dean's "movement" had become as much a call for political change as a means for new social connections. New York magazine described Dean's events as "de facto singles mixers for young activists on the make." This blend of activism and partying had made the Dean campaign trail a fusion of social consciousness and blind date. Never had the term "political party" been so apt. Dean's campaign mobilized its supporters politically as much as it did socially. As one attendee at a New York rally said, "I've got two phone numbers tonight and five new reasons to not vote for Bush." Is it a stretch to envision a generation saying "I met my spouse at a Dean rally" or "I remember when Dean made politics hip?"