On Tuesday, a nearly 6-foot-tall chicken delivered the following letter to the Solana Beach office of Rep. Brian Bilbray, the Republican congressman running for re-election:
“Your commitment to hold at least five debates before the general election has, unfortunately, turned out to be nothing more than an empty promise. As many as five local, nonpartisan organizations have offered to hold debates. You continue to dodge these invitations. Rather than offer the residents of the 50th Congressional District what they have been asking for and deserve, you have consistently stated that you will only take part in television and radio debates because they will allow you to participate from your home in Washington, D.C. It is time for you to return to San Diego and debate me in front of voters. I look forward to your prompt response.”
This cheeky challenge, signed by Nick Leibham, Democratic congressional candidate, was another photogenic stunt designed to draw attention to a race that local Democrats believe – maybe hope is a better word – will ride the Obama wave to a historic victory in November.
Two weeks ago, the 30-something Leibham generated TV buzz by rolling back the price of gas to $1.27 a gallon, the price in 1996 when Bilbray, according to the insurgent campaign, received his first campaign contribution from “Big Oil.” At three stations scattered around the 50th, Leibham treated the first 50 lucky drivers to 10 gallons of the cut-rate fuel.
Such are the slapstick tactics of a challenger trying to generate news coverage – My opponent is soooo chicken! – in the hot-dog days of summer.
Back in May, before the congressional primaries, I asked Bilbray if he planned to debate the Democratic candidate. Sure, he replied, but he quickly added the caveat that his Herculean (and bipartisan) legislative labors in Washington transcended the relatively trivial demands of yet another campaign.
“You have to deliver,” he told me. “You have to concentrate on getting the job done rather than campaigning. Everyone in Washington always seems to be long on campaigning, short on substance.”
Bilbray, it was clear, sees himself as a politician heavy on substance, light on campaigning.
At the time, I thought Bilbray was telegraphing that he'd likely duck debates with young Leibham or the professorial Libertarian candidate, Wayne Dunlap.
As it turns out, Bilbray had a much more subtle strategy in mind. He has indeed committed to debates, but only if they're held in TV or radio studios.
So what's the congressman's angle?
As a rule, media debates lend themselves to short, brisk talking points, a format that should favor a smooth political pro like Bilbray. What's more, Bilbray can decide if he wants to perform in the same studio with Leibham or other candidates. If he wants, Bilbray can stay in Washington and materialize like the Great and Powerful Oz on the screen or on the airwaves, thus conveying the message that he is wedging the relatively unimportant campaign appearance into his hectic Washington schedule.
The beauty of this tactic is that it underscores Bilbray's core message – I'm busy making bipartisan laws on behalf of North County and America – while reminding voters that his challengers are mere wannabes who don't have any business in the national seat of power.
In addition, Bilbray can say he's not committing to out-of-studio debates because he is, well, so darn considerate.
As Jennifer Jacobs, Bilbray's campaign consultant, explained Tuesday, Bilbray does not want to risk being a no-show at regular debates – the drawn-out affairs sponsored by the League of Women Voters, for example – because he can never predict when he'll be needed in Washington.
You just never know when you'll be ordered to clean up the House, even in the normally dead weeks leading up to a presidential election.
It is an elegant finesse.
This sort of grandiose stroke is one of the perks of incumbency, as is the House franking privilege allowing candidates to send for free mailers to constituents trumpeting a congressman's nation-changing accomplishments.
Despite his inherent advantage, Bilbray needs to be careful, it seems to me, with his fondness for the nation's capital.
In a traditionally safe GOP district trending purple, the race is potentially close enough that Bilbray can't afford to debunk all – or most of – the debates with remote appearances from Washington. That would provide his opponents with a rich attack point.
To some of his constituents, Bilbray's longtime association with the Washington area – as a veteran congressman, lobbyist and resident – is a political negative, not a positive.
On a lovely afternoon last Sunday, 20 or so Democratic volunteers assembled in a downtown La Jolla office building to make cold cell-phone calls for Obama. Midway through their calls, the volunteers segued into pitches on behalf of Leibham. One of the major talking points was Bilbray's ties to the old political culture of Washington.
If Leibham does pull off an upset, it will be because the energized Democratic ground game moved the 50th's independent and Republican Obama voters to also vote for the young “change” candidate down the ticket.
On Tuesday, as the chicken mascot waved to passers-by – and Leibham, the preppy lawyer who lives in Rancho Santa Fe, handed out chicken sandwiches to a flock of his supporters – Bilbray was spotted striding purposefully into his office.
As you'd expect, the congressman appeared much too busy to stop and pose for pictures.
Logan Jenkins: (760) 737-7555; logan.jenkins@uniontrib.com.
