TAMPA — The town’s building one pol up, tearing another down. While crowds cheered Romney, South Carolina’s former Gov. Mark Sanford — minus the longtime wife he divorced, minus the Argentinian mistress he’s marrying, minus the bowing serfs he ruled — shuffled along alone. “A bum,” opined one watcher.
NY’s delegation had familiar faces. And unfamiliar legs. Like those sticking out of Alfonse D’Amato. “My wife bought these white shorts,” he said. He was also inside a NY Giants T-shirt. “Know what’s different about this convention?” asked ex-Gov. George Pataki in blue suit and Hermes tie? “D’Amato’s outfit.”
D’Amato: “At my age, I’m entitled.” Me: “You’re 70, right?” Pataki: “You actually wrote about attending his 75th birthday recently.” Me: “Listen, I just write the stuff, I don’t memorize it.”
Rep. Peter King: “Four years ago Obama was saving the world, and Republicans felt depressed. Now we feel energy and drive.” He then returned to eating his eggs. He avoided the NYC-style bagels, which were made in Clearwater Beach.
Chinatown’s Charles Wang: “I think my people will go our way.” . . . Fox-TV’s political pro Frank Luntz in red, white and blue sneakers: “Obama’s economy is so bad that Bill and Hillary even travel together.”
Gov. Fortuno: “To help Puerto Rico, I took a 20 percent salary cut, but my wife didn’t like it.” . . . Majority Leader Dean Skelos said nothing. Shook my hand . . . CBS’s Marcia Kramer: “I’ve reported on these conventions since the dinosaur’s day.” . . . And lurking about, bad boy Roger Stone. Always set to manufacture some misery.
Asked when his political bent began, NY GOP Chairman Ed Cox told me: “1963. I was a high school senior when Nixon moved to New York. I saw his daughter and my interest began immediately. I went to the ’68 Convention with Tricia. We married in ’71, and that’s when I got involved in politics.”
Out front picket signs said “Ron Paul.” Almost everyone actually favored Ron Paul because he organized the local bar to stay open until 3 a.m.
The mosh pit where everyone powers up and chows down is the 10,000-square-foot CNN Grill. With 20 cooks, 60 servers and plasma in the form of burgers, shakes, fish, fries, salads, wine and beer, it daily feeds 1,000 people — 5 p.m. to 1 a.m. — like Tim Daly, Jon Voight seen wandering about, the five Romney boys who, liberal in terms of dining, vacuumed up mac ’n’ cheese.
It’s the creation of the Civic Entertainment Group’s David Cohn, Stuart Ruderfer, David Nurnberg, who saw the raw garage space a year ago and, starting July, created a mahogany bar, plasma TVs and civilization.
Inside, some unnamed human took photos of us all, made caricatures then stuck them on a wall. For some reason, I’m hanging under Steve Baldwin, and his caricature doesn’t look too happy about it.
At one table sat Angus T. Jones from “Two and a Half Men.” College-bound, 18, yet still considered the highest paid kid actor in history, he said: “I’m off this week so I came with the Creative Coalition because I’m put to use. I talk to voters and say how beneficial the arts are. Not sure my future is politics, but it’s interesting and I’m learning.”
Somehow looking unfamiliar, he said: “That’s because my hair is now in a short buzz cut, and I’m wearing glasses. I can’t see. I’m almost legally blind. I’ve gotten used to not wearing them on the show because I can determine what I need to and we work it all out in rehearsal.”
Most conversations centered on Chris Christie, who actually managed to mention Mitt Romney in his Tuesday speech. They’re calling Christie “America’s governor.” Also saying, “Enough already with all that fat . . . [and] you should see him without his jacket [and] how can he govern a country when he can’t even control himself?”
For excitement the NY pols flocked to Steinbrenner Field here. Watching ex-Yankee Bucky Dent play baseball is the largest thrill you can get here outside of tweezing your chin.
The town’s laid-back. Big with retirees. A driver said his water bill’s $7 a month. Car registration fee, $70. Gas — $3.69 a gallon. The glossiest building? Scientology headquarters — within purifying distance of member John Travolta, who lives in Ocala.
Although the younguns are known to party, the place zips up at 9 p.m. One resident explained the lifestyle as: “Please. Here everyone has one friend they visit, and that’s that.”
But there’s Taco Bell. Hiltons and Sheratons. Tattoo parlors, including one advertising “Henna tattoos. Lasts up to three weeks.” And it’s the site of the Clearwater Marine Aquarium, home of dolphin Winter, who suffered an amputation and was fitted for a prosthetic fin. And it’s where the government gives Realtors money to put up buildings.
And in Tampa everyone is friendly, loving and helpful. Such an unfamiliar concept that Tampons should be encouraged to come to our town one weekend just to learn to reply, “Yo, bro, you tawkin’ t’me?”