Sleepy race for rep may well perk up

13 August 2004

Kristine Glynn and Marty Walz have a hard time finding an issue on which they disagree, making for a sleepy race for state rep. Things change after the Sept. 14 Democratic primary, however, when one of them will face Republican Richard Babson. The openly gay, socially liberal Babson isn't cut from the same ideological cloth as Gov. Mitt Romney. But at least he'll be making good on Romney's promise that Republicans will no longer passively cede legislative seats to Democrats.

The seat in question is the reliably progressive Eighth Suffolk. (When the national media talks about "liberal Massachusetts," this is the place they mean.) Almost evenly divided between portions of Cambridge and some of Boston's wealthiest neighborhoods, the Eighth has a storied history. Barney Frank, now a U.S. congressman, represented it from 1973 to 1980. In eight years as its rep, Mark Roosevelt spearheaded passage of the Education Reform Act and ended up the 1994 Democratic nominee for governor. He was followed by Paul Demakis, who earned a reputation as nemesis to House Speaker Thomas Finneran.

Demakis is leaving, the seat is open and, this being Boston, a throng of candidates now vies for the job.

Actually, no. In fact, just two secured enough signatures for the Democratic primary. Both are female: Glynn, 34, is from Beacon Hill; Walz, 43, lives in Back Bay. There's a ho-hum quality to the whole affair. National politics have captured the attention and pocketbooks of the politically active. The Olympics have the attention of everyone else. By the time Labor Day has passed, there will be seven days before the election - not much time to woo inattentive voters.

If, indeed, there are any voters to woo. With only one other race on the ballot in Boston and none in Cambridge, turnout will be low. Bostonians like to brag politics is in their blood; if so, they all have anemia.

Both of the Democrats point to records of accomplishment. Walz is the community activist - president of the neighborhood association, chair of the local Democratic Committee and member of groups galore. Glynn's strength lies in her knowledge of politics and Beacon Hill. She's managed several local campaigns, was a former aide to state Sen. Dianne Wilkerson and is now a lobbyist. Walz says she knows what the people want; Glynn says she knows how to get it done. Both figure on winning the primary through old-fashioned personal contact: door knocking, phone calls and neighborhood meet-and- greets.

And what is it they tell people? The differences between them, the two admit, are few. Pro-gay, pro-choice and anti-death penalty, they both say they will carry on Demakis' tradition of voting against Finneran, although they talk gamely about maintaining a good working relationship nonetheless.

They are so alike, in fact, that after much pondering, the only difference either could find was over a modest proposal sponsored by Demakis, one that requires tenants to pay for their own water costs. It's a long overdue reform - every other state but Massachusetts already has it in place - but Glynn rips into it, saying it hurts tenants. Although Walz is supposed to be the candidate with less knowledge of the internal workings of the House, her position is more nuanced and understanding of the give-and-take of the legislative process: The law was a realpolitik compromise that stymied a more stringent measure Walz thinks would have hurt tenants even more.

Absent issues, the distinctions become less tangible. Walz says the race is about "maturity, record and leadership ability" and thinks she has the edge. So too does Glynn. The campaign as a result has become increasingly personal. Glynn accuses Walz of being behind a recent letter in the Cambridge Chronicle that questioned her honesty.

"I don't think that attacking someone's character makes for a good race," she says. "I think we're both good people."

Walz denies responsibility for the letter but when asked if she shares Glynn's sentiments about them both being good people, she goes silent, ultimately saying, "I don't think she's the most qualified candidate."

'Nuff said - and it's little surprise. When the issues separating candidates are few, personalities drive the race.

After the primary, however, voters accustomed to token GOP opposition will have a real choice. Babson is a member of the family that founded Babson College. If he's serious about the race, he's certainly got the money to spend and he'll use it to paint his opponent as an "old-school, partisan tax-and-spender." Unlike Glynn or Walz, for example, Babson backs Romney's proposed cut of the income tax. Yet on many of the litmus test issues that define what it means to be progressive - gay rights, abortion, even voting for Finneran - Babson will stand foursquare with the Democratic nominee.

Glynn and Walz aren't especially worried, thinking their local roots will keep the seat Democratic. Perhaps. Yet Romney won in Boston in 2002, and lost by just a small margin in Cambridge. The right Republican could well have appeal.