ALBUQUERQUE — There was a little yelling, some throwing stuff at the TV and a lot of silent eye-rolling, but no changed minds among a group of mostly 30-something Obama supporters gathered to watch the second presidential debate Tuesday evening. The biggest cheers of the night came when the host of the party paused the debate (being recorded on DVR) and asked “Should we take a break for dinner?” And when it was over, most said that the event only served to increase their dislike of the Republican candidate.
The group of a dozen or so friends, family and neighbors included one Bernalillo County firefighter, one City Hall employee, an attorney, a waitress, a construction supervisor, a makeup artist, a window treatment installer, a museum exhibit fabricator and a welder. (Also in attendance was a two-year-old whose latest favorite phrase, “Uh-oh!” provided sporadic comic relief.) Although their support in the primary had been divided between Obama and Sen. Hillary Clinton, all said they planned to vote for Obama.
There was beef stew waiting in the kitchen as partygoers filled their glasses with red wine and cracked open cans of beer, then settled down around the TV to watch McCain and Obama try to knock each other out of this demolition derby.
But there were no spectacular crashes or near-death experiences in Nashville last night, only subtle posturing and vigorous emphasis of minor policy nuances. As Matt Drudge described it with his post-debate headline: “BORING.”
At this downtown house party the TV was tuned to MSNBC and as Keith Olberman introduced the debate there were murmurs of approval for the liberal commentator.
The first question, about the financial crisis, came from an audience member and was directed to Obama; he immediately began tying the financial crisis to the “failed economic policies of the last eight years, strongly promoted by President Bush and supported by Sen. McCain…”
But when McCain’s turn came he dropped a bomb that stunned the debate watchers. As he announced a proposal to have the government buy up the bad mortgages of homeowners who now find their property at a much lower value, one watcher blurted out “F*&^ that!” Eyes turned in her direction; a small child was earmuffed. “He wants to buy the crappiest mortgages and stick us with the bill!” Scowls spread around the room. Nobody in the room seemed to know that McCain’s proposal was actually part of the bailout bill passed last week.
(Apparently it was a common reaction. Even the Wall Street Journal mentioned it in a post-debate blog post. “After McCain suspended his campaign two weeks ago and rushed back to Washington to knock some heads together to get a rescue plan approved, he sheepishly admitted that he hadn’t actually read the three-page Paulson plan all the way through. And even though he voted for it, it sounds like he still hasn’t read it.”)
When McCain answered an audience member’s question about the economic crisis by again referring to himself as a reformer, one watcher shouted at the TV: “Oh yeah! A reformer? Like you were with the Keating Five!”
Then, after some bickering about the budget, a lame joke about “nailing Jell-O to the wall,” and a Herbert Hoover reference that went over everybody’s head, McCain hit his second lowest point with this already unsympathetic group. In answering a question about the credit crisis, he first claimed to be an expert in eliminating programs that don’t work — noting defense programs in particular — then proposed a spending freeze that would apply to everything but, you guessed it, defense and veterans affairs. Suddenly eyes that had been drooping popped back open. “Did he just say he wants to cut defense spending, or that he wanted to freeze everything but defense?” one confused viewer asked. “Both!” was the crowd response. There was much shaking of heads and rolling of eyes.
McCain’s lowest point with this unfriendly crowd came during his response to one of moderator Tom Brokaw’s questions about energy. Referring to “an energy bill on the floor of the Senate loaded down with goodies, billions for the oil companies,” McCain asked “You know who voted for it?” Jabbing a thumb at Obama he said derisively, “That one.” There was a collective sucking-in of air. Someone threw a pen at the screen, giving up on a game of Presidential Debate Bingo. (The winning phrase? “My friends.”)
After it was all over, the general consensus was that the Town Hall format was a bust. When they ask questions, “Real people can barely spit it out,” one beer drinker complained.
In the middle of the debate, audience member Lindsey Trella asked: “Senator [Obama], selling health care coverage in America as a marketable commodity has become a very profitable industry. Do you believe health care should be treated as a commodity?” But if the candidates were just going to stick to their talking points, one partygoer suggested, why not just ask, “Healthcare, dude?”
McCain looked old (”Because he is old!”) and told “old grandpa jokes.” These Democrats described him as condescending and petulant. They definitely thought he lost the debate and cheered loudly when a post-debate poll showed Obama as the winner.
Still Obama didn’t necessarily wow these watchers with his performance tonight. They liked it that he seemed to give answers to the questions and didn’t call everyone “my friend.” One watcher said he thought it was obvious that Obama was being “political,” adding wistfully, “Well, I guess you gotta play the game.”





