The big knock on Chris Romer is that too many people don’t seem to actually like him. From what I understand, this is not a good thing for a politician. Often the unlikability talk is just thatthe kind of thing people say during campaigns — but then along came election night, and the talk immediately grew a lot louder.
You remember what happened. Despite his big money advantage and bigger name recognition advantage, Romer came home with a not very likable 28.5 percent of the vote.
If you ask the pros why, they’ll tell you that Romer comes off to many voters as arrogant or aloof or, well, did I mention arrogant?
Romer apparently took this critique so much to heart that he opened the second round of his campaign by embracing his inner Rahm Emanuel and knocking Michael Hancock for being, yes, too likable.
Here’s the Romer pitch: Hancock wants so badly to be liked that he won’t make the tough decisions. The counter-narrative is that Romer, not so likeable, certainly isn’t afraid to offend anyone because look how many people he’s offended so far.
Let’s just say that’s not necessarily the way to get elected. The guy who usually wins elections is the one you want to have a beer with — ask John Hickenlooper — not the one whose face you want to throw the beer in. (I stole this line from myself. I used it referring to Bob Schaffer in his race against Mark Udall, and you know how that one turned out.)
But now, suddenly, things have changed. On Monday morning, James Mejia announced that he was endorsing Romer. He wasn’t just endorsing him. He was going all in. Their campaign staffs are merging. Mejia is going to be the co-chair of the campaign, which someone already called the Romejia campaign.
This was not the way to bet. In fact, Mejia wasn’t betting that way himself. Mejia got 26 percent of the vote to finish a very close third in a race in which there were only two finalists. His plan was to not endorse anyone and to ride off into the next available sunset, and wait for the winner to maybe offer him a job.
But he decided to meet with both candidates. Mejia said he was “surprised” by both meetings, meaning he was surprised in a good way in only one of them.
According to Mejia, Romer was more amenable to embracing Mejia’s campaign proposals. But there was something more.
Here’s what Mejia said surprised him about Romer: “His persona in the confines of an office is very different than what you see in public.”
Here’s how to translate that: Close up, he’s not that bad a guy.
As politics goes, this was a pretty candid statement. When asked why people might view Romer that way, Mejia said, “He has to do a better job of explaining his views to Denver voters.”
I asked Mejia if, then, he saw himself bringing a more human face to the campaign.
“Yes,” he said. “Definitely.”
Romer, meanwhile, was candid enough to say he’d welcome Mejia in a Romer administration cabinet. Is there room for an associate mayor?
Still, the temptation is to overstate the meaning of this. There’s a long history of major endorsements that have come to nothing. Obviously Mejia has some sway in the Latino community, but if he had that much sway, he’d be in the runoff.
By Monday afternoon, the spotlight was back on the remaining candidates. Hancock and Romer were engaged in the latest mayoral forum, in which Hancock quickly set out to show that he’s not that nice a guy.
For instance, when Romer questioned whether Hancock was pro-choice, Hancock, saying he was pro-choice, said that was just the kind of charge you’d expect to hear from a Wall Street banker. (By the way, Hancock’s campaign told me he believed in evolution, hoping to clear up a social issue raised in an earlier debate.)
The forum highlight — as relayed by Post reporter Jeremy P. Meyer — turned out to be about potential instruments of mayoral destruction.
Hancock said that Romer wanted to make changes in Denver with a sledgehammer, whereas Hancock preferred a scalpel.
Romer, citing his business experience, said he wouldn’t bring a sledgehammer, but a calculator.
Hancock, citing his view of Romer’s business experience, countered that you know what kind of havoc an investment banker can wreak with a calculator.
What I’m hearing from the calculator is that, at this point, no one is counting anyone out.
E-mail Mike Littwin at mlittwin@denverpost.com.
