ONE
of the surest ways to get the phones ringing on any
Massachusetts talk-radio show is to ask people to call
in and tell their John Kerry stories. The phone lines
are soon filled, and most of the stories have a common
theme: our junior senator pulling rank on one of his
constituents, breaking in line, demanding to pay less
(or nothing) or ducking out before the bill arrives.
The tales often have one other common
thread. Most end with Sen. Kerry inquiring of the lesser
mortal: "Do you know who I am?"
And now he's running for president as
a populist. His first wife came from a
Philadelphia Main Line family worth $300 million. His
second wife is a pickle-and-ketchup heiress.
Kerry lives in a mansion on Beacon
Hill on which he has borrowed $6 million to finance his
campaign. A fire hydrant that prevented him and his wife
from parking their SUV in front of their tony digs was
removed by the city of Boston at his behest.
The Kerrys ski at a spa the widow
Heinz owns in Aspen, and they summer on Nantucket in a
sprawling seaside "cottage" on Hurlbert Avenue, which is
so well-appointed that at a recent fund-raiser, they
imported porta-toilets onto the front lawn so the donors
wouldn't use the inside bathrooms. (They later claimed
the decision was made on septic, not social,
considerations).
It's a wonderful life these days for
John Kerry. He sails Nantucket Sound in "the Scaramouche,"
a 42-foot Hinckley powerboat. Martha Stewart has a
similar boat; the no-frills model reportedly starts at
$695,000. Sen. Kerry bought it new, for cash.
Every Tuesday night, the local
politicians here that Kerry elbowed out of his way on
his march to the top watch, fascinated, as he claims
victory in more primaries and denounces the special
interests, the "millionaires" and "the overprivileged."
"His initials are JFK," longtime state
Senate President William M. Bulger used to muse on St.
Patrick's Day, "Just for Kerry. He's only Irish every
sixth year." And now it turns out that he's not Irish at
all.
But in the parochial world of Bay
State politics, he was never really seen as Irish, even
when he was claiming to be (although now, of course, he
says that any references to his alleged Hibernian
heritage were mistakenly put into the Congressional
Record by an aide who apparently didn't know that on his
paternal side he is, in fact, part-Jewish).
Kerry is, in fact, a Brahmin - his
mother was a Forbes, from one of Massachusetts' oldest
WASP families. The ancestor who wed Ralph Waldo
Emerson's daughter was marrying down.
At the risk of engaging in ethnic
stereotyping, Yankees have a reputation for, shall we
say, frugality. And Kerry tosses around quarters like
they were manhole covers. In 1993, for instance, living
on a senator's salary of about $100,000, he managed to
give a total of $135 to charity.
Yet that same year, he was somehow
able to scrape together $8,600 for a brand-new, imported
Italian motorcycle, a Ducati Paso 907 IE. He kept it for
years, until he decided to run for president, at which
time he traded it in for a Harley-Davidson like the one
he rode onto "The Tonight Show" set a couple of months
ago as Jay Leno applauded his fellow Bay Stater.
Of course, in 1993 he was between his
first and second heiresses - a time he now calls "the
wandering years," although an equally apt description
might be "the freeloading years."
For some of the time, he was, for all
practical purposes, homeless. His friends allowed him
into a real-estate deal in which he flipped a condo for
quick resale, netting a $21,000 profit on a cash
investment of exactly nothing. For months he rode around
in a new car supplied by a shady local Buick dealer.
When the dealer's ties to a congressman who was later
indicted for racketeering were exposed, Kerry quickly
explained that the non-payment was a mere oversight, and
wrote out a check.
In the Senate, his record of his
constituent services has been lackluster, and most of
his colleagues, despite their public support, are
hard-pressed to list an accomplishment. Just last fall,
a Boston TV reporter ambushed three congressmen with the
question, name something John Kerry has accomplished in
Congress. After a few nervous giggles, two could think
of nothing, and a third mentioned a baseball field, and
then misidentified Kerry as "Sen. Kennedy."
Many of his constituents see him in
person only when he is cutting them in line - at an
airport, a clam shack or the Registry of Motor Vehicles.
One talk-show caller a few weeks back recalled standing
behind a police barricade in 2002 as the Rolling Stones
played the Orpheum Theater, a short limousine ride from
Kerry's Louisburg Square mansion.
The caller, Jay, said he began
heckling Kerry and his wife as they attempted to enter
the theater. Finally, he said, the senator turned to him
and asked him the eternal question.
"Do you know who I am?"
"Yeah," said Jay. "You're a
gold-digger."
John Kerry. First he looks at the
purse.
Howie Carr, a Boston Herald
columnist and syndicated talk-radio host, has been
covering John Kerry for 25 years.