By Jonathan Miller, on Mon May 2, 2011 at 12:00 PM ET
Today, we introduce our newest contributing recovering politician, Andrew Romanoff, through the magic of video Skype.
Andrew served as Speaker of the House for the Colorado state House of Representatives until he was term-limited in 2010. That year, he bucked the state and national Democratic establishment by challenging his party’s U.S. Senator, Michael Bennet, who had been appointed to that office by the Democratic governor and supported by President Obama. Despite this challenge — and with an assist from President Clinton who endorsed him — Andrew almost pulled the upset of the election cycle.
Now a Senior Advisor for International Development Enterprises, Andrew shares with The RP his thoughts about his race, term limits, and global conflict and development:
By Jonathan Miller, on Mon May 2, 2011 at 9:30 AM ET
I wrote earlier that today is a today of celebration.
But perhaps it is even more a day of remembrance. Let us never forget the thousands of Americans — of nearly ever race, creed and ethnicity — who perished on 9/11 because of Osama bin Laden’s conspiracy of mass murder.
Did you lose a friend or loved one? Did someone you love narrowly escape death?
Please use the comments section below to share your stories:
UPDATE:
A reader, Daniel Solzman, reminded me that today is the Jewish holiday, Yom Hashoah, the Day of Remembrance, the day on which we solemnly remember the 6 million Jews and millions of others who perished during the Holocaust.
And then my daughter, Emily, reminded me that yesterday was the 66th anniversary of the day on which the world learned that Hitler had died. (May 1, 1945.)
As my wife, Lisa, constantly preaches, there are no coincidences.
The one question that recovering politicians always get is “do you miss it?”
Many elected officials have politics in their blood, and they go through a sort of withdrawal when they’re not in office.
Fortunately for my peace of mind, I don’t have it that bad, and I can honestly say that I don’t miss it.
My business partner in my public affairs firm, Julie Raque Adams, ran for state representative last year and won. I love hearing her tales of all the hijinks in Frankfort, but that’s enough for me for now.
I wouldn’t change a thing about the six years I served on Louisville’s Metro Council. I’m very proud that I had a hand in the fabulous KFC Yum! Center, the smoking ban, and the Fairness Ordinance. I am also grateful that I had the opportunity to advocate for an expansion of our library system.
But I am so happy in the private sector that it’s hard to imagine jumping back in. So count me in the ranks of a very content recovered politician.
Smoking Ban
Senate President and gubernatorial candidate David Williams deserves kudos for coming out in favor of a statewide smoking ban. That’s not an easy position for a candidate to take in a Republican primary, and I really appreciate it.
When I served on the Metro Council, we finally passed a comprehensive smoking ban in Louisville. One year, I served as the Chair of the committee studying the smoking ban, so I had the opportunity to meet with many bar and restaurant owners who were concerned about the economic impact of a ban.
One local restaurateur I met with told me at a high volume that his business would be doomed if we passed a smoking ban.
He got so hot with me at one point that he said, “If you were a man, I’d punch you in the face!”
I said, “Well, it’s a good thing I’m a girl!”
By the way, his restaurant business has expanded in the years since the smoking ban passed. Good for him.
CPAC
I am so glad that Senators Mitch McConnell and Rand Paul ignored the silly boycott of the Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC) in Washington in February. Several conservative groups skipped the conference because a gay Republican group, GOProud, was invited to co-sponsor the event. GOProud was co-founded by my friend and former Louisvillian, Jimmy LaSalvia.
The groups that protested GOProud’s inclusion need to remember that politics is a game of addition, not subtraction.
Julie Hits Frankfort
When Senator Williams filed his papers to run for Governor, a reporter at the press conference got a good chuckle from a freshman State Representative. Right before the press conference began, the new legislator blurted out, “Oh my gosh, my dress is on backwards!” Now, in her defense, the front and the back looked exactly alike.
Of course, it was Rep. Julie Raque Adams, the only woman I know who would say that out loud instead of just thinking it.
Thanks to Courier-Journal reporter Joe Gerth for that scoop!!
By Mark Nickolas, on Thu Apr 28, 2011 at 8:30 AM ET
Last fall, at age 44, after 15 years in Democratic politics — or writing about it as an advocate and observer — I decided to challenge myself one more time and go after the thing that has interested me for quite a while: taking my experience and applying it to one of the most powerful mediums for affecting change: political documentary filmmaking.
I had come to believe that the documentary presents the greatest potential of informing the masses about the happenings in our society, providing itself as an important catalyst for political and social change. Think no further than Fahrenheit 9/11 or An Inconvenient Truthor even Super Size Meto understand how documentaries are able to circumvent the media or political filters and speak directly to the public about the issues of our time. They usually don’t force change quickly, but instead help to generate the critical mass necessary to alter perceptions and raise awareness, allowing us to re-prioritize our concerns as a society, rather than relying on the traditional media or, God-forbid, government officials to lead the way (are they still looking for those WMDs in Iraq that they both promised us?).
This time, I resisted the impulse to simply jump into the deep end of the pool and learn the craft of filmmaking on my own. If I were 10 years younger, who knows? But having recently moved back to New York City, I decided to do the thing that many of us 40-somethings frequently seem to long for – rather than just dream about – and that was going back to school. In my case, film school.
In brighter days...
After taking a close look at some of the excellent film programs in New York City, I decided to go against the wisdom of pretty much everyone whose advice I sought, and applied to only one school. If I didn’t get in, I was fine with those consequences. I’ve done well in politics, and had just left a tumultuous stint working for Governor David Paterson as we tried, unsuccessfully, to keep the job that Eliot Spitzer suddenly handed him a few years earlier. I knew I would be okay if school didn’t pan out. Either way, I would have chased a dream and would no longer torture myself over whether or not to pursue it.
Ultimately, I applied to master’s program in Media Studies and Film at The New School. Being a UC Berkeley graduate, and a strong Democrat, I suspected I’d fit in quite well with the more renegade and avant-garde environment of The New School (after all, the school began a century ago largely from a group of breakaway scholars from Columbia University who refused to sign their government loyalty oaths). Beside, while NYU is renowned for its film school, it is geared toward traditional fiction films. If you want to go the documentary route, The New School makes much more for sense. So, I applied in October, got accepted in November, and began school barely a month later.
During orientation, I learned I was the oldest of my incoming class of about 70 students. That discovery came just as I pulled out a notebook and pen to take notes, rather than typing directly into a shiny MacBook Pro, as did a majority of my new classmates (note: I used a typewriter the last time I was in school in the late 1980s). It was a new world and, at first, awkward. Terrifying, actually. It’s funny how you don’t feel old working on a political campaign when in your forties, but feel ancient when you’re a new grad school student. Like, dinosaur-ancient.
Thankfully, that feeling largely subsides after a few weeks as you realize just how great of an advantage and head start you have on your classmates when it comes breath of experience, perspective and focus, all of which translates into your coursework and relationship with professors, one way or another. While most grad students are, understandably, still figuring out what they want to do after they’re done with school, an older student has a laser-like approach to figuring out the lay of the land, the right classes to take and professors to avoid, how to take advantage of all the networking opportunities during visits from filmmakers and distributors and producers, and, most importantly, a plan. As a result, the lectures and readings are remarkably interesting and you’re enjoying it too much to even contemplate meaningful procrastination. On top of that, it turns out that professors love older students because we have a purpose, are engaged by what they’re teaching, and we’ve been around-the-block long enough to intuitively know what matters and what doesn’t when processing large amounts of new information.
Read the rest of… Mark Nickolas: From the Political Trenches to Film School
By Stephanie Doctrow, RP Staff, on Wed Apr 27, 2011 at 10:00 AM ET
Iraq recovers from its war-torn past… by becoming a tourist destination? [GQ]
You think you’re paying a lot for gas? At least you don’t live in Chicago (sorry, Windy City residents!). [Huffington Post]
Over the past 33 years, Dick Hoyt has pushed, pulled and carried his disabled son, Rick, through more than 1,000 road races and triathlons, including 28 Boston Marathons. Now, the man who gave million of Americans hope for the future is finally letting go. [Sports Illustrated]
Brian Williams revives his career while network newscasts have worse ratings than ever by getting in touch with his inner comedian. [New York Magazine]
Give yourself an energy boost for the last part of your day by enjoying two minutes of relaxation. Click here for the soothing sounds of the ocean.
By Loranne Ausley, on Wed Apr 27, 2011 at 8:30 AM ET
My name is Loranne Ausley and I am a recovering politician. At least that’s what they tell me… I am not sure I have actually recovered yet, but you can decide.
Let me start out by saying that I never have liked to be called a “politician.” I have always preferred the term “public servant.” Whatever you want to call it the truth is that I come by it honestly. As a 6th generation Floridian, I was at least the 4th generation to serve our state in some capacity. After 8 years in the Florida House of Representatives, term limits sent me on my way, but I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel quite yet. Even after a tough statewide campaign in 2010, I’m still not sure I am ready to throw it in. In all honesty, I am truly struggling with how to “create meaning in my post political life.” I am hoping that this exercise will help.
Dog Island, Florida
So I started out by reading Tom Allen’s post about his “Blissful Recovery” and found myself thinking… that should be me. Consider the following: I am writing this from one of the most beautiful places in the world, Dog Island Florida where I am celebrating 11 years of marriage to a wonderful, smart and supportive husband who I love very much. We have a happy healthy 8 year old son who is an all around great kid and amazing superstar drummer even though he was never expected to make it out of the hospital after his premature birth at 22 weeks weighing just over a pound. I had the privilege of serving 8 great years in the legislature, took a gamble and ran statewide. Anyone watching will tell you it was a smart, scrappy campaign, but it was 2010…I was a Democrat… in Florida. We lost, but ran a good campaign, maintained civility in the process, raised over $ 2 million and got almost 2 million votes… no regrets.
Anyone who is looking at my life from outside would say that my life is blissful, or that I am pretty ungrateful if I claim otherwise. By all accounts, I am living the life… I am a “stay-at-home mom” which means I finally have time to do all those things I have put off.
Here I sit on a remote barrier island on a gorgeous day surrounded by the people that I love… WHY AM I NOT BLISSFUL?!?
For starters, it is past the halfway point of the legislative session and I am watching from afar as all of the things I care about are dismantled. I run into public employees and police officers at the grocery store who are terrified about changes in their pensions. I run into children’s advocates at church who are dismayed about savage cuts to children’s services, and every day at my son’s elementary school I am stopped in the halls by a teacher or a parent with grave concerns about what is really happening and how it is going to affect our kids.
I found some solace in Lisa Borders’ post and tried to take to heart her realization that we don’t have to be players on the field to impact the outcomes. As much as we laugh about the lack of normalcy amongst “our types” and our addiction to crowds and the sound of our own voices and the applause that follows, in all seriousness we entered this arena because we care about our communities, our states and our nation, and we are committed to be the dynamic force of change that we want to see. Let’s face it – we all believe that it is our responsibility to leave this place better than we found it and ultimately that is why we are here… The other stuff is the icing on top.
So maybe this is why I can’t quite yet describe my recovery as blissful… I haven’t yet figured out how to make an impact from this side of the fence.
So I hope that Tom Allen is right that while some of us may be recovering from our losses, that none of us are recovering from politics/public service. And I hope that someone out there can help me make the transition… stay tuned!
By Jonathan Miller, on Tue Apr 19, 2011 at 9:15 AM ET
Pardon the interruption for some HUGE RP NEWS:
Contributing RP Jeff Smith, his stunning inaugural piece on his journey from politics to prison, and The Recovering Politician Web site, were highlighted this week by New York magazine’s The Approval Matrix, a leading national arbiter of the pop culture zeitgeist. (And now a TV show on Bravo.)
Best yet — Smith’s piece received the top rating: The Approval Matrix deemed it “Highbrow” (vs. “Lowbrow”) and “Brilliant” (vs. “Despicable”).
A pretty incredible development for a contributing recovering politician just beginning his second act and a Web site in only its third week.
Here is the screenshot of the top right corner of the matrix — click on it to read the entire page at the New York web site:
By Jonathan Miller, on Tue Apr 19, 2011 at 8:30 AM ET
By popular demand, today’s guest on RPTV’s Fifteen Minutes of Fame is contributing RP and former Missouri State Senator Jeff Smith. Jeff’s inaugural post for The Recovering Politician has electrified the blogosphere; already more than 10,000 people have read Jeff’s stunningly candid retelling of his post-political experiences in a federal prison.
In this morning’s interview, Jeff addresses many of the questions that our readers have posed since his article’s posting on April 4. If you are new to this site, be sure to read the following articles BEFORE you watch the interview:
I am writing this while spending spring break with my family driving through North Carolina and Virginia visiting colleges with my sixteenyear-old daughter, Catherine. As we were driving from Lexington,Kentucky, to Charlotte, North Carolina, to begin our college search at Davidson, we began to discuss previous family spring break trips – Hilton Head, California, and skiing in Utah. I then asked my family what trip was before Utah and my family responded that I was still in politics before Utah and then reminded me that we seldom, if ever, went on spring break trips while I was a part of the political world.
That response is a perfect example of how my family discusses our family experiences: during politics and after politics. My children favor the after-politics period. A few months after my forced exit from public life, my son and I were heading home from the golf course and my son out-of-the-blue told me to not take it the wrong way, but he was glad I had lost my Supreme Court race. Although I wish that I had won the election, I, like my family, have loved my life after politics. I am probably still a recovering politician, but I think I may be in the final steps of recovery. In fact, I have traveled full circle.
I have known the founder of Recovering Politician since high school. When Jonathan Miller returned to Kentucky in the 1990s to run for State Treasurer, we had lunch together. I still remember our conversation. I had lost faith in the political system and I believed that it was generally a waste of time. I wrote Jonathan a small contribution and got my law partners to also write small contributions in support of Jonathan’s campaign. Jonathan had only Democratic opposition and this fact made it very easy to support my friend.
A few years later, I had become disenchanted with my law practice and in early 2000 I agreed to run Scott Crosbie’s 2002 Lexington, Kentucky, mayoral campaign. Although I had grown up around politics, I had never worked in a campaign full-time. Scott and I discussed that I may need to find some sort of campaign school or seminar to attend. It turned out that there was no need to find training because in April 2000, then-Congressman Ernie Fletcher asked me to run his 2000congressional campaign. Former Congressman Scotty Baesler had decided to try to take his seat back and I was thrust into one of the top-five targeted races by the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee and the AFL-CIO. I was convinced that the Lord had opened this door to provide me the skills necessary toget Scott Crosbie elected Mayor in 2002. Congressman Fletcher went on to crush Baesler in the fall of 2000. I then returned to the law firm for a brief period and began to get ready for the Lexington mayoral campaign.
The 2002 mayoral election began in 2001 and for over eighteen months Scott and I experienced the highest highs and the lowest lows. We suffered at the hands of abiasednewspaper, with its seeminglydaily negative coverage of our campaign. We survived a three-way primary and then ultimately lost the general election by 1300 votes. The loss was one of the most difficult periods of my life. I was convinced that the Lord had brought Scott and me together to help change Lexington and I was extremely disappointed. After election night I had no idea what was next. I spent the next three weeks watching Season 1 episodes of “24” and watching multiple seasons of the Sopranos at all hours of the night.
By late 2002 Congressman Fletcher was running for Governor of Kentucky and I did not believe that I could participate in another campaign. I was extremely tired, and I spent much too much time away from my family. Instead, I became the district director of his congressional office. After Ernie’s victory in the fall of 2003, Governor Fletcher asked me to be General Counsel to the Governor. I was thrilled. I had grown up in the Democratic bastion of Frankfort, Kentucky, and was excited to be a part of changing the culture of Frankfort and our state. Ernie Fletcher is the most impressive and genuine person I ever had the privilege to meet in politics. He was smart and driven to make Kentucky more economically competitive. It was an honor to be his lawyer and the head lawyer for his administration.
The first year of the administration required a tremendous commitment of time. My family still reminds me of the 7 1/2 hour conference call while we were on vacation at Martha’s Vineyard in June of 2004. Our administration not only had to deal with the normal challenges of a first-year administration but also had to plan and defend running the government without a legislatively enacted budget. Ultimately, after my work schedule caused me to cancel a one-day family trip, I decided in early 2005 that I was ready to leave public service behind. I told Governor Fletcher that I would stay until the end of 2005.
A few months after that decision, Justice James Keller announced his retirement from the Kentucky Supreme Court. I gave the vacancy an initial passing thought but did not give it serious thought. However, that would soon change. Before oral argument at the Kentucky Supreme Court concerning the power of the Governor to run the executive branch without a budget, one of my law classmates who was representing State Treasurer Jonathan Miller in the litigation came up to me and said that I should pursue the appointment. He was a Democrat and indicated he would publicly support me. After prayer and discussions with my wife, I decided to inform Governor Fletcher of my interest. Governor Fletcher asked what had changed my mind about leaving public service. I responded that the Supreme Court position was a dream position and I decided it would be worth the sacrifices of public service.
Ultimately, I was appointed to the Kentucky Supreme Court. I loved my job. I loved the research and the writing and I believed that everything that had happened in my professional life had prepared me for the position. However, the dream would end in over seventeen months when I was defeated in an election to keep my position. What was most surprising about the defeat was that I did not enter into the same post-election mood that I suffered through when I was Scott Crosbie’s campaign manager. In fact, I got up the day after the election and I went to my chambers and worked on judicial opinions.
What was the difference between 2002 and 2006? Although I have miles to go, I believe that my faith had matured. By 2006, I understood that if God is sovereign on the day you were appointed to the Supreme Court he is also sovereign on the day you lost.
I returned to my old law firm in late 2006 and I am still with Ransdell & Roach PLLC. For the first time since I became a lawyer, I truly enjoy private practice. Since my forced early retirement from politics I have had little to do with politics and feel much like I did at my lunch meeting with Jonathan Miller in 1999. However, I must confess I stayed up most of the night during the election night coverage in November, 2010. I guess you are never fully recovered.
