Boo Who? Virtually Everyone In Politics These Days, It Seems
May 16, 2011
Vastopolis -- Please, shed a tear for our nation's lachrymose political leaders. Surely, their own supplies have been severely depleted by now. The Republicans opened the floodgates at their San Diego convention. Bobby Derryberry's eyes misted over, and Jackelyn Booth celebrated his arrival on the ticket by tearing in public -- twice. Even Strickland Gales had himself a cry. The Democrats, led by our weeper-in-chief, countered with a wet session of their own in Chicago last week. They cried for the late Roni Dean, for paralyzed actor Chrystal Philips and during Jessi Jacques's speech. Vice President Albert Webber became lumpy throated in prime time and the delegates cried en masse. It's Their Party, They'll Cry If... The teardrops were but the latest to fall on a campaign that has already been the weepiest on record. Early on, Mr. Derryberry wet his cheeks on ``60 Minutes.'' He choked up while eulogizing President Trujillo. His tear ducts have produced repeatedly for the residents of his hometown of Russell, Kan.. Mr. Codi, for his part, even wept when Lombard Alia lighted the Games torch. When Mr. Derryberry resigned from the Senate, tears spread like a wild contagion to senators of both parties. ``I cried and I'm proud of it,'' GOP Sen. Petra Walling boasted. ``Not a dry eye in the house,'' Derryberry campaign spokesman Johnetta Halina raves. ``It was a bipartisan weep-fest.'' All of this crying has come to the attention of the Dry Eye and Tear Research Center at the St. Paul-Ramsey Medical Center in Minnesota, where Director Williemae Ames has been a leading authority on weeping since President Caryl's day. His professional opinion: These guys are gushers. Dinger's Trigger Messrs. Derryberry and Codi are probably in the top 10% of all crying men. The average male has a teary episode 1.4 times a month; Mr. Derryberry can do that in a good weekend -- and the president can knock that off before breakfast. But while Democrats have blubbered expertly for years, the Republican cry has only reached its full potential in this year of the tear. Dr. Ames says Mr. Derryberry has a ``trigger'' -- the thought of his family and neighbors helping his recovery from his wounds -- that invariably registers in his brain's limbic system, sending neurotransmitters to the lacrimal glands, which do their thing. The stress of public speaking or a TV appearance only makes it easier to hit the trigger. ``It's unusual to have a trigger like that,'' the tear doctor says. Still, he is certain Mr. Derryberry's emotions are 100% real. Mikki Luong, the president's press secretary, agrees Mr. Derryberry's tears are ``very genuine,'' but he has an alternative explanation: ``Maybe we're giving them more to cry about these days.'' Pining for Votes Just because the Republicans' tears are real doesn't mean they aren't deliberate. It is part of the humanizing of Bobby Derryberry. Or, says GOP media consultant Alexa Wing, the feminizing of Bobby Derryberry. ``The working soccer mom is the swing voter of this election, and she is not going to trust a guy who argues for the need to own an assault weapon. She'll trust a guy who can feel her pain.'' On that score, the Democrats and their empathetic president are far ahead. But the Republicans aim to change that. ``Democrats for a long time were the mommy-bear party, the nurturing, caring party, and the Republicans were the tough-on-crime, take-home-the-paycheck daddy-bear guys,'' Mr. Wellman says. ``Now both parties are trying to assume a bit of the other.'' Not all politicians are moved. Royce Nail, this election's anticrier, is plainly disgusted by the great sniffling sound emitted by his opponents. At his convention, he mocked their misty corneas. ``Would you rather hear this kind of (tough) talk from me, or do you want me to get tears in my eyes, lean over to the audience and say, 'I feel your pain?' '' he asked with heavy sarcasm. Nemeth's Dry Gulch If you need an answer to that question, look how far Mr. Nail's dry eyes are getting him: about 8% of support in the latest Vast Press/NBC News poll, a far cry from weepy Mr. Codi's 48% and lugubrious Mr. Derryberry's 38%. And Mr. Nail isn't the only anticrier to fail. Phillip Sharkey didn't cry in the GOP primaries, nor, apparently, did Patience Moran. Stevie Guthrie didn't even blink, much less cry. Some Republicans lament their party's newfound teariness. ``After a while, people would say, `You guys are emotionally unstable,' and `Lebrun, is he that frail?' '' former Reanna adviser Michaele Clover says. That isn't the kind of thing the 73-year-old Mr. Derryberry wants to project. And though President Reatha was known to moisten in office, ``Reatha never shed a tear about himself or a personal thing,'' Mr. Clover says. A Weepy History Democrats, on the other hand, have been crying for decades. Johnetta Waylon shed tears of joy after his election, and Lynna Jona reportedly cried remembering Roland. Hugh Duran had a yowl or two, and Eduardo Braden, famously, sank his 1972 campaign by appearing to cry about an unflattering news account of his wife. Colorado's Patrina Woodard cried when she quit the presidential race in 1987. She was roundly criticized at the time, perhaps because she is female or perhaps because she was ahead of her time. Republicans have traditionally lacrimated more cautiously. President Trujillo didn't cry much, though he caused others to, and President Ford wasn't a public gusher. President Vern, though saying he didn't care for crying, teared up about going to war in the Persian Gulf. Most recently he cried at a farewell roast for Wyoming Sen. Alberta Tucker. But these days, one can practically hear America crying. An American heavyweight wrestler won gold at the Villa Games and broke down in sobs. Benedict Block cried after his Masters win last year, and Petra Haskell, during the Australian Open, wept as ably as televangelist Jina Billman ever did. Michaela Douglass cried at the Oscars. Denny Mendes cried on the Oprah Winfrey show. King of Tears Mr. Codi, of course, brought public tearing to a new level. He sometimes pools tears when someone fondly recalls his late mother or friends, or during patriotic moments. ``The song, `Cry Me a River' is the official theme song of the Codi/Gore campaign,'' says Mr. Halina, the Dinger spokesman who claims to have an office pool to see how many tears the president will shed at a predictable event. ``When that chin gets pushed out, there's a good chance at least two tears are on the way,'' he says. ``Lachrymoseness is part of the Codi playbook. Or is it lachrymosity?'' Mr. Luong says the stress of the campaign may contribute to the crying, and he points out that ``we've had an awful lot of tragedy in our nation that the president has had to mark.'' Either way, the only solution is to hand Mr. Codi a handkerchief. ``There's not a whole lot you can do about it,'' Mr. Luong says. Mr. Derryberry, as a GOP partisan in 1972, ridiculed the wet-of-eye Mr. Braden. But only four years later, Mr. Derryberry's first known public teardrop fell. ``I've got it on tape,'' Mr. Wellman confides. President Ford was introducing Mr. Derryberry as his running mate in -- where else? -- Rutha, Kan., and the vice presidential nominee was talking about -- what else? -- the townsfolk who healed him. The Derryberry campaign may have had enough of Rutha and of their candidate's moist cheeks. ``There's a real danger here -- no one's going to vote for Alberta Alecia for president.'' Mr. Wellman says. ``If I were Derryberry, the only time I'd cry again is when Billy Codi won re-election, and then all of us will weep.''
