Nov. 20, 2007 Rudy Giuliani applauds Obama for being open about his teenage drug use: “I respect his honesty in doing that. I think that one of the things we need from our people who are running for office is not this pretense of perfection. The reality is all of us that run for public office, whether its governor, legislator, mayor, president–we are all human beings. If we haven’t made mistakes don’t vote for us.”

Oct. 20, 2008 Rudy Giuliani wonders why the press--and specifically the New York Times--isn't writing more about Obama's teenage drug use: “There shouldn’t be two different rules for Republicans and Democrats... You can’t even — you can’t even raise these issues. And, you know, God forbid somebody would do some reporting on Barack Obama’s use of drugs."

Amazing what can happen to a thrice-married, pro-choice, pro-gay-rights, pro-gun-control, pro-cross-dressing former mayor of the nation's leading den of iniquity when he no longer has to convince people he should be president, isn't it?

Oh, and BTW: The New York Times has already investigated Obama's past drug use. After "three dozen interviews" with friends and associates, the paper found in February that the young Obama “did not appear to be grappling with any drug problems and seemed to dabble only with marijuana.”

Damn liberal media. Bunch of dope smokers if you ask me.

Contributed by Sarah Elkins 

"I was like, 'Dude, Rudy Giuliani at Ron Jon's, you know?" he told me afterwards. "What's the connection there?"

Not much, it turns out. Unlike the day's earlier events--synagogue, pizza parlor, Italian-American club--the stop at Ron Jon was less a targeted appeal to one of Rudy's natural constituencies than, well, a whim. According to the Ron Jon manager responsible for arranging the appearance, Giuliani spotted the Ron Jon billboards last time he was cruising the western coast of Florida and was "intrigued." And while Rudy might be the last person in the world I can imagine noseriding a Yater 'Spoon' down the face of a glassy four-footer, Ron Jon was happy to have him. "All these people and newspapers guys in the store?" the manager said. "No brainer." He was quick to add that Ron Jon does not endorse any candidate.

Thankfully, Rudy did not utter the word "cowabunga," sticking instead to, as one supporter put it, "the usual: defeating the terrorists, winning the war, cutting taxes." He not exactly the windiest candidate--at 15 minutes flat, the Ron Jon remarks set the day's speed record--or the loosest. Neil Orstman, a 65-year-old New Yorker in town on a camping trip, waited for a "lull in the patter" to ask why the Big Apple is "still a sanctuary city." Giuliani didn't blink--or respond. "It's not like I was a supporter anyway," said a peeved Orstman.

Harris, though, begged to differ. "Rudy's a pretty smooth cat," he said. "I like him. While McCain and Romney are going at it, he's sitting back, chilling. I bet he'll get a boost at the end." As a show of solidarity--or perhaps pure pranksterism--Harris managed to sneak around the back of the bus and slap a Ron Jon sticker on its bumper. He did, however, have one complaint. When I told him that I spent my childhood summers a few blocks from the original Ron Jon on Long Beach Island, N.J.--I also happen to be a half-Jewish, half-Italian pizza aficionado who lives in Brooklyn, so you can see why I chose this particular day to roadtrip with Rudy--he laughed. "It feels like New Jersey Ron Jon's here tonight," he said. "Too damn cold. I think you guys brought the weather down with you." After spending a day in Hizzoner's "element," it seemed almost possible.

Or maybe not. As I was saying goodbye to Harris, a silver sports coupe pulled up to the curb. "Who's that?" asked a swarthy teenager in the passenger seat, pointing to Giuliani's bus.

"The mayor of New York," said Harris. He arched his eyebrows as if to say, Are you serious?

Apparently, the kid was serious.

"He was the mayor of New York," Harris repeated. No response. "And, um he's running for president?" Still nothing. "Sept. 11 and all?"

And then, at last, a flicker of recognition.

"You mean the bald guy?"

VERO BEACH, Fla.--I spotted the sign as I pulled up to the Italian-American Civic Association here in Vero Beach, stuck in the lawn right next to a RUDY placard: "PASTA DINNER SUNDAY" and then, in Magic Marker, "4:15-7:15." At first, I was confused. One of the other signs said the feast was set to start at 4:00 sharp. Then it hit me.

The kind men and women of the Civic Association had graciously delayed their dinner. For 15 whole minutes. For a potential president.

Trust me. For us Italian-Americans--"Romano," I'm told, isn't Scandinavian--15 minutes is an eternity when you're waiting for some spaghetti.

Good thing Giuliani was running right on schedule. At 3:00 on the dot, he pulled up in his "Florida is Giuliani Country" bus, the "Rudy" soundtrack blaring from the PA, and sprinted to the stage. With a "Tested. Ready. Now" banner behind him, Hizzoner shifted the spotlight from terrorism--this morning's obsession--to the economy, the top concern of the retirees in attendance. "I'm the only Republican who's done a turnaround of a major economy," he said. "I left New York City a much stronger place than what was handed to me. I can do the same thing for the country, with the same principles." Cue geriatric cheering, which was exceeded in volume only when Rudy promised to "fight hard to make sure your social security is secure." Go figure.

Three stops into my Roadtrip with Rudy, I have to wonder whether appealing to the constituencies that would back you no matter what--Jews, Italians, former New Yorkers, pizza lovers--is the best way to mount a Florida comeback. After the rally, I asked a wiry little fellow originally from Bensonhurst, Brooklyn if he was an Italian-American. "I'm Italian," he said. "Speak it, too." You a Giuliani supporter? "Oh yeah. Ever since he was mayor. Did a good job on... what you call it? 5-11?" 9/11? I ventured. "That's right. 9/11." It's obvious that Giuliani is spending the day playing to his strengths and hoping to lure as many of these core "no questions asked" supporters to the polls as possible. But there's a certain futility implied, as if he's tacitly conceding that he's lost the larger blocs--national-security Republicans, for example, who are flocking to McCain--and is now content to nibble around edges in the final hours before the primary.

Speaking of nibbling, Giuliani wrapped up his remarks a brief 25 minutes after arriving. An Italian-American himself, perhaps he sensed the oncoming meal--or smelled it, rather, as the aroma of tomato sauce wafted through the room. Either way, five minutes later, the buffet pans were out, the fixins bar was ready and the rows of chairs had been replaced by a banquet arrangement. Rudy's bus was still in the lot. "Wow, that was really fast," said one Giuliani staffer. There were already little cups of grated parmesan in the middle of each table. 

The maverick, Reagan-era, red-bereted citizen crime fighters were out in full force at Rudy's appearance just now in Port Saint Lucie. It only added to the event's odd Big-Apple atmosphere. There was, of course, the pizza--Paisano's Gourmet, to be exact. (Giuliani didn't bother to taste any). There were also cops, showing off enough sirens and flashing lightbars to make Hizzoner feel right at home. And then there was the couple I spoke to afterwards: she with big, black hair and tight pants, he with a big black mustache--and tight pants. I asked if Rudy had said anything that special. "No," she said. "But that's only because we already know everything about him. We're big fans." Are you from Florida? I asked. (They didn't look particularly Floridian.) "New York," she said. But of course. "I lived there before Rudy, with all the crime and corruption, and I saw how he turned it around. He'll do the same thing for America." She waved her cigarette regally.

The only un-New York note: Giuliani tsk-tsking his rivals for being too combative. “Well, I think my opponents should not be attacking each other,” he said, referring to Romney and McCain's ongoing spat over Iraq. Fuggedaboutit.

It's ironic. Now that Giuliani's tied with John McCain in New York--he used to lead by 33 points--the Empire State itself may not be guaranteed "Giuliani Country." But down here in the Sunshine State, the former mayor is still counting on his paisans to make him king of the hill. Or top of the heap.

That said, Rudy might've done well to take it a bit slower, Southern-style. Less than a half-hour after he arrived, he was back on his bus. One Guardian Angel told me that he "wish[ed] he'd hung around a little longer."

Nothing like a New York minute to keep 'em wanting more.
 

 
BOCA RATON, Fla.—We’re not in Iowa anymore, Toto.

Rudy Giuliani just wrapped up his first stop on Sunday’s “Florida is Giuliani Country” tour—a pizzeria, Italian-American club and surf shop are still come-—and it’s pretty clear already why the Hawkeye State never earned that particular sobriquet. It’s kind of hard to imagine, for example, that Giuliani could deliver a line like “I used to tell Ehud Olmert, when he was mayor of Jerusalem, that I had more Jewish citizens that he did” to rapturous applause in, say, Maquoketa.

But it killed at the Boca Raton Synagogue.

His gleaming pate partially covered by a yarmulke, Hizzoner was surprisingly sanguine—even sedate—for someone on the cusp of losing his firewall state.  He did his usual “Islamic terrorists’ war against us” shtick, saying that he could sum up his approach in one word: “offense.” “They want to conquer us, destroy us, take us over,” he added. But much of the speech was spent rattling off his Jewish bona fides, including the fact that he visited Israel three times as mayor, once booted Yasir Arafat from Lincoln Center and was born in Brooklyn—another line that wouldn't have had quite the same effect in Iowa.

It seemed almost half-hearted, to be honest—as if the mayor had already accepted his fate and was merely going through the motions--and I came away less impressed with Giuliani than I’d been in the past. But then again, I’m not part of the choir he’s preaching to. (So to speak.) After the event, local teacher Vicki Hercsky, 47, told me that a vote for Giuliani is “common sense.” “I don’t even know how it could be a question,” she said. “Now with Israel in the state it’s in… you don’t stand up, you get pushed over.” I asked if she’d be disappointed to see Rudy lose.

“Not disappointed,” she said. “Devastated.”

We'll see Tuesday if there are enough Vicki Hercskys left in "Giuliani Country" to keep that from happening.

BOCA RATON, Fla.—Rudy Giuliani has seen better days.

Take, for example, Dec. 16, 2007, the day CNN and Gallup released a national poll showing Giuliani crushing his rivals for the Republican nomination by 11 points. Or, for that matter, any day before Dec. 16, 2007, when he led the field by as much as 24. In every single poll. Here in Florida, one need only look to Jan. 7—a mere three weeks ago—to find Giuliani up by seven. If you scroll back to November, the margin expands to 21.

But alas. Today, Giuliani trails Mitt Romney and John McCain by seven in the Sunshine State and places a distant fourth in national surveys behind McCain, Romney and Huckabee. If the early-state voters are to be trusted, Giuliani is currently a less viable contender for the GOP nod than Ron Paul. America's Mayor finished sixth in Iowa, fourth in New Hampshire and sixth again in South Carolina; Paul at least managed fifth-place finishes in the Hawkeye and Palmetto States.

It's not hard to see why. Despite what Michael Goodwin writes in today's New York Daily News—"RUDY GIULIANI COULDN'T OVERCOME HIS PRO-CHOICE STANCE"—it's pretty clear (to me, at least) that his downfall has less to do with departures from conservative orthodoxy (which were well-publicized by December, when he was still ahead) than a totally unfavorable primary schedule. Giuliani's strategists realized early on that a pugnacious, socially-liberal Italian-American couldn't compete in sweet, evangelical Iowa, so they retreated to anti-tax, northeastern New Hampshire, where they outspent and outadvertised everyone save Romney. But losing in Iowa made Rudy look like a loser, and so his Granite State poll numbers slipped, too. Looking ahead, the campaign saw South Carolina—no place for somewhat scandalized Yankee-—and Florida. They decided to stake it all on the delegate-rich land of snowbirds, immigrants, Jewish retirees and northeastern transplants. He'll finally be in his element, they thought.

But even though Giuliani hasn't campaigned anywhere else since the first week of January, Florida hasn't returned the favor. Thinking that we might not see much of Rudy after Tuesday's primary—Hizzoner himself has said it's a must-win at this point-—I've decided to spend the day "in his element" with him. Luckily, the campaign has scheduled a bus trip up the western coast of Florida that's almost cartoonishly Rudy. Honestly, for a fellow New Yorker, today's itinerary was just too good to resist: a morning stop at a Jewish synagogue in Boca Raton! Afternoon visits to a pizzeria in Port Saint Lucie and an Italian-American club in Vero Beach!  An evening rally at a New Jersey-based surf shop in Cocoa Beach! The decal on the side of Giuliani's bus says "Florida is Giuliani Country"—a fitting slogan considering that, while he may not win, at least he can get a decent slice while he's at it. 

I'll be posting short dispatches after each stop. Can you say roadtrip? It'll be just like we're back in the Big Apple.

Here's NEWSWEEK'S Holly Bailey from Boca Raton with a report on last night's Republican snoozefest... or, um, "debate":

Maybe Fred Thompson should have stayed in after all. His droll one-liners might have enlivened what was one of the flattest performances yet from a group of GOP candidates who have done battle on the debate stage 18 times before. Familiarity is breeding contempt-not among the combatants, but perhaps among members of the viewing audience.

As the Democratic field has narrowed to a two-candidate contest, the back-and-forth has grown more intense, as evidenced by the sharp sticks Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama poked in each others' eyes last Monday, during a Martin Luther King Day smackdown in South Carolina. But the GOP field has remained a bit more fluid. Florida's crucial Republican primary looms on Jan. 29-a vote which may well determine whether Rudy Giuliani can stay in the race, whether John McCain builds on his past victories to establish a serious head of steam heading into Super Tuesday, whether Mitt Romney can muster Southern appeal, and whether Mike Huckabee has a prayer. But instead of taking sharp aim at one another, the leading Republican candidates seemed more interested in getting their licks in against Clinton, too.

If you somehow missed the first 75 minutes of the debate, broadcast on MSNBC from Florida Atlantic University in Boca Raton, Fla., thank your lucky stars. Did anyone try to stand out? Not really. In spite of an attempt at serious questions about what to do about the struggling economy, the candidates stuck to their usual talking points, extolling the virtues of tax cuts, endorsing stimulus plans and cutting spending. Giuliani talked up his time as mayor of New York City, again; in a guaranteed applause line, McCain trashed the Bridge to Nowhere-four times to be exact. It felt like the film Groundhog Day-except for the few mentions of Florida-centric issues like the National Catastrophic Fund, which Giuliani supports and the other candidates are slightly iffy on. (Guess what's going to be the top story in Friday's Florida papers?)

The most exciting moment in the first half hour? A shot of Florida Gov. Charlie Crist sitting in the audience. On TV, he was so tan he looked like an Oompa Loompa.

Read the rest here. 

By Holly Bailey

In the early states, it wasn't unusual to see the presidential candidates basically campaigning on top of one another. Mitt Romney once bumped into Barack Obama while canvassing for votes in New Hampshire, while Mike Huckabee's bus almost collided with Fred Thompson's bus last month in Pella, Iowa. Meanwhile, John Edwards literally missed Michelle Obama by minutes while campaigning at a library in tiny Monticello, Iowa, last November--prompting loads of joking outrage among rival staffers about advancing their event sites a little better.

With the campaign now moving into bigger states, like Florida, you'd imagine that these near misses would stop happening. Think again. Last night, Rudy Giuliani and John McCain slept under the same roof at a Hilton hotel in Deerfield Beach, Fla., not far from the site of tonight's GOP debate at Florida Atlantic University. Reporters traveling with McCain discovered the coincidence randomly: during check-in yesterday, a photographer noticed a stack of room keys labeled with the names of Giuliani's top staffers sitting at the Hilton's front desk.

Aides say they didn't run into each other-Giuliani arrived late last night, while McCain arrived early to appear at a nearby fundraiser and snuck out early for another money event Thursday morning. A run-in likely wouldn't be too awkward. Unlike the chilly relationship he has with Romney, McCain and Giuliani are friends, with the former mayor once even telling an Iowa audience last summer that if he weren't running for president himself he'd be stumping for McCain. (Way to talk yourself up, Rudy.) Still, Giuliani might plot a discreet exit out the backdoor before tonight's debate. McCain is scheduled to host a pre-debate rally at the Hilton tonight.

Fans of Hollywood royalty are now facing an even more difficult decision in the 2008 election as three of the nation's brightest stars yesterday announced conflicting presidential endorsements.

Sadly, after weeks of heated negotiations, Jon Voight could not reach an agreement with America Ferrara and Amber Tamblyn to throw their considerable influence behind a single candidate, leaving the 69-year-old star to endorse Republican Rudy Giuliani as the pair of younger actresses simultaneously declared their allegiance to Democrat Hillary Clinton.

Like many Americans, Stumper was shocked and saddened upon first learning that Voight, Ferrara and Tamblyn had brazenly bypassed this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to unite our riven nation. But after several seconds of soul-searching, I decided to carry on. Like any responsible citizen, I resolved that I would take a sober look at each endorsee's resume and, having done so, determine which candidate to support solely on the basis of the credentials contained therein.

To IMDB I went.

What I found was shocking. While Ferrara and Tamblyn comprise a full half of the entire "Sisterhood of the Traveleing Pants"--a convincing argument for their authority, if not for the absence of fellow Pants-mates Blake Lively and Alexis Bledel--the only relevant experience either of them bring to the process of picking a president is Tamblyn's 2002 stint as Senior Cadet Valerie Barreiro on an episode of CSI: Miami. Ferrara even spent time as something called "Thunder Monkey."

In contrast, Voight's record is studded with weighty positions: Defense Secretary John Keller (2007), Senator Thomas Jordan (2004), Pope John Paul II (2005), New York police officer Francis Tierney, Sr. (2008), Maj. Gen. Jürgen Stroop (2001), Lord Richard Croft (2001), Gen. Adam Woodward (1997) and even President Franklin Delano Roosevelt (2001).

With a resume like that, it is incumbent upon all Americans to follow in Voight's footsteps and support Rudy Giuliani for president. The man knows of what he speaks.

And that's not just because Voight's children refuse to talk to him, too.

Guess which candidate delivered the following message to a Spanish evangelical church this morning (via ABC's Political Punch):

Saying that "faith can transform lives," _______ told parishioners that running for president of the United States "is a marathon, not a sprint.  And in may ways it's a test of strength and a test of faith.  The Bible reminds us, Joshua 10:25, 'Fear not, be strong, and of good courage.' That is the way to face the future. ... So I am not coming here to ask for your vote. This is not the right place.  I am coming here to ask you of something, very special, very important: I am asking for your prayers."

Hint Numero Uno: After a string of early losses, the candidate in question has staked his entire campaign on winning Florida (site of today's event).

Hint Numero Dos: He looks like a human skull.

That's right, sports fans: Rudy. Of course, when asked by an Iowa voter in August about his religion, Giuliani demurred. "My religious affiliation, my religious practices and the degree to which I am a good or not-so-good Catholic, I prefer to leave to the priests," he said. Now he's scrounging for prayers.

Desperate times, it seems, call for desperate measures.

From my wrap-up of Thursday's South Carolina showdown: 

You could almost hear them yawning. The pundits and prognosticators paid to talk endlessly about politics had little else to say. After an hour-and-a-half on stage in Myrtle Beach, S.C., Thursday night, the six leading Republican candidates for president had produced no fireworks, no slapfests, no real "news."

In a narrow sense, the chattering classes were right--nothing changed over the course of those 90 minutes. Mitt Romney didn't short-circuit; Mike Huckabee didn't levitate. But what we got instead what just as interesting--and probably more informative. After a one-two primary punch in Iowa and New Hampshire that only muddled an already confusing contest, the Republican race now looks more like a Rubik's Cube than a chessboard--a cluster of regional competitions with different contestants who each have different objectives, all moving at once.

Consider Thursday’s Dixieland debate a sneak peek at the dynamics that will define the next three weeks. Facing a burst of make-or-break primaries in three wildly dissimilar states--Michigan on Jan. 15; South Carolina on Jan. 19 and Florida on Jan. 29--the candidates revealed exactly how they expect to survive until Tsunami Tuesday on Feb. 5.

Read the rest here.

It's only just begun. After five days of rapturous reports about the energy and excitement--much of it youthful--surrounding Barack Obama in the wake of his surprise Iowa rout, expectations in New Hampshire were sky-high for the freshman Illinois senator. But when the Granite State spoke, it was not Obama who'd won--it was once (and perhaps future) frontrunner Hillary Clinton by two percent, overcoming the doubts of pundits, pollsters, her staff and even her husband to right her careening campaign.  And while the Republican result was less of a shock--McCain by eight, just as the polls predicted--it left the party faithful no closer than the Democrats to choosing a candidate to lead them into next November's election. Such is the pleasure--and the pain--of the most unpredictable presidential primary contest in modern memory.


Read the Full Story Here

RUDY GIULIANI
Pre-Primary Polling Average: Fourth Place, 9.3 percent 

Despite finishing second only to McCain in terms of days spent in New Hampshire--41 to the Arizona senator's 46--Giuliani hasn't really been competitive here since September. Rudy has basically admitted as much, telling everyone who will listen that he's focusing on Florida and the Feb. 5 states instead. Which means that no one expects a medal finish. Still, it's not all upside tonight; Ron Paul, who's only one point behind, has a chance to top Hizzoner--an embarrassing headline. Looking ahead, these early losses will likely add up, affecting Giuliani's standing in the all-important big states; he's already ceded his national edge to Huckabee, and that could trickle down. Will it be enough to shatter his huge leads in California, New Jersey and New York? We'll know in a month.

RON PAUL
Pre-Primary Polling Average: Fifth Place, 8.2 percent

Paul's libertarian message is a natural fit in the state of "Live Free, or Die." And because he attracts new voters, he tends to do slightly better than polls predict (2.7 percent in Iowa, to be exact). But Paul isn't going to overcome McCain or Romney. On the plus side, expectations are at rock-bottom. If the good doctor beats Huckabee and/or Giuliani, the media will swarm, giving him the sort of attention he'll need if he later decides to run as a third-party candidate. That's the best-case scenario. Sorry, Paulites.

FRED THOMPSON
Pre-Primary Polling Average: Sixth, 2.2. percent

Thompson is toast. He's put all his chips on South Carolina--a state where Huckabee is now trouncing him by 20 points. Unless they find a hooker in Huck's pulpit between now and Jan. 19, it's over. Paging Dick Wolf.