Las Vegas, Nevada
Sunday, 13 March 2007
0930 Hours, Local
It ordinarily would have been any other sort of day for Amadeus Putnam on the campaign trail and he and Kenzie had promised themselves no days off until they were back in New Hampshire, but that day, they both agreed they needed it. It was not even a week into time on the campaign trail, but yesterday had ended poorly.
Las Vegas loved Amadeus. His libertarian positions and belief that victimless crimes should be decriminalized made a town known for sin and vice very excited and Nevada was also a great place to talk about his position on guns and leaving people alone. Unfortunately, visiting the Vegas strip last night was a bad idea. Amadeus’ sensory issues made the cacophony of noise and the bright flashed of light a nightmare for him and he had collapsed on his way back to the car after a rally. His comments on decriminalizing sex work and how prohibition had hurt too may members of the world’s oldest profession were dwarfed by his anxiety attack, that Amanda and her team were quickly trying to play off as simple clumsiness.
Amadeus had gotten to a Marriot well away from the Vegas strip and he was still in bed at 0930. Kenzie had ordered them both room service and the two had breakfast in bed. Amadeus’ western omlette and home fries were remarkably good, and his Earl Grey tea, which he always took black was just the right temperature and steeped until very bitter. They were both wearing the hotel bathrobes and were remarkably comfortable.
“Kenzie, I’m glad we’re taking a day off, I didn’t expect my issues to boil to the surface like that,” Amadeus said, “we’ve been working hard and everything compounded in that nightmarish world of clutter last night, there was a reason God created the sabbath.”
Kenzie kissed him on the forehead and said, “I know, and it would be nice to take a day for ourselves. No press, no camera, no speeches, no rallies. I think Amanda can handle it, right/ Also, all this travel in that small, cramped plane. Oh, and please don’t put the news on for my sake.”
“It’s an adventure,” said Amadeus, and it’s full of twists and turns, “we can’t always control what happens to us, only how we react.”
“Anyway, we should be tourists and maybe go for a walk, go horseback riding, or go see the Hoover Dam or see a show or a museum!” Kenzie was smiling, not the pasted-on politician kind, but a genuine and warm kind. The two decided they would go to Mass and plan out their day afterwards. They would be leaving for South Carolina in their small plane on a red-eye flight and a day of rest would be good for them both.
Amadeus called Amanda to arrange a car to take them to the nearest Catholic parish church. They were accompanied by a press secretary who would shield the couple for the day as they got some peace. Amadeus knew his fall was raising questions, he wasn’t going to let anyone know about his sensory issues nor his autism. He would rather people think he had a seizure or a heart attack than an anxiety attack from overstimulation. He was able to handle New York or DC or Boston with no trouble, but he simply had not mentally prepared himself for the Vegas strip. He decided he wasn’t wearing a suit that day and decided as a tourist he would be wearing a bowling shirt, khaki pants, his more comfortable dress shoes and top it off with a Stetson hat. Kenzie picked out a tasteful sundress and cowboy boots. A van was ready to pick them up along with press coordinator, a young woman named Rebecca Glenn from Tacoma, Washington.
A small press group was stalking the pair, while the cameras were to be expected, anyone who came to ask them questions were brushed off by Rebecca, “Congressman Putnam, did your trip yesterday indicate anything?”
“As you can see, Amadeus Putnam and his wife are capable of walking just fine. He simply tripped, something too many have done,” said Glenn capably.
“Is he having any health problems?” asked another reporter.
“Only migraines when he gets harassed on his way to Mass,” said Glenn sarcastically.
“Does Putnam have epilepsy?” asked third.
“The Congresswoman has never been diagnosed with epilepsy,” said Rebecca,
“I am a clinical psychologist and professor of psychology at Franklin Pierce University and have a doctorate in clinical psychology from Boston University, I will tell you this about my husband, he does not have any mental disorders with which he can be diagnosed. He has a testable IQ of approximately 138, which is very high and his Myers-Briggs is INTP. He’s a little nerdy, and that’s about it. If you want to interview a truly crazy person I’m sure other members of Congress will be more to your liking,” said Kenzie, irritated, “now if you don’t mind, we’re going into that church and are not to be molested further.”
“Are you not campaigning, Congressman,” asked a reporter.
Before Rebecca could answer, Putnam said, “It’s the sabbath, the Lord God created a day of rest for reflection on the glory of His creation and I intend to do exactly that today, thank you.”
The religious service went by without a hitch, it was Lent and Putnam relatively didn’t mind Lent. He thought the season was acceptable and he always changed his mind on what to give up, he was a terrible singer, as was Kenzie, but they both always sang in church. The hymns moved Amadeus and gave him a feeling of inner peace, something he desperately needed.
While the Putnams were praising the Lord, Amanda Flemish was working hard ensuring that Amadeus would be having proper campaign staff. She had spent hours on the phone with the Leadership Institute, the Heritage Foundation, the ACU, and the Charles Koch Foundation among others. She also had managed to get ahold of a number of chapter presidents in the College Republicans. That last lead was often sporadic, college students were notorious for attrition. She recalled her days at Texas A&M trying to recruit other students to college republicans, when even those who did go to meetings wouldn’t want to do any work, preferring to go to football games or party with their sorority. Efforts on LinkedIn were generally useless, although she ensured the Facebook page continued to get some hits by ensuring stuff was posted almost daily. MySpace was still even being maintained, although the number of people using it had substantially decreased. Amanda was setting up field offices throughout the early states, she knew that Putnam had joined the race somewhat late. She was taking an insider poll as well. New Hampshire’s forecasts were solid, although other results seemed to vary. The amount of voters aware of Putnam were limited, although that was to be expected for a Congressman from New Hampshire outside his district. She was counting on a win in New Hampshire, was hopeful for a win in Wyoming and Maine, she felt Nevada would be competitive and hoped for a bounce from the New Hampshire showing, although it would be modest it being Putnam’s home state.
To do this, Amanda needed more liaisons to the press, however. Putnam was being picked up by C-SPAN and local papers, but a lot of politicians had easier times getting on TV. While the Putnam’s may have been taking a break, she certainly would not be.
Amadeus Putnam agreed to allow some of his activities to be a photo-op, notably at the Hoover Dam and he agreed to do a press release about some historical artifacts he bought at the World Famous Gold and Silver Pawn Shop, including a revolutionary war musket and a note from an union foot soldier in the Civil War.
That night, Amanda informed him he would be on Tucker on MSNBC Monday night and The Morning Joe on Tuesday morning and to appear on The O’Reilly Factor on Wednesday night. On Thursday she secured him an interview on Rush Limbaugh. He would be featured on Glenn Beck on CNN later that day. Putnam thanked her graciously and knew he had to do more TV appearances. She said the following week she would try to get him on Hardball, The Daily Show, and 60 Minutes.
He would be in South Carolina for two of those days before going to DC and then getting back to New Hampshire for the weekend.
Sunday, 13 March 2007
0930 Hours, Local
It ordinarily would have been any other sort of day for Amadeus Putnam on the campaign trail and he and Kenzie had promised themselves no days off until they were back in New Hampshire, but that day, they both agreed they needed it. It was not even a week into time on the campaign trail, but yesterday had ended poorly.
Las Vegas loved Amadeus. His libertarian positions and belief that victimless crimes should be decriminalized made a town known for sin and vice very excited and Nevada was also a great place to talk about his position on guns and leaving people alone. Unfortunately, visiting the Vegas strip last night was a bad idea. Amadeus’ sensory issues made the cacophony of noise and the bright flashed of light a nightmare for him and he had collapsed on his way back to the car after a rally. His comments on decriminalizing sex work and how prohibition had hurt too may members of the world’s oldest profession were dwarfed by his anxiety attack, that Amanda and her team were quickly trying to play off as simple clumsiness.
Amadeus had gotten to a Marriot well away from the Vegas strip and he was still in bed at 0930. Kenzie had ordered them both room service and the two had breakfast in bed. Amadeus’ western omlette and home fries were remarkably good, and his Earl Grey tea, which he always took black was just the right temperature and steeped until very bitter. They were both wearing the hotel bathrobes and were remarkably comfortable.
“Kenzie, I’m glad we’re taking a day off, I didn’t expect my issues to boil to the surface like that,” Amadeus said, “we’ve been working hard and everything compounded in that nightmarish world of clutter last night, there was a reason God created the sabbath.”
Kenzie kissed him on the forehead and said, “I know, and it would be nice to take a day for ourselves. No press, no camera, no speeches, no rallies. I think Amanda can handle it, right/ Also, all this travel in that small, cramped plane. Oh, and please don’t put the news on for my sake.”
“It’s an adventure,” said Amadeus, and it’s full of twists and turns, “we can’t always control what happens to us, only how we react.”
“Anyway, we should be tourists and maybe go for a walk, go horseback riding, or go see the Hoover Dam or see a show or a museum!” Kenzie was smiling, not the pasted-on politician kind, but a genuine and warm kind. The two decided they would go to Mass and plan out their day afterwards. They would be leaving for South Carolina in their small plane on a red-eye flight and a day of rest would be good for them both.
Amadeus called Amanda to arrange a car to take them to the nearest Catholic parish church. They were accompanied by a press secretary who would shield the couple for the day as they got some peace. Amadeus knew his fall was raising questions, he wasn’t going to let anyone know about his sensory issues nor his autism. He would rather people think he had a seizure or a heart attack than an anxiety attack from overstimulation. He was able to handle New York or DC or Boston with no trouble, but he simply had not mentally prepared himself for the Vegas strip. He decided he wasn’t wearing a suit that day and decided as a tourist he would be wearing a bowling shirt, khaki pants, his more comfortable dress shoes and top it off with a Stetson hat. Kenzie picked out a tasteful sundress and cowboy boots. A van was ready to pick them up along with press coordinator, a young woman named Rebecca Glenn from Tacoma, Washington.
A small press group was stalking the pair, while the cameras were to be expected, anyone who came to ask them questions were brushed off by Rebecca, “Congressman Putnam, did your trip yesterday indicate anything?”
“As you can see, Amadeus Putnam and his wife are capable of walking just fine. He simply tripped, something too many have done,” said Glenn capably.
“Is he having any health problems?” asked another reporter.
“Only migraines when he gets harassed on his way to Mass,” said Glenn sarcastically.
“Does Putnam have epilepsy?” asked third.
“The Congresswoman has never been diagnosed with epilepsy,” said Rebecca,
“I am a clinical psychologist and professor of psychology at Franklin Pierce University and have a doctorate in clinical psychology from Boston University, I will tell you this about my husband, he does not have any mental disorders with which he can be diagnosed. He has a testable IQ of approximately 138, which is very high and his Myers-Briggs is INTP. He’s a little nerdy, and that’s about it. If you want to interview a truly crazy person I’m sure other members of Congress will be more to your liking,” said Kenzie, irritated, “now if you don’t mind, we’re going into that church and are not to be molested further.”
“Are you not campaigning, Congressman,” asked a reporter.
Before Rebecca could answer, Putnam said, “It’s the sabbath, the Lord God created a day of rest for reflection on the glory of His creation and I intend to do exactly that today, thank you.”
The religious service went by without a hitch, it was Lent and Putnam relatively didn’t mind Lent. He thought the season was acceptable and he always changed his mind on what to give up, he was a terrible singer, as was Kenzie, but they both always sang in church. The hymns moved Amadeus and gave him a feeling of inner peace, something he desperately needed.
While the Putnams were praising the Lord, Amanda Flemish was working hard ensuring that Amadeus would be having proper campaign staff. She had spent hours on the phone with the Leadership Institute, the Heritage Foundation, the ACU, and the Charles Koch Foundation among others. She also had managed to get ahold of a number of chapter presidents in the College Republicans. That last lead was often sporadic, college students were notorious for attrition. She recalled her days at Texas A&M trying to recruit other students to college republicans, when even those who did go to meetings wouldn’t want to do any work, preferring to go to football games or party with their sorority. Efforts on LinkedIn were generally useless, although she ensured the Facebook page continued to get some hits by ensuring stuff was posted almost daily. MySpace was still even being maintained, although the number of people using it had substantially decreased. Amanda was setting up field offices throughout the early states, she knew that Putnam had joined the race somewhat late. She was taking an insider poll as well. New Hampshire’s forecasts were solid, although other results seemed to vary. The amount of voters aware of Putnam were limited, although that was to be expected for a Congressman from New Hampshire outside his district. She was counting on a win in New Hampshire, was hopeful for a win in Wyoming and Maine, she felt Nevada would be competitive and hoped for a bounce from the New Hampshire showing, although it would be modest it being Putnam’s home state.
To do this, Amanda needed more liaisons to the press, however. Putnam was being picked up by C-SPAN and local papers, but a lot of politicians had easier times getting on TV. While the Putnam’s may have been taking a break, she certainly would not be.
Amadeus Putnam agreed to allow some of his activities to be a photo-op, notably at the Hoover Dam and he agreed to do a press release about some historical artifacts he bought at the World Famous Gold and Silver Pawn Shop, including a revolutionary war musket and a note from an union foot soldier in the Civil War.
That night, Amanda informed him he would be on Tucker on MSNBC Monday night and The Morning Joe on Tuesday morning and to appear on The O’Reilly Factor on Wednesday night. On Thursday she secured him an interview on Rush Limbaugh. He would be featured on Glenn Beck on CNN later that day. Putnam thanked her graciously and knew he had to do more TV appearances. She said the following week she would try to get him on Hardball, The Daily Show, and 60 Minutes.
He would be in South Carolina for two of those days before going to DC and then getting back to New Hampshire for the weekend.
