E-mail From The Floor

Subject: Finally, Some Enthusiasm

Jack Kemp's speech from the Kansas prairie this morning made network news' hearts flutter (yes, there are a few in network news with hearts, but it is not a common affliction).

Kemp spoke beyond the sound bite length mandated by convention organizers for this programmed-for-TV convention. I mean Lincoln at Gettysburg would be cut to 1:30 plus anchor introduction and considerable grousing that old Abe was going over the top on this "for the people" stuff.

It's not that Kemp's speech was bad, as political speeches go. In fact, it contained some of the first real enthusiasm we have heard around the Dole-drums. Many of the pros were relieved that Kemp did not get off on his and your favorite topic, returning to the gold standard. This particular speech has been known to put whole armies to sleep at the height of battle. Kemp, by the way, is highly popular among the Washington, D.C., press crowd because he is lively company, has a ready wit and understands how the beltway set thinks, meaning he knows as much about them as they do about him.

I watched the Kemp announcement from the CNN anchor booth standing next to Sen. John McCain and his wife, Cindy. McCain has a basic problem in politics; he is a very decent fellow who is also smart. And, sadly, he is a practicing gentleman. The senator said all the right things in the interview, but watching him watching Kemp, it all seemed a bit sad. McCain was a serious member of the short list being considered by his friend, Bob Dole. Cindy McCain, a lively lady with wit and beauty, said she sighed with relief that she would not have to subject the family to the tortures of the campaign.

Still, as she watched, one had to project her projecting her husband and herself up on that stand in Russell, Kan. A small moment as the Kemp family was anointed.

Informatively, as we say in newsroom memos, the entire set of Russell was shipped in from a traveling road show of "The Music Man" playing in nearby Kansas City. Tonight, after all the press leaves, Russell returns to its normal appearance, a suburban sprawl with all the street names from a Charles Dickens novel.