Political odd-fellows

By J. Patrick Coolican

Thursday, May 4, 2006 | 7:30 a.m.

Lt. Gov. Lorraine Hunt is a former lounge singer who once sang "Getting to Know You" while on a trade mission in China. Her predecessor wore a red leather jacket emblazoned with "Lonnie Hammargren, Neurosurgeon," and once had a body double go to a public event in his stead.

So perhaps Nevadans shouldn't be surprised that the lieutenant governor's race turned fun and a bit funky Monday with the entrance of Bob Stupak, who built the Stratosphere and is now a regular in the poker room at the Bellagio. He's running as a Democrat.

Then there's Janet Moncrief, Stupak's ex-girlfriend and the only Las Vegas City Council member ever recalled, running as a Republican.

Historians, political consultants and analysts aren't surprised. Because of its small size, relatively cheap media markets, colorful characters and a strong maverick streak, Nevada politics has always been blessed with a fair share of oddballs, rich eccentrics and sideshow long shots.

However, as the state grows and becomes more economically and politically sophisticated, voters' tolerance for charming amateurishness may be waning, experts say.

For now, though, "We're a cheap date," says Peter Ernaut, a Republican consultant and a principal of R&R Partners, referring to the state's inexpensive media markets. Las Vegas, although growing, is the 48th largest TV market, according to Nielsen Media Research.

"What other state can you make a huge splash and get on TV for less than a million dollars?" Ernaut says.

As it happens, Stupak says he's willing to spend $1 million of his own on the campaign. To prove it, he included a copy of a check for that amount in his announcement. The press release also included photos of Stupak with a number of local and national celebrities. Some are alive, such as Andre Agassi, and more than a few dead - President Ronald Reagan and Rodney Dangerfield. The photos should "not be considered endorsements," the release noted, helpfully.

Analysts regard Stupak's commitment skeptically. "In this case, it's too early to tell whether it's serious or kind of a joyride," says Greg Ferraro, a Republican consultant and lobbyist based in Reno. "Others have speculated that it's not to be taken seriously."

Calling from a phone at the Bellagio on Tuesday morning, Stupak scoffed at doubters: "People doubted I'd bet a million dollars on the 1989 Super Bowl." He won. "They doubted me on Vegas World," he said of his first casino. "They doubted me on the Stratosphere."

Stupak previously lost elections for Las Vegas mayor and Clark County commissioner.

David Damore, a UNLV political science professor, says there are a lot of characters in Nevada. The state's wide-open economy and culture tend to draw some of the country's more flamboyant folks - risk takers who aren't afraid to embarrass themselves. Few people move to Nevada without at least some tolerance for the strange.

Witness Las Vegas Mayor Oscar Goodman, former mob lawyer and admitted tippler.

Michael Green, a Nevada historian at the Community College of Southern Nevada, has an impressive list of off-beat candidates. James Ray Houston ran for governor in 1974, promising to make silver the state's official currency, or something.

There's the man who changed his name to God Almighty and ran against Sen. Harry Reid in 1992.

And then there's Aaron Russo, Bette Midler's former manager and boyfriend. He produced Eddie Murphy's "Trading Places," among other films, and ran for governor in 1998.

"Not to compare Houston and Stupak, but candidates from left field, right field or center field tend to have a shot here in Nevada," Green says, adding that Nevada isn't the only state with zany candidates. One need only look at the 2003 California recall election, in which Arnold Schwarzenegger, the former bodybuilder from Austria, beat former child star Gary Coleman and a porn actress, among many others.

Still, Nevada has a history of company-town politics, Green says - a politics dominated first by mining and then by gambling interests, in which the powers-that-be get together and anoint a candidate. Sun columnist and political commentator Jon Ralston wrote a book about Gov. Kenny Guinn's 1998 race, for instance, called "The Anointed One."

"Then you get the tendency to have people who say, 'I'm going to take that on,' " Green says of such power politics.

That's exactly what's motivating Moncrief, she says: "When the people realize why I was taken out of office, because I beat the system, and the system was mad."

The registered nurse was recalled last year after being indicted for campaign finance violations.

She and Stupak haven't spoken in about 18 months, although they've had cordial chance encounters, she says. "I can't wait to debate him in the general election."

The mainstream candidates in the lieutenant governor's race, developer and Democrat Bob Unger and Republican state Treasurer Brian Krolicki, should go negative, turning their new opponents' name recognition against them, says Billy Rogers, a Las Vegas political consultant who has advised Republicans and Democrats.

"When you're running against a famous name, you've got to let voters know who they are. Otherwise, if they see a famous name, especially in a down-ballot race, the name can get some votes," he says.

Rogers cut his teeth in Texas politics, another state where eccentrics and gimmicks are common. He once advised a candidate running against a man who shared a name with the respected MD Anderson Cancer Center, though he had no affiliation with it. "Our task," he says, "was to let people know he wasn't a hospital, but a guy who owned a bar and showed pornographic movies after hours."

As Nevada grows and becomes more complex, there's less tolerance among voters for people who are true characters, says Gary Gray, a Las Vegas Democratic consultant.

"Once you move out of being a rough-and-tumble mining state to a sophisticated Southwestern state, people expect their public officials to behave in certain ways," Gray says. "The electorate is looking for more professionalism, for people who can bring forward a solid agenda."

Don't tell that to Stupak. He'll be renting a private plane and throwing a party in every county and city in the state. Such actions recall the late Sen. Pat McCarran, famous for campaigning by slapping $100 on the bar and telling the bartender to let him know when it was spent.

Stupak, who named his son Nevada (who twice ran and lost for Las Vegas City Council), says he has no knowledge of or interest in issues such as education, the environment or the state budget. Instead, he'll promote the state and its tourism and economy.

And those other issues?

"Probably out of my realm of expertise," he says.