New York Times - October 20, 2004
OUR TOWNS On the Campaign Trail, With Trail Mix By PETER APPLEBOME
U nion City, N.J. - WE'RE just following the traditions of our forefathers,'' said Paul Gilman yesterday as he brandished a copy of the United States Constitution under the inflated green alien hanging from the dome light in Ralph Nader Corporate Crime Fighting Unit No. 4.
"And our foremothers,'' corrected his partner, Don Hickok.
"Right, our forefathers and our foremothers, and since this is New Jersey, it's in the spirit of Molly Hatchet, err, Molly Pitcher,'' Mr. Gilman said, substituting the revolutionary heroine for the Southern rock band. "Sorry. I'm a metalhead."
"Well, let's go find a McDeath,'' Mr. Hickok said, and with that, their white Chevy van, filled with leaflets, books, blankets, lawn chairs and provisions of trail mix, water, green apples, garlic (for its natural antibiotic qualities) and Pringles potato chips (eeek! their one vice) headed toward Kennedy Boulevard in search of a McDonald's where they could fight the good fight for Ralph.
Most of Mr. Nader's prominent supporters from the 2000 presidential race have deserted him or begged him not to run again, saying his legacy could be eight years of George W. Bush. His Green Party running mate in 2000, Winona LaDuke, has endorsed John Kerry. Garrison Keillor described Mr. Nader over the weekend as "an air bag without a car attached to it.''
But for the Nader faithful, life goes on, in an orbit totally divorced, it seems, from the Bush-Kerry tractor pull. No one knows for sure how big an impact he will have on the election. But if Mr. Hickok, 39, Mr. Gilman, 44, and the other Nader supporters in New Jersey are any indication, few are likely to change their minds in the next two weeks.
"You seem to be under the impression that Ralph can't win; I'm not,'' said Mr. Hickok, an amiable musician from Goshen, N.Y., with a billy goat beard. He was wearing a straw hat and a T-shirt reading "Spoiler" on the front and "Revolutionaries Always Spoil Corrupt Systems" on the back. "The others are like two heads of the same monster."
Mr. Nader's supporters in New Jersey tend toward being longtime Greens or third-party adherents like Mr. Hickok and Mr. Gilman. Steven Welzer, who works for the state, fondly remembers his votes for Socialist Workers Party candidates in the 1970's. Gary Novosielski, a high school physics teacher in Fort Lee, gives Mr. Bush an F-minus as president but says he refuses to cast a merely "strategic" vote for Mr. Kerry. Or they're the pumped-up young - like Joe Bonacci, 22, a recent graduate of Caldwell College - many of whom see a Nader vote as like an out-there version of political extreme sports.
The mission of Mr. Gilman and Mr. Hickok, who are paid $400 a week by the Nader campaign, was to hand out leaflets at McDonald's restaurants as part of an international anti-McDonald's weekend of activities. The two men, both not-quite-vegan vegetarians, drove around for a half-hour before they finally found one in Union City. They parked and sauntered in with leaflets for employees reading: "Number of Big Macs you can buy with one hour's salary: 2-3. Number of Big Macs your C.E.O., Charlie H. Bell, can buy with one hour's salary: 690."
Mr. Hickok began talking up Mr. Nader with a customer, Michelle De Acutis, who described herself as a Bush supporter ("I like a tough man for America") who always backs Democrats because they represent the party of the people. Told that the president was a Republican, she was stunned. She and Mr. Hickok then got tangled in a discussion of some of the ancillary elements of the Nader platform, including his opposition to the death penalty. "You kill someone, your butt should fry," she said.
Finally, the befuddled store managers, who spoke mostly Spanish, asked the Nader workers to leave, and they began driving around in another drawn-out search for another McDonald's. By day's end, they had hit two others and leafleted in the Little India section of Jersey City.
Mr. Hickok has been on the road since late August. His first partner was an amputee who had to quit traveling with him when his artificial leg malfunctioned. Mr. Gilman, who wears a yin-yang stone around his neck, has been with him for two weeks.
They share their vegetarian dining, dedication about seat-belt wearing, pet causes like Cures-Not-Wars (which favors a more liberal marijuana policy) and opposition to the School of the Americas, accused of aiding repressive Latin American regimes. None of it seems to have much in common with the rhetorical megatonnage of the campaign, but they wouldn't have it any other way.
"It's almost like being in the service, or the way you made such great friends back when you were in school,'' Mr. Hickok said. "I've met such wonderful, compassionate people, who care about people, the earth, animals, the planet. It brings tears to my eyes to think about it.''