America's Oregon's Next Top Model Governor

The declared and might-be candidates are polishing their acts, refining their messages, and bitching about their opponents.

All the jockeying is exciting, because right now it's anybody's race: There are at least eight and perhaps as many as 10 legitimate candidates who believe they have what it takes to win the top prize.

Why are there so many pretenders to the throne?

First, at this stage of the election, talk is cheap. Nobody will spend any real money until next year, and there's no better way to increase your name familiarity for whatever purpose than to claim you are thinking about running for guv. Second, former Gov. Neil Goldschmidt's downfall last year created a power vacuum, and after the longest—and perhaps least productive—legislative session in Oregon history, many pols believe there's room at the top.

But the biggest attraction may be the dimmer-than-dismal performance of incumbent Ted Kulongoski, who has squandered a reservoir of goodwill and left even his traditional allies looking for alternatives. "Oregonians are frustrated with him but don't have a clear other direction to go," says Pacific University political science professor Jim Moore.

Despite the powers of incumbency and a revved-up economy, Kulongoski's support is supermodel-thin, and his appetite for re-election appears to be nothing short of anorexic. He has yet to officially announce he'll run, has not hired a campaign manager, and has never even bothered to replace his two top political advisers, Peter Bragdon and Steve Schneider, both of whom left his staff long ago.

Between the governor's torpor and the lack of a clear frontrunner among the crowded field of contestants—er, candidates—next year will undoubtedly feature more tears, abominable behavior and character assassination than any 10 episodes of Top Model.

To give a preview of what promises to be the most interesting statewide show of 2006, here is a different sort of political program—a viewer's guide to the race to be Oregon's next governor. [event]

^#1 the Talk

How will the candidates showcase themselves on the runway?

Kulongoski will tout his résumé—he's been a legislator, state attorney general, Oregon Supreme Court judge—and his compelling personal story: The former Marine grew up in an orphanage, worked in a steel mill and put himself through school on the GI Bill. He'll also point to Oregon's resurgent economy, which is adding jobs and reducing hunger just in time for his re-election bid.

Vicki Walker , the only woman in the field, will remind voters she is the champion of the underdog. A victim of childhood sexual abuse, Walker will point to her hammering of sacred cows, such as state-owned workers'-comp agency SAIF Corp., ex-Gov. Neil Goldschmidt and the utilities. She vows to toss out the good ol' boys, a prospect many welcome. "She's got a lot of guts, and she keys in on important issues," says Jim Pasero, co-managing editor of the conservative monthly magazine BrainstormNW.

Kevin Mannix will remind voters that he is Oregon's premier crime fighter (he was a chief backer of Measure 11, which in 1994 imposed mandatory minimum sentences for violent felonies). He'll also work his rural base with references to traditional values—his website talks a lot about buckskinned pioneers. And his Irish charisma, wit and ready smile will enliven many a campaign event. "He's got a lot of charm," says Democratic activist Steve Novick.

Ron Saxton , third-place finisher in the 2002 Republican primary, has the most delicate runway to walk. He'll tilt right to convince skeptical hard-liners he is conservative enough, but he'll sashay to the middle to attract female and urban voters. He'll also wear his fundraising prowess—$750,000 to date, far more than any other candidate—like a strapless gown, intended to lure those who doubt he has the chops to win. So far, he's making a good case. "I think Kevin should be worried," says Democratic political strategist Mark Wiener.

^#3 Makeup Department

A big part of winning any beauty contest is covering up blemishes and combing over bald spots. Each candidate possesses at least one flaw that could, if not properly camouflaged, leave him or her competing for the "Miss Congeniality Award."

Mannix remains mired in campaign debt from four years ago: $463,000 as of the last filing in September. That's problematic for a self-proclaimed fiscal conservative. He's also a perennial bridesmaid, having lost three statewide races in the past decade (two for attorney general and one for governor). More recently, he led the state Republican Party to a string of setbacks. His biggest—some might say only—achievement as chairman was convincing Tom Cox to come over from the Libertarian Party. (In 2002, Cox got more votes than the margin between Kulongoski and Mannix.)

Kulongoski will have to mend fences with union members, particularly at SEIU, whose members feel he betrayed them with pay freezes and benefit cuts. AFL-CIO boss Tim Nesbitt, who virtually dragged Kulongoski over the finish line in 2002, recently resigned from his union post and won't help this time. The governor will also have to explain again and again his relationship to the disgraced Goldschmidt, who rescued Kulongoski's political career in 1987 and helped him win subsequent elections.

Sorenson has failed to make a dent outside Eugene, despite campaigning since January. Even in his hometown, he must compete for attention with Walker and the whispers about whether U.S. Rep. Peter DeFazio will enter the race if Kulongoski bows out.

While Saxton put himself on the map in 2002 by pounding away at problems with the Public Employees Retirement System, he took that jihad too far in a May op-ed in BrainstormNW. His proposal: terminating public employees and then rehiring them under a reconstituted, less expensive system. Unions only read the "termination" part and will oppose Saxton far more vigorously than any other candidate.

^#4 the Shwag

The 2006 primaries will get ugly early. Expect candidates in both parties to play the Goldschmidt card against Kulongoski and Saxton, and to engage in a group cat fight. Here are some slogans, campaign buttons and bumper stickers voters could see:

^#5 candid camera

Rather than depending entirely on the views of political insiders to do our judging, we asked our contestants to reveal themselves through their regrets and mistakes.

To read the full version of answers they submitted to our questionnaires, please visit www.wweek.com/story.php?story=6960, where you can also learn their high-school nicknames—and which candidate once outraced Steve Prefontaine.

Kulongoski says his worst habit is reading WW (he probably starts from the back).

Sorenson claims his biggest shortcoming is saying "um" too much.

Mannix says his worst habit is eating Snickers bars—but he's not stopping.

Westlund says his wife and friends want him to stop chewing Nicorette gum.

Walker concedes that nobody knows who she is.

Saxton 's greatest regret is that he can't dunk a basketball.

Atkinson admits he slouches and wishes he'd never told a Senate colleague he shaves his legs before cycling.

Metsger wishes he could change his propensity for choosing junk food over exercise.

^#6 the Talent Show

Campaigning is stressful, so we asked contestants what they'd sing while unwinding in a karaoke bar—and what drink they'd have in their hands.

Kulongoski Would sing "Start Me Up" by the Rolling Stones while quaffing an Oregon beer.

Sorenson Would croon a "Robert Goulet-like" rendition of "Born Free" while slurping a mojito.

Mannix Would sip Jack Daniel's on the rocks while crooning the Police's "Every Breath You Take."

For Westlund , who says he quit drinking more than 20 years ago, a Roy Rogers—light on the grenadine, no cherry—and the Who's "Won't Get Fooled Again."

Walker A Dylanesque "The Times They Are A-Changin,'" washed down by a pinot noir.

Saxton A root-beer float and Sinatra's "High Hopes," although he says he'd rather play it on his saxophone than sing.

Atkinson would sing the Black Crowes' version of "Hard to Handle" while sipping a "ballistic vanilla latte."

Metsger says he'd prefer to listen to former Enron CEO Ken Lay sing "I Fought the Law and the Law Won," while he sips pinot noir.

^#7 the agency

Nobody walks down the runway without a lot of prep work. Often, it's the people lurking behind the curtains who make the difference. Here are some of the agents, strategists and key supporters standing in the wings.

Atkinson scored the race's biggest recent coup by winning the support of the state's leading conservative yakker, KXL's Lars Larson. Larson broadcasts daily on 17 stations statewide and will hurt Mannix with the Republicans' conservative base (Mannix earlier committed the unpardonable sin of dissing Larson in print). Biggest supporter: real-estate broker Jim Frick from Cave Junction, $1,000.

Saxton appeals most strongly to business leaders. He'll get strategic help from former law partner Steve Wynne. On the money front, former ambassador to New Zealand Butch Swindells and Rod Wendt, scion of the Jeld-Wen fortune, will make things happen. Also on board: influential tax-buster Don McIntire. "Ron really articulates a clear vision of limited government," McIntire says. "He's much more impressive this time around." Biggest supporter: retired Willamette Industries CEO Bill Swindells, who kicked in $100,000.

Kulongoski 's team at this point consists of former chief of staff Peter Bragdon, now at Columbia Sportswear, and pollster Lisa Grove. Although union support is tepid, overall, AFSCME is happy with its recent corrections-guard contract and the building trades love the casino he has OK'd for Cascade Locks. Trial lawyers will chip in, too. Biggest backer: Eugene heavy-equipment dealer Randy Pape, $25,000.

Mannix lured former Republican gubernatorial candidate Jack Roberts, a respected moderate, although Roberts' own Supreme Court run will probably limit his role. Also helping: former Senate presidents Brady Adams and Gene Derfler, and state Rep. Derrick Kitts (R-Hillsboro). Biggest contribution: a $200,000 pledge from Paul Drago, an obscure businessman who hasn't yet delivered. Mannix's longtime sugar daddy, Loren Parks, has moved to Nevada but may ante up again.

Walker 's machine is small, consisting of Seattle strategist Michael Grossman and Walker's daughter, Sara, who is her campaign manager. Consumer advocates love her, as do Oregonian columnist Steve Duin, blogger Jack Bogdanski and the workers'-comp insurer Liberty Northwest, whose battle against SAIF she joined. Biggest check: $5,000 from Karen Brady, a physical therapist.

The most influential people in Westlund 's universe may be the Oregonian editorial board, which urged him to run in August, and those voters in his district who are threatening a recall for his pro-gay-rights stance and willingness to consider raising taxes.

Metsger 's exploratory campaign, which thus far has the urgency of a child ordered to eat lima beans, is in the hands of Democratic operative Leanne Littrell DiLorenzo, wife of über-Republican lawyer John "the Don" DiLorenzo.

Sorenson has the backing of former congressman Jim Weaver of Eugene, but not much else.

The groundswell behind ex-guv John Kitzhaber ? So far, not much besides a few underemployed former staffers pining for the glory days. "He's not going to run," Wiener says.

^and the winner is...

...undecided!

At least that's what pollster Mike Riley found in the data he released last week. A statewide survey completed Oct. 18-25 found that 53 percent of Republicans don't know who they'll vote for. Among Democrats, Kulongoski (who hasn't announced) is tied with Kitzhaber (who isn't a candidate), but neither one of them—or anybody else—is wowing the electorate. "What you have is Ted and the Seven Dwarfs," says Pacific University's Moore.

Let the beauty contest begin.

News intern Max Muller contributed to this article.