Skip to main contentPhil Busse walks out of the Fresh Pot on North Mississippi Avenue late one afternoon, and a young woman stops him.
She doesn't want to talk about police accountability. Or biodiesel buses. Or any of the 100 other issues addressed on the little blue manifesto Busse hands out as he campaigns for mayor. She wants his number.
Judging by his blush, this isn't exactly what the 34-year-old journalist-turned-candidate had in mind when he set out to reach younger voters. But it's kind of a fun moment. And the Busse campaign is nothing if not fun.
Nightclub circuses, bowling nights, neighborhood movie parties, a giant penguin suit--Jim Francesconi may be hogging the campaign cash, but Busse is monopolizing the good times. The Portland Mercury managing editor's mayoral bid is almost too jolly for its own good.
"The other night, someone said, 'Look, I'm trying to decide between you and Tom Potter,'" says Busse. "'And my only problem with you is, you seem flippant.' And that's an appropriate concern. But what sticks with me is that people are impressed that we're having fun, and that we have serious issues to talk about."
Is a giant penguin suit the new secret weapon of Portland politics? Only the ballot box knows for sure. What is certain is that Busse, a former lawyer who coaches rowing teams in addition to writing for the weekly Mercury, is spicing up a race otherwise dominated by middle-of-the-road campaigns.
Many dismissed Busse as a stunt candidate when he announced his run last summer. First, there was the paradox of a journalist--Busse (rhymes with "fussy") frequently blasts city policy in the Merc--covering City Hall while trying to take it over. Then, there was his employment at a newspaper enamored with goofus gimmicks and satire as subtle as blunt trauma.
"I've played the straight guy at the newspaper," Busse says. "I think one of the goals of the paper, and our campaign, is to engage a demographic. Can I be serious when working for a naughty newspaper? Of course."
Busse acknowledges his original intent was simply to draw attention to a slumbering race. But as the campaign wore on, Busse's accessible style and bright-eyed, optimistic progressivism (leavened with fiscal belt-tightening) struck a chord. His events have drawn hundreds of people and helped him collect about $6,000 in contributions. His campaign's recruited a half-dozen volunteer staffers. And by soliciting ideas from just about everyone he meets, he's drummed up a platform far more wide-ranging than the perceived frontrunners' (see also cover story, page 16).
Busse's shopping 100 ideas he vows to launch in his first 100 days as mayor. He wants better citizen oversight of the cops, and the mayor's chauffeur canned. He promises to give away $100 of his salary a day to local nonprofits. Environmental, educational and social initiatives fill out the list.
The list serves Busse's master strategy: firing up the thousands of Portlanders who may be politically aware but feel little connection to local politics' carousel of insiders. His campaign targets 25 distinct, vital Portland subcultures--strippers, motorcyclists, musicians, dog owners, etc.--Busse thinks are getting short shrift.
"Is the guitarist in a punk band going to be engaged in a conversation about affordable housing?" Busse says. "Maybe not. But when it's translated to, 'This is what's going to allow you to continue your music career,' maybe he or she does get interested."
Failing all else, Busse has established one thing: Francesconi and Potter should both be required to wear a penguin suit until Primary Tuesday.
Find Busse's 100-point platform at www.meformayor.com
WWeek 2015