In today’s Richmond Times Dispatch, columnist A. Barton Hinkle writes about the nasty tone of the governor’s race. Kilgore’s campaign fired the first volley with their counterfeit Kaine memo, then Kaine’s campaign responded with the Jerry the Duck website. The Kilgore campaign, not wanting to respond to that website, instead got upset about a relatively mundane Kaine radio ad, with their frustration totally out of scale with the perceived sleight. Hinkle devotes a few grafs to the matter of Kilgore’s voice, writing:
[T]he question of Kilgore’s accent is a freighted one. Regarding it most political players know, but few say, the obvious. Here’s how one Virginia blogger stated it: “He sounds . . . well . . . gay. Perhaps a less controversial word to use would be ‘effeminate.’ His speech pattern is stereotypically that of an effeminate gay man, and there’s really no getting around it.”
When people talk about Kilgore’s accent, they mean more than the Southwest Virginia twang. Plenty of successful politicians have had a good-ol’-boy accent: Fred Thompson, Fritz Hollings, and — oh, Ann Richards — come to mind. But none of them sounds like “Ned Flanders meets Mr. Rogers,” as the Staunton Daily News Leader characterized Kilgore in December. Kilgore’s accent wouldn’t be an issue at all if he sounded more baritone.
(Astute readers will notice that I am “one Virginia blogger.”) Naturally, I agree with Hinkle — anybody who has heard Kilgore speak will, likewise, say that it’s an “obvious” liability, and “it” ain’t his twang.
It’s all a bit silly thus far, like in the early stages of a street fight between two guys goaded on more by the crowd and less by any genuine animosity — give it a little longer and they’ll be out for blood.
As I’ve said before, I’d certainly prefer a clean, issues-oriented campaign, but I’m just not that naive. I had high hopes, and intended to help to shape just such a race (to the very, very limited degree to which I can do anything about it) until early December, when the Kilgore campaign hired Scott Howell.
Imagine said street fight, only you’re in it, and you’ve already spotted a) that the other guy is holding a open switchblade behind his back and b) he’s already got a broken wrist. Why wait to be sliced? Twist that arm.