Wisconsin Interest
Volume 19, No. 2
July, 2010

During Obey’s retirement speech, Ryan met with a Republican study committee, spent an hour with constituents in his office, and then caucused with Republican House leadership. At 4:15, he’s scheduled to conduct a live interview with MSNBC’s Dylan Ratigan.

I’m sitting on the stage with Ryan’s 25-year-old press secretary, Kevin Seifert, who has handed Ryan’s personal earpiece to the cameraman. Ryan supplies his own TV earpiece, as the ones the networks provide generally fall out mid-interview.

Without a second to spare, Ryan darts into the media room and sits down in front of the camera. Ratigan, the interviewer, is in the MSNBC studio – we can see the show as it progresses on one of the large televisions behind us. Ryan plugs his earpiece in and seems legitimately thrilled that Mötley Crüe is now playing in his left ear. With about ten seconds before the interview starts, he looks at Seifert and says – “what’s the topic?”

The topic happens to be the debt crisis in Greece, where government spending cuts have sparked deadly riots. He breezes through the interview. His appearance is flawless, although viewers with HDTVs can probably tell he’s developed the hint of a five o’clock shadow. His hair is perfect. (See the interview here.)

And oh, the hair! Some would consider it Ryan’s most recognizable feature. It is an astounding feat of modern architecture, with hairs taking off on one side of his head and landing safely on the other in perfect synchronicity. It often varies in length, but never lacks in durability.

Soon, the clock hits 6:15, and Ryan has to make his way to a conference of investment bankers at the Newseum, which is the print media’s new monument to its former glory. On the way out the door, Ryan looks at staffer Sarah Peer and growls about being hungry. “Do I get to eat?” he asks. “It’s not on the schedule,” she curtly replies.

Ryan drives himself, Seifert and me to the speech. We get to the Newseum and meet up with a group of the hosts, who show us to the sixth floor, where a packed conference room awaits.

Veteran politicians see crowds like this at hundreds of events. Different people each time, but in a way they all act the same. They hover, waiting for the right time to step in and shake Ryan’s hand. Finally, they get their 60 seconds to make an impression on one of politics’ rising stars – and then they’re gone, back to making small talk over stuffed mushrooms.

Neither Ryan nor his staff has prepared any talking points, but Ryan dazzles the financiers with honeyed pentameter about capitalism and free markets. After the speech, we dart back to the car. I ask Ryan how it is he can be “on” 24 hours a day? (When I meet new people, I usually want to take my shoe off and start hitting them with it.) He shrugs and says, “I don’t really have any alternative.”

We return to his office, and while we scarf down Thai noodles for the second straight night, I present him my theory on why “The Dark Knight,” the latest Batman movie, is essentially the story of his own tenure in Congress.  It’s about one vigilante fighting against a corrupt political machine for the betterment of the public, whether or not the public knows it, or even wants it.  The movie ends with Commissioner Gordon noting that Batman isn’t “the hero we want, but the hero we need.” 

Ryan immediately begins systematically dismantling my argument, finishing by noting that Batman ended up the movie as the bad guy.  I fully expected him to pull out a Congressional Budget Office chart comparing his budget deficit reduction plan to that of the caped crusader.  I immediately regret bringing Batman up. 

After he finishes eating, Ryan sighs.  It’s time to start another telephone town hall meeting, this time with the people of Racine County.  He cracks a can of Miller Lite, ambles over to his desk, and slides his headset on.  His computer screen lights up.

“Good evening, this is Congressman Paul Ryan…”

Forty years ago, on the day Paul Ryan was born, the Janesville Gazette ran a cartoon mocking President Nixon’s handling of the economy. The cartoon shows Nixon in the passenger seat of a car dangling perilously off the side of a mountain, while telling the driver “now, put it in first gear and go ahead very slowly…”

Four decades later, Paul Ryan is facing the same predicament. He earnestly believes he has a plan to get America’s economy off that cliff and back on the road to prosperity. All that’s left to be settled is whether he will try to bring that change from a seat in Congress or from the Oval Office in the White House.

While we eat our second straight night of Thai food, the discussion turns to Ryan’s fans continually demanding he run for president. I recount Act I, Scene II of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar – in which Caesar refuses the crown three times before his adoring fans force him to accept it.

Ryan smiles, pauses, and says, “And how’d that work out for him?”

 

 

 

Christian Schneider is a senior fellow at the Wisconsin Policy Research Institute. He can be reached here via e-mail or on Twitter at @cmschneid19.

 

 

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