Mihos contrasts with Democrats

Last night's debate was a Bach minuet, with Christy Mihos on the country fiddle.

The topic was high-minded: ''Jobs, the Economy, and the Cost of Living." The setting was imposing: The John F. Kennedy School of Government at Harvard University. The questions from the panel of journalists never strayed from the issues.

The three Democrats -- Christopher Gabrieli, Deval L. Patrick, and Thomas F. Reilly -- might have been professors descended from offices upstairs. With genial formality, they offered up multitiered explanations of how they would provide incentives to spur housing development, funding for mass transit, and a better climate for business expansion.

And then there was Christy Mihos. Convenience store magnate. Heavy Brockton accent. Regular, if slightly quirky, guy.

''Mr. Mihos," NECN's Alison King began.

''Christy," the Republican-turned-Independent insisted, with a wide smile.

The first live televised face-off between the four men who want to be governor -- Republican Kerry Healey declined to participate -- had an eat-your-spinach earnestness to it. The Democrats, with occasional departures, stressed the same themes: The next governor needs to recruit businesses to the state, create affordable housing, uphold educational standards.

Mihos's unaffected air and populist positions only underscored the restraint of the Democrats, who head to their nominating convention next week, conscious that they are being closely watched by delegates who will decide which of them to endorse and whether the others make the ballot.

The candidates sat in a tight row on the crowded stage, hemmed in by an audience of intent-looking Harvard students, Cambridge citizens, and campaign supporters.

The attorney general appeared utterly still, a thin grin frozen on his face. Patrick slumped slightly, gesturing lightly with his hands. Gabrieli, who towered above the others even while sitting down, gestured eagerly as he spoke. Mihos looked as if he were waiting for a roller-coaster ride to begin: He sat absolutely straight, legs wide open, clasping the arms of his chair, grinning hugely.

Reilly emphasized his experience in government, saying it could help him work with large federal agencies. Patrick referred to his work at multinational corporations like Coca-Cola, where he learned how a streamlined government approval process could encourage business expansion. Gabrieli harked back to his days in venture capital, explaining how he wanted to lure biotech companies to cities around the state.

Mihos declared that his convenience stores give him ''a worm's eye view of what's happening in the Commonwealth." He said his customers are straining to pay for gas and other essentials, then buying Lottery tickets in the evening in hope they can pay all their bills someday.

The candidates hardly threw a punch, except at the Romney administration. (Mihos cheerfully joined in, though he defended the governor's approach to handling the flood.) Instead, the three Democrats had polished answers for every question at the ready, rarely missing a beat.

What would Chris Gabrieli do to create jobs?

''Well, I do feel I have some relevant background in this area, having started my own company from scratch, built it into a sizable company with my partners, helped other people start literally hundreds of companies," he said.

What would Deval Patrick do to encourage construction of more housing?

''The Legislature just yesterday took some steps to streamline regulation," he said. ''. . . But we also need to enable cities and towns to deal with the impact of those new families on their communities by increasing local aid . . . and on the infrastructure generally."

What would Tom Reilly cut to pay for a tax cut?

''We have extra revenues, and the next governor will have at least $800 million in excess revenues, $500 million after the tax rebate," he said.

By contrast, Mihos's responses sometimes didn't quite come together. Asked whether it was unfair of him to call for freezing property tax assessments, since it would result in heavier tax burdens for young people, he said bluntly, ''No." Then there was silence. Then warm laughter. So he elaborated a bit.

Mihos got the least air time of the four, speaking for just over eight minutes, compared with the most verbose, Patrick, who spoke for almost 11. And at the end, Mihos did what politicians seldom do: He ran out of things to say.

As the hour ended, moderator R.D. Sahl told him to wrap it up.

Mihos froze for what felt like several seconds, looking at the camera. Then he said, ''Thanks again." And smiled some more.