Bantering for dad
Using sitcom-style chatter, Romney's five sons blog to boost his campaign
WASHINGTON -- The five toothy Romney boys -- Tagg, Matt, Josh, Ben, and Craig -- are so like the Osmonds that a reader of their "Five Brothers" blog might expect to learn about their perky sister Marie.
The Five Brothers blog, part of their father Mitt's presidential campaign, carries the same TV Land atmosphere of a 1970s show, including much of the bantering, sitcom-style dialogue that the Romneys use to warm up a crowd on the stump.
"Everyone in my family thinks they're funny, but few of them actually are," quips Tagg, the oldest, in a running joke on the blog that the Romneys also feature on the stump.
One might imagine that the boys -- who are all between 25 and 37, four of them with children of their own -- might be reluctant to share details of their lives for what is really just a campaign gimmick. But they all seem to have embraced the blogosphere wholeheartedly: New postings go up all the time, full of travel photos, gentle ribbing, and behind-the-scenes looks at some Very Romney holidays, like the recent birthday celebration for mom Ann at the family's New Hampshire vacation home.
The blog items themselves evoke episodes of "The Brady Bunch," in which the boys confront everyday dilemmas and resolve them with pluck and good humor.
Ben -- the self-described family oddball, who studies medicine and sometimes wears a beard -- worries about whether to call his dog, which is half Yorkshire terrier and half poodle, a Yorkie-poo.
Josh and Craig, who haven't done much serious bike riding, decide to join South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford's "fitness challenge," only to discover that what they thought was a flat 70-kilometer race is in fact a hilly 70 miles. After more cycling than they expected, the two handsome couch potatoes finish the race and resolve to be in better shape next year.
In another posting, Josh tries to buy a used Winnebago in which to visit all 99 counties in Iowa, home to the first presidential caucuses. Determined to get a bargain, he ends up traveling all the way to Phoenix for a suitable set of wheels.
Josh's Winnebago purchase, along with Ben's determination to keep up with his medical studies, are rare hints of real-world pressures on the Five Brothers, who spend huge amounts of time on the campaign trail with no evidence of strain on their marriages or finances.
What few signs of stress there are in the postings may be what keeps the Romneys' blog from descending into total self-parody. That's important, because, while it might seem like a trifle, the blog is actually at the heart of Romney's campaign strategy. He's emphasizing his close, happy family both to provide a contrast to some of his rivals who've had multiple marriages and to demystify his Mormon religion.
The Romneys tried this gambit once before, but with less subtlety and without the aid of cyberspace. In Mitt's 1994 Senate race against a career-rehabbing Ted Kennedy, fresh from Kennedy's Palm Beach humiliation, Romney tried to use his own loving marriage as a key point of contrast. But it all blew up when Ann, in a Globe interview, declared that she and Mitt had never had a serious argument. Suddenly, the Kennedys, with all their foibles, seemed closer to real life than the Romneys.
Already, parodies of the Five Brothers are appearing on the blogosphere. One intersperses the boys' introductions with made-up references to their lack of service in Iraq, as in "Ben is studying to be a doctor, but not one of those doctors who performs triage in Ramadi on soldiers with severe head trauma."
The boys must be aware that they're becoming the butt of jokes, but they keep up their cheerful postings, and seem to be attracting a lot of followers: Few people can resist the appeal of a large, close family, where everyone is protected and made to feel special.
That's what the Five Brothers are trying to do for their dad, and through all the contrived jokes and situations, their sincerity shines through.
"Wow. Dad was awesome tonight," enthused Tagg about his father's performance in a recent debate. At 37, he's trying -- and failing -- to sound like a giddy teen on MySpace.
But the effort is what counts. He's embarrassing himself out of love for his old man. And that seems to be the point of the whole enterprise.
Peter S. Canellos is the Globe's Washington bureau chief. National Perspective is his weekly analysis of events in the capital and beyond. 