He never did graduate from that cramped minivan to the longed-for campaign bus with the bells and whistles.
He didn't win a single state. Not his home state of Ohio. Not even his own congressional district.
He didn't find himself a wife. Doesn't want to discuss that whole love life thing right now.
Even so, US Representative Dennis J. Kucinich seemed quite chipper yesterday. And so did the men and women who worked on his campaign for the Democratic nomination, some of whom are among the 68 Kucinich delegates the former presidential candidate set free earlier this week. He urged them to follow their consciences during last night's state-by-state roll call giving US Senator John F. Kerry the party's nod.
Kucinich himself has made his peace with the man he disagreed with so vehemently, and on so many issues, on the campaign trail: He opposed the authorization of force in Iraq, and Kerry supported it, for example; he supports gay marriage, and Kerry opposes it.
"There are these differences of opinion, and they're fierce," he told Minnesota Democrats at a delegation breakfast in Cambridge yesterday morning. "What's new? We're Democrats. That's who we are . . . There comes a moment when you realize you're a family, and you close ranks . . . I am not particularly congenial to the Democratic Party platform, but it's a starting point, a starting point for discussion."
Kucinich has been doing the rounds of liberal groups, protests, and union meetings during this year's Democratic National Convention, trying to walk the line between incendiary radical and party loyalist. He has been urging that those on the party's left wing both maintain their ideals and embrace their only option. Kerry might not be quite gung-ho for the establishment of the Department of Peace that is central to Kucinich's platform, but the senator's election will give them at least a foot in the door, Kucinich has been saying.
There was a lot of love in the hotel function room when Kucinich walked in, arriving late, and with a small entourage that included "Six Feet Under" actor James Cromwell (a Kucinich friend and fellow vegan) in tow.
Kucinich won nine of Minnesota's 86 delegates in this year's primary, won by Kerry. Several of those delegates sported navy blue "Kucinich for President" T-shirts yesterday. When the congressman went to the podium, the delegation gave him a standing ovation, and some of them chanted "Peace now! Peace now! Peace now!"
"Indeed. Peace now," Kucinich said.
The congressman then let fly with his trademark antiwar, prolabor fire and brimstone, summoning a volume that seems impossible for a man with his small frame. His voice was too big for the room.
"Don't let anyone tell you there's no room for change in the Democratic Party," he told the group, which included former senator and presidential candidate Walter F. Mondale.
He spoke at the convention last night, and had said his speech would stress the importance of "courage in the Democratic Party."
Though he said he asked his delegates to support Kerry, Kucinich, 57, seemed quite pleased by the prospect that loyalty to him will make that impossible for some of them.
"The people who supported my campaign are very spirited," he told a group of reporters yesterday with an impish smile. "I am hoping that all of that spirit is going to be poured into helping John Kerry be the next president . But what they do at the convention? I learned a long time ago, especially with respect to my supporters, don't try to control them."
After the convention, Kucinich will campaign for Kerry, he said. After the election, he will probably return to being just one in 435 in Congress, returning to relatively private life after a year on the edges of the national spotlight.
As to the state of that private life, the congressman whose bachelorhood spawned a contest to find him a wife during the primary was mum yesterday. Asked whether he had found love, or whether he had had it all along and wasn't saying, he gave an enigmatic smile.
But there might have been a clue after a booming speech Kucinich gave at a meeting of about 20 steelworkers in a small room at the Hynes Convention Center later yesterday morning.
"Mr. Kucinich, I'm Polish, too!" said a middle-aged blonde woman, and the two exchanged a few words in Polish.
Then she threw her arms around his neck.
"Give me a kiss!" she said.
Kucinich obliged her.
Twice.![]()