In King, Kerry hears a soul mate
CEDAR RAPIDS, Iowa -- About 1,800 baby boomers crowded the Paramount Theater, a restored baroque movie house, on Tuesday night to watch Carole King add a new lyric to "You've Got a Friend," her enduring schmaltz classic.
"You just call out my name, John Kerry," crooned King, and the senator declared he felt goose bumps.
Kerry seemed far more genuinely starstruck swearing his fandom to King than to Moby, when the electronica star performed at a campaign fund-raiser in Boston last September. And Kerry, 60, embraced King, 61, as something more than a celebrity supporter: She's followed the same path as all of us, Kerry declared, "from civil rights to the Vietnam War to clean air . . . We even got Richard Nixon to sign the EPA, because we made it a voting issue."
His tribute to King, which followed an anecdote about meeting her at a party at a beach house in Massachusetts, may have given the unfortunate impression that the entire "Sixties Generation" could be corralled into a room to view Woodstock videos and recall peace marches.
Still, in a campaign that's seemed short of authentic moments, this one registered, because it brought home how Kerry is an emblematic figure of his generation. His path from war hero to war opposition symbolized his generation's sacrifices, its hard-earned experience.
Generational politics are on display all along the campaign trail. Younger voters seem drawn to former Vermont governor Howard Dean. Former House leader Richard A. Gephardt's events are filled with elderly admirers. Even his signature joke -- "I'm Dick, my wife's Jane, get used to it" -- is funny to those old enough to have been taught to read with Dick and Jane books.
But while other age groups are known primarily for their needs -- college tuition, prescription drug benefits -- Kerry's slice of the baby boom actually was known for its commitments. The movements Kerry described were real and, at one time, seemed destined to change the world.
The World War II generation, through seven presidencies, poured its political wisdom into the Cold War and an international fight for political freedom. But the baby boomers, still roiled by the '60s, haven't distilled their experiences into a single philosophy.
Bill Clinton, though far less representative of his generation than Kerry, appointed himself a figure of generational change, but his transformations were of lifestyle only: He furthered the idea, so alienating to those of other ages, that social change was only about self-gratification.
Now, amid talk of war and quagmires and responsibilities to the world, events may be calling up a nobler spirit of '60s idealism.
Carole King, who is spending two weeks on the campaign trail, is ready to answer the call. Kerry, too, seems to be feeling a surge of spirit. But for much of America, separating the true intentions of the '60s from its fringe movements remains a challenge, and it's an open question whether Kerry or anyone else can answer it.
Hope, promise, social gains -- it's all still there, but available only on oldies radio.
Peter Canellos can be reached at canellos@globe.com.
