Boos ring out at dinner where candidates are always nice

Looking for some relief from this ugliest of all presidential contests, I decided to write about how kind the candidates were at the always benign Al Smith dinner. Then I watched it. 

The dinner is normally a welcome, relaxing diversion at the end of the campaign. The candidates appear together, tell a couple of good jokes, say nice things about the opponent’s family and pledge to work together for the good of the nation, come what may. It’s always good to see harried presidential campaigners exhibiting that rarest quality, self-deprecation.

But Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton couldn’t even manage that. 

Trump, speaking first, told a couple of jokes, but not before reminding the audience of mainly New York Catholics that, like Jesus, he had been a “carpenter working for his father” before offering himself as the remaker of American greatness. 

He told one funny joke, feigning anger over media bias when the press praised a Michelle Obama speech, then criticized his spouse for making the same speech at the GOP Convention. His spouse gave a good imitation of smiling.

But then he turned to Clinton deprecation, accusing his opponent of “pretending not to hate Catholics” and drawing boos for departing so meanly from a tradition of good fun and fellowship. These were the first boos ever at an event devoted to Christian charity, another Trump triumph.

Handed a generous gift by her opponent, all Clinton needed to do was be nice, compliment her hosts, praise their good works, make a mild joke or two about the campaign and give her regards to the Trump family. But she stuck to the script, and even her less severe shots at her opponent seemed harsh after the pall that had been cast over the proceedings by Trump. 

One of Trump’s better comments accused Clinton of getting his jokes in advance, a reference to a WikiLeaks charge she received a CNN question before a town meeting. And, as if to prove the point, one of her better jokes was, in fact, borrowed — or stolen, if you prefer — from John F. Kennedy. 

In 1960, Kennedy told the Smith diners it was wonderful to see “at the same banquet table, two who have eyed each other suspiciously, disagreed so strongly, both publicly and privately, Vice President Nixon and Governor Rockefeller.” Clinton told the same joke, substituting Democratic Governor Cuomo and New York Mayor DeBlasio.

Kennedy, of course, set the standard for the occasion 56 years ago and has never been bettered. His jokes at the expense of the humor-challenged Nixon were gentle — noting Nixon, “like the rest of us, has had his troubles in this campaign. At one point, The Wall Street Journal was criticizing his tactics. That is like L’Osservatore Romano criticizing the Pope.”

One of his best was aimed at his controversial father, former Ambassador Joseph Kennedy, who was accused of buying the presidency for his second son. “I had announced earlier this year that if successful, I would not consider campaign contributions as a substitute for experience in appointing ambassadors. Ever since I made that statement, I have not received one single cent from my father.”

Lacking Kennedy’s light approach, Nixon did manage one joke at his own expense. After Cuban dictator Fidel Castro had disparaged both candidates as “a couple of beardless youths,” Nixon said he resented the characterization because, “as Senator Kennedy well knows, after my first television debate, my makeup man said I had the worst beard since Sal Maglie.” 

Maglie, called “the barber,” was a pitcher for the recently departed New York Giants, known for what was then called “five o’clock shadow,” a late afternoon beard growth rarely seen on ballplayers in that clean-shaven era. Nixon suffered from the same affliction, which he couldn’t hide before the first TV debate, and which was made worse by a generous application of a 1950s makeup known as Lazy-Shave.

One of the funniest and most graceful Republican speeches ever was delivered at the 2012 dinner by Mitt Romney. In his elegant white tie and tails, Romney, whose wealth had become a campaign issue, reflected on how good it felt for him and wife Anne to be once again dressed in what they wore around the house. And, looking over the well-wined and dined audience, teetotaler Romney noted that, “Usually, when I get invited to dinners like this, it’s just to be designated driver.”

Then, in a nod to his friends in the media, he predicted the next day’s headlines would be, “Obama Embraced by Catholics, Romney Dines with Rich People.”

For his part, incumbent Obama acknowledged the then-close race with, “In less than three weeks, voters in states like Ohio, Virginia and Florida will decide this incredibly important election. Which begs the question, what are we doing here?”

After hearing the 2016 candidates, the guests at last week’s Al Smith dinner were probably asking themselves the same question. 

Simsbury resident Dick Ahles is a retired journalist. Email him at dahles@hotmail.com.