The Five Who Tried



Kirk Becker



Ted Kircher



John Johnson



Ray Blanchette



Jennifer Gale

all photographs, except John Johnson, by Alan Pogue

The only reason to call homeless person Kirk Becker a fringe candidate is because his jeans have fringe hanging from the knee-holes. His ideas, concerns, and thought processes are surprisingly normal, if you overlook the fact that he's running for mayor. Despite his lackadaisical appearance -- he sports a vagabond beard and a sweaty bandana over long hair -- the 38-year old Becker has won over candidates' forums with his common-sense witticisms. Becker embodies the early characteristics that endeared his current opponent, the long-haired former Councilmember Max Nofziger, to city voters during the Eighties -- unique ideas and a wit that's too humorous to be offensive. "Can't get a raise to pay the higher rents? Ask your boss to send a contribution to Kirk Becker," reads one of his campaign pronouncements.

Homeless since 1989, the native of suburban Milwaukee came here in 1976, and in his private life helps maintain the public computer facility at the Carver library in East Austin. Becker knows the issues, sometimes better than the councilmembers themselves. His principle concern is Austin's increasingly expensive cost of living. To lower the cost of housing, Becker wants the city to build more low-income houses, sell them to private investors and use the proceeds to create more houses. That will, Becker believes, reduce the need for tax-burdening welfare dollars, boost the economy, and allow more money for things like public computers and a detox center in Circle C.

Becker doesn't much care for Nofziger, who, while never among the legions of homeless himself, had been considered one of their champions. But that was before he joined other councilmembers in banning camping within the city limits. "Rents are going up and what's he do? Bans homelessness. Tssch," Becker says. Still, his campaign shares many similarities with Nofziger's early days. He's raised a grass-roots $111, with his biggest donation being $100 from elite council watchdog Richard Trachtenberg. Not surprisingly, Becker's entire public relations operation consists of himself, a beeper, a copying machine, and four homemade signs. He's vying with Nofziger for Seventies holdouts, council gadflies, and the Helmet Law Party. Don't be shocked if he's a surprise hit on May 3; some say he could pull in over 5% of the vote.

Another sleeper may be Ted "the webhead" Kircher, the stiff, white-haired hi-techie who believes the path to Austin's salvation starts on the Internet. "The powers-that-be have not capitalized on the information age," Kircher says. "My opponents are working with a tool box and only half the tools. This is not po-dunk village. Austin has one of the most advanced technological industries in the world. Let's take advantage of that."

Thirty-two years of employment at IBM has apparently affected the webhead's diction. He usually speaks in cyber-soundbytes. Interface, downsize, paradigm shifts, and download are some of his favorite words. Kircher is running a virtual campaign: his solutions to city problems make virtually no sense. Asked an annexation question, he responds that interfaces between the public will allow an improved quality of life. He wants mass transit to occur over the Internet, so he does not favor light rail: "We need light rail telecommuting." Maybe his web-will-save-the-world spiel is just a little before its time. Still, he may connect with Austin's increasingly hi-tech populace and win a few votes.

The three remaining mayoral candidates may not even get votes from their mothers. John Johnson is one of those, a former Noo Joisey mobstuh, he claims, who came to Austin under the Witness Protection Program. He blew his cover back in 1991 to run for mayor. Now, he's making a third bid for the center of the dais, though he frankly admits that he won't win. Instead, he just hopes to bring attention to the issue of police harassment. Particularly, Johnson complains that mounted police have trained their horses to defecate near the hot dog stands he runs on Sixth Street. "The mounted police have turned my life into a nightmare!" he bitches.

Johnson has not yet suggested emission controls for the police horses; however, he is calling for a civilian police review board. "Who polices the police?" he asks. Johnson's crazed blue eyes and moiderous tone will make him a hard pitch to voters. But his message should not be ignored. Incidents of police brutality -- such as the infamous "Valentine's Day Massacre" in East Austin -- give Johnson's message credence. Plus, if you don't listen to Johnson, the police chief could wake up with a horse head in the bed.

Ray "the Vet" Blanchette gained fame during the last mayoral race. Remember, Blanchette is the candidate who had his house demolished because he would not remove the trash pile that had grown so large that the city deemed it a health hazard. Blanchette has cleaned up his act now and the former Vietnam pilot wants to be your "guardian angel." He is generally unaware of the issues, but says his past government service would make him a responsible councilmember: "You can't go from a private to a major without some sort of leadership."

Jennifer Gale may be the race's only female candidate. But while she talks like a woman, she walks like a man. That's because Gale, who is homeless, is a modest transvestite with tell-tale stubbled-cheeks and a put-on airy voice. Ironically, Gale, who has run unsuccessfully for the mayor-ship in Dallas, has received the most publicity for imposing a media blackout. She has refused to talk with the Statesman or this paper because, in her opinion, neither publication recognized her campaign early enough. For more than a week she confounded reporters and photographers from the local daily as they attempted to get her picture. Gale rarely speaks at candidate forums, but did make an appearance at the Old West Austin Neighborhood Association a few weeks ago. Looking as scruffy as a revolutionary, but with a homemaker's sweetness in her voice, she read from her manifesto, announcing some of her top issues: public safety and proper immunizations. Gale has also said that if she wins, she'll make Max Nofziger her mayoral assistant. That's about all anyone knows about Gale, except that she has "hundreds and hundreds of issues." She just won't tell us what they are. -- A.M.