Word: coneys
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Ideal Date: Coney Island, or even a walk along the Charles when it’s warmer. Anything that gives us a chance to talk and be silly...
Then again, there are times when they can't help but run into each other. Just about everyone from both offices eats lunch at Coney Island, a second-floor diner known for its pork loin. And there's the men's room, of course. A Paul volunteer recently ran into Huckabee himself there, and found him to be cordial. But there is some quiet grumbling from Huckabee's team about Paul's people using up all the paper towels. When told about the dispute, a top strategist for a rival G.O.P. campaign said of the scruffy Paul forces: "They probably...
...Giuliani might not want to give up his Upper East Side apartment for an Iowa farmhouse just yet. Despite his newfound enthusiasm for the state, not everything about Giuliani translates well this far west of the Hudson. In the audience at Coney's was Stan Sheldon, who has been active in Iowa presidential politics since 1936, when he got into trouble for pasting Alf Landon signs on the door of his school. This time Sheldon is supporting Romney. "I think he's been married three times," he said of Giuliani. "That's gonna hurt him here." And in a state...
...York called Nyack! Spelled differently..." Upon learning that composer Meredith Willson grew up in Mason City, Giuliani immediately made the connection: "The Music Man was on Broadway a long time." Most familiar of all is Iowa's tradition of retail politics, he said outside a Webster City diner called Coney's Plus (yep, just like the island). "This," declared Giuliani, "is the way you campaign in New York City...
...There have been no photo shoots at the Statue of Liberty; no Coney Island weekend jaunts; no brassy Broadway musicals; no Fifth Avenue shopping sprees; no bar-hopping, no galleries; nary an Indie rock show. I haven’t even set foot in the hallowed Met—though not for lack of trying: the guard wouldn’t let me through because I was carrying the remnants of a Central Park picnic. (He sifted through my bag: “Brie? Apple cider? What else do you have in here?” Me, sheepishly...