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Kerry’s Chief of Staff
Originally from the NY Times

Heads up from that rascally Hannity

YOUNGSTOWN, Ohio The man who would be president takes peanut butter and jelly sandwiches - on whole wheat, strawberry jelly preferred to grape - twice a day on the campaign trail. He wears $15 reading glasses, off the rack at a CVS drug store. Before bedtime, he starts but rarely finishes movies like "Seabiscuit" and "The Blues Brothers" in his hotel suite. Come morning, he leaves $20 for the maid.

"I’ll get that back when I raise her taxes", he says
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Voters do not learn these tidbits about Senator John Kerry of Massachusetts, the all-but-crowned Democratic nominee for president, from his campaign Web site, his public speeches or his television advertisements. These and other details are the portfolio of the man literally behind the man, ready with a uncapped bottle of water whenever Kerry’s throat runs dry.

What ever Johnny wants, Johnny gets

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Meet Marvin Nicholson Jr., Chief of Stuff.
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"I can’t help with policy, I don’t do press," said Nicholson, 32, a former bartender and caddie who never voted before meeting Kerry in 1998. "When he wants that peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I’m ready."

Well peanut butter and jelly sandwich served on a Scooby-Doo plate
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So Nicholson crisscrosses the country with a loaf of bread in his bag. He makes most of the sandwiches himself, sometimes supplementing with room service.To spend a day in Nicholson’s shadow is to see the personal side of a candidate entering an increasingly scripted and sheltered phase of the campaign. Kerry, 59, is comfortable being catered to. He has his moods, and his myriad personal needs. A social loner, he iscontent to hang out with an aide half his age.

A social loner? Middle-aged social loners. All kinds of problems
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Nicholson rouses Kerry each morning with a phone call.Then, after a few minutes, he heads down the hall, picks up the newspapers outside Kerry’s door and brings them to him. He orders and delivers all of Kerry’s meals.
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He keeps little black books filled with the names and numbers of people Kerry meets, dials many of his telephone calls, helps select his neckties (and opening one-liners), collects gifts from well-wishers and transports Kerry’s leather briefcase, three hunter-green duffels and two navy suit bags.At night, he often stays by Kerry’s side until he is ready to turn in.

Helps him put on the jammies, I bet. I thought that was Nurse Fuzzy-Wuzzy’s job!
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If he sounds like a glorified valet, Nicholson is also Kerry’s ambassador, spreading smiles and remembering names for a candidate known to fumble them, reading his reactions for other aides. And, in an entourage of politicos and policy wonks, Nicholson is Kerry’s buddy, going long to catch the football whenever he feels like tossing it.

Kerry has some one who won’t complain if he doesn’t throw straight.
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Every modern presidential candidate has a factotum, known as the "body man." They are typically ambitious Washington junkies, overqualified to schlep bags but eager to shake the high-powered hands in between.
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. . . . .

Nicholson, who earned a geography degree at the University of Western Ontario, and who aspired to the Weather Channel, seems a different breed.
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Rearedon Vancouver Island in Canada and in Toronto by an American mother - his father died when he was 9 - Nicholson carries dual citizenship. He befriended Kerry, a customer, while working at a windsurfing shop in Cambridge, Massachusetts, then caddied for him two summers on Nantucket.

Not even an American. I see! No American would put up with this BS
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He postponed Kerry’s offer of a Senate internship to caddie at Augusta National, home of the Masters, then landed in Washington the week before the 2000 election. By New Year’s, he had become Kerry’s driver. They hit the campaign trail together last winter.
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Nicholson’s role has evolved with the campaign. He is no longer the guy who gets the toothpaste. Instead, Nicholson, who earned $45,000 last year, is the guy who asks the guy to get the toothpaste. There are plenty of people around, now, to help lug Kerry’s Spanish guitar to his room at night and tote his fancy Serotta racing bicycle on and off the plane.
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But it is the towering Nicholson who anticipates Kerry’s needs as they make eye contact across the crowds. It is Nicholson who is ready with a fresh shirt after a rally in intense heat. When Kerry stays overnight at supporters’ homes, it is Nicholson who accompanies him. When Kerry’s wife, Teresa Heinz Kerry, joins him on the road, Nicholson’s routine hardly changes.

My Gawd Senator Pampered. Senator removed from real world.
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And it is Nicholson who decides what and when Kerry eats, no longer needing to ask about his cravings.

I won’t comment on this.
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"Can I have that prepared dry with peanut butter on the side?" he asked the other morning in Tampa, Florida, as he ordered two eggs over easy, bacon, whole-wheat toast and apple juice from room service.
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"Do you guys have any yogurt? Raspberry yogurt? Is it in, like, little containers? Could I get two containers?"
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For lunch and dinner, while the staff scarfs sandwiches and chips, Nicholson finds hot food for Kerry - a local specialty is nice, but a standby is soup and half chicken with three sides (corn, green beans, mashed potatoes).
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"Marvin takes care of everything," Milton Ferrell, Kerry’s Florida fundraiser, said as he introduced him to a donor at a reception that afternoon.

I have too much information
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Posted by: BigEd 2004-04-28
http://www.rantburg.com/poparticle.php?ID=31740