primary caucus

The Primary Caucus The caucus, which was originally found in the Caucus Mountains by curious Soviets, is a seemingly arbitrary, complex way for state parties to select their candidate. Its rules are arcane and widely misunderstood and history tells us that the only person who fully understands them is Dick Tracy, who is fictional. What separates them from the primary is that, thanks to its bizarre rules, it can sometimes lead to strange practices that diverge widely from more orderly primaries. Iowa: 1972 While George McGovern was the leading Democratic candidate, a frigid group of Hawkeyes gathered together on caucus night seemingly determined to buck a trend. McGovern won the first ballot with only seven votes (with three votes going to "Broom Hilda" and one to cigarettes). However, before the second ballot could be taken, the rules caught up with the elderly Democrats: unable to do the handstands required to move forward, the creaky geezers decided to amend the rules and make a human pyramid to select their choice. As the New York Times reporter covering the event would later put it, "It was the Hindenburg all over again." The none-too-agile voters came toppling to the ground just moments before rewarding Alan Alda with their full 11 votes as they kneeled red-faced and panting on one another's backs. According to the official rules, this mishap meant that the Democrats would have to abandon candidates all-together and vote for their favorite constellation, which, not surprisingly, was Orion. McGovern went on to capture the nomination and became President of Massachusetts and the District of Columbia.   Maine: 1988 Though Maine is only 49% black, the Rev. Jesse Jackson felt he had a shot of beating the dynamic and exhilarating Massachusetts governor, Michael Dukakis, in this contest. Unfortunately for Jackson, it was snowing on caucus day, meaning that instead of traditional voting, the party delegates would have to select their choice based on who "dazzled" them the most with a hit tune. Never one to shy away from making himself a public spectacle, Dukakis - who many say rivaled Hitler and John F. Kennedy in the charisma department - donned white tie, top hat, tails and a onyx cane and performed a wild, two-hour production of "Puttin' on the Ritz." Jackson, who had to rush away from a seminar in Boston explaining what a clam was, arrived very late in the day and could only muster enough energy to sing "I'm a little tea pot" in a British accent. Maine voters, feeling shortchanged, were impressed enough by Dukakis to award him the overwhelmingly majority of their votes. He went on to win the nomination and debate Vice President Bush while wearing garish whore's make-up.   Wyoming: 1976 In an unusual move, former California governor and prune afficionado Ronald Reagan decided to challenge President Gerald Ford for the nomination, despite Ford's incumbent status. Reagan cited the fact that Ford was simply an actor pretending to the president while he - Reagan - was a president pretending to be a cowboy dressed as an actor. The GOP was torn. Many agreed that Ford was hurt by the fact that he was unable to speak or understand English. This gave Reagan an edge in the Wyoming caucus, in which all participants are required to speak English or a form of Mandarin Chinese many believe is just silly noises. In another lucky break for Reagan, the rules were on his side: the GOP voters, tired of imaginative and unusual 70s-era fashions, determined their candidate based on who had the slimmest necktie on caucus day. Reagan, sporting a Brooks Brothers number he bought in 1969, won out with 2.2 inches at its widest, while Ford was devastated and humiliated by his 1975 JC Penny purchase, coming in at a shocking 3.4 inches. It is widely believed by no one that Wyoming had any say in who received the nomination since it did not become a state until 1981.   Iowa: 1980 Still struggling with the oppressive mental humidity created by President Jimmy Carter's "National Mayonnaise" speech given the previous year, Democratic caucus-goers were determined to abide by new party rules that mandated they vote for the candidate that made them feel worst about themselves. Senator Ted Kennedy of Massachusetts had an early lead in the polls thanks to his habit of publicly claiming that being poor was the new rich and that most Iowans would die alone in the cold. But PR wizard Jimmy Carter was not to be outdone: the president traveled door to door saying that he would probably be the last president of the United States and that Buckeyes should prepare for "an endless winter of Soviet domination." Kennedy, reacting very late in the game, staged a Chekhov production in a Des Moines landfill in which he played all the roles. Carter fought back by saying that if reelected, he would make beef broth the national meal and ban dessert and sunshine. Morbid and shaken, Democrats voted in record low numbers for their miserable candidate and Carter won the day. He went on to renounce his U.S. citizenship and advocate full time for the government to pay Americans to cry at work and drown their pets on holidays.