Listening, and Not

I attended two so-called "listening sessions" today.

One was held by U.S. Rep. Paul Ryan on his 2012 budget proposal. The session was held in a high school auditorium that was packed. Packed two ways.

Packed in the conventional sense. Every one of the 550 seats was filled. But also packed in the sense that a court is packed. That is, when a court-appointment/nominating authority, whether the U.S. president or state governor, picks judges or judicial nominees with whom she or he is ideologically and/or politically aligned. And it showed at the Ryan session.

Way more than half--perhaps even three-fourths of those attending--gave the congressman a standing ovation when he walked out onto the stage and again several times during his presentation (remember, the event was billed as a LISTENING session) and during his response to some of the questions.

The questions were also a give away. Most seem to have been planted. They were either softballs or were asked in ways that gave Ryan a platform to reiterate his primary messages many times over.

Two things struck me. One was the way the questioners were selected. Ryan picked out people who had hands raised. And there were many. He made it look random and constantly remarked at not being able to see the audience very well because of lights shining in his eyes. Yet, he called on one woman this way, "The woman in blue jeans."

First, I dare say that at least half of the women there were wearing jeans, including me and my daughter who was with me.

Second, the woman he was pointing was about half way back in the auditorium, meaning not near the front, and certainly way beyond his being able to see clearly (because of the lights).

Since she was so far back and and sitting down, he couldn't possibly have seen whether or not she was wearing jeans, why would he have identified her that way?

Another thing that aroused my suspicion was that Ryan repeated often and loud in his presentation and managed to work into his answers -- even when no one asked specifically about it -- that anyone who is 55 or older would not be affected in any way by his proposed changes in Medicare. They would continue to be covered by Medicare exactly as they are now. That placated a huge majority of the audience -- which was mostly over 65. How do I know that? Because Ryan made sure he knew it was by asking early in the session for everyone who was over 55 to raise their hands.

Yet, despite making that point often and emphatically during the session, the last person he called on had one simple, direct question. Would the changes he proposed in his plan affect Medicare for people over 55 years old?

That gave Ryan the opportunity to not only re-enforce his promise that it would not, but that it also would be the very last thing session attendees would hear him say, so, therefore, would be the single thing they most likely would remember from the session. That is very important to Ryan, not so much for getting his plan passed as it is to his re-election. Ryan knows that people vote according to what they think will benefit them the most and that older white people (and all the faces I saw there were white) vote in larger percentages than any other demographic.

One more thing I'll say about Ryan's "listening session." It was anything but. He began with a very slick PowerPoint presentation with snazzy, eye-popping charts -- and viscerally scary graphics. And the majority of the questions he took seemed either designed or accidently framed in a way to give him an opportunity to expound at length on the wonderous and savior aspects of his plan. And he cut off and interrupted the few negative questioners, indicating that he wasn't going to give any opportunity for antagonism or argument. So much for him listening, I thought.

I'll write tomorrow about the second listen session I attended today. I will say now, though, that it was far different from the one Ryan held.