Don't You Wish Your Mayor Was Hot Like Me

"I think the average citizen wants to hear that we're not throwing money away in this city," says Rasansky, who along with Miller is a frequent dissenter on most tax abatement deals. "And we're not hearing it."

That's good news for Oakley and Hill, who instead of having to fend off tough questions about how the city council does business can generously share credit with each other for helping lead popular council initiatives. They're both amiable men; even when they tweak the other for taking too much responsibility for a particular project, it's with a friendly and good-natured jab, like two frat boys joking about who got drunker at Saturday's kegger. In fact, there are times when the two have identical messages.

Here's Oakley at a forum at Dallas Methodist Medical Center in Oak Cliff:

"I believe we're going in the right direction. If you believe we are then vote for me."

Here's Hill at a forum at the Bent Tree Country Club in Far North Dallas:

"What I think is that you want to go in the direction we are going. I represent that."

So how exactly are they different? The two don't go out of the way to outline their divisions, but if you parse Hill's statements on the campaign trail, he's trying to cast himself as the most effective leader of a most effective council.

As the mayor pro tem who consistently delivered southern sector votes for former Mayor Ron Kirk and against Miller, he may be right—at least about the leader part. Hill, whose district ranges from Oak Cliff to Pleasant Grove, can also rightly boast that he has been a catalyst for development in the southern sector. Along with state Senator Royce West, who is endorsing him, Hill helped bring the University of North Texas campus to the Dallas/ DeSoto line. Although he may not be able to run a restaurant, he can conceive of far more complicated enterprises. Hill took before the council the initial plans for the inland port project, a transportation trade hub that could mean thousands of jobs.

The Dallas Morning News reported that when Hill took credit for the inland port at a mayoral forum—often he talks about how he drew up the plan on a napkin—his competitors didn't disagree. Instead, they congratulated him.

Oakley, meanwhile, claims that he was a leader of the council as well, taking part in every important battle in City Hall over the last five years.

"I've helped craft a vision for this city, and I want to move it forward, whether it's economic development, the inland port, the American Airlines Center or the Trinity River project," says the Oak Cliff-area council member. "The mayor appointed me to important committees because she knows once I get my arms around it I can build support in the council."

But if you're happy with how the city is going and agree with the council's love affair with developers, why exactly would you vote for Oakley over Hill?

Council member Bill Blaydes, who is endorsing Oakley, brings up the elephant in the room of every mayoral forum.

"Mr. Hill, though I like him as a friend, still has a federal indictment hanging over his head, and I do not want to see the city of Dallas embarrassed any further," he says, though Hill has not been indicted. "It still has not been settled; it may be settled in Don's mind but not the rest of the world."

Although the three aren't natural campaigners, they are a remarkably accomplished group. Leppert is the former chief executive officer of Turner Construction, a private company that last year was responsible for $8.6 billion in construction. Coats, a short, unimposing man who somehow managed to run five marathons, is a corporate turnaround artist who served as the CEO of Schlotzky's restaurants and a top executive at Braniff, Southwest and Continental airlines. The best orator of the three, Jordan, is a former managing partner of Godwin Gruber and one-time president of both the Dallas Bar Association and the State Bar of Texas. Jordan also served on the board that tried unsuccessfully to bring the 2012 Olympics to Dallas, which is as good a clue as any of his inherent optimism.

Other than the fact that the three outsider candidates will one day have very impressive Wikipedia entries, they don't have much else in common. Leppert is the most aloof of the three, if not all, of the candidates. His rivals, who are rather chummy with each other, have tweaked him on the campaign trail more than anyone else. Initially, their mild attacks caused part of Leppert's face to twitch involuntarily, but he seems to have that under control lately. Now Leppert repeatedly tries to set himself apart from the scrum as being the only one who has "led a large complex organization," which he says is a good prelude to being mayor of a city such as Dallas.