Don't You Wish Your Mayor Was Hot Like Me

"You're the best people in the world to represent," he told a Republican women's group at a forum in Far North Dallas in his old council district. "You make my life easy."

But for Wells, a funny thing happened on his way to the shuffleboard court. He dropped the third person, started to smile and, perhaps most important, found a way to carve out a rather distinct identity in this race. As easy as it is to make fun of Wells' age—he's actually 73—he can run from two different vantage points. As the founder of a community bank and vice president of Sterling Bank for the Dallas region, Wells can compete with Leppert for the support of the business community. Also, as a council member from 1988-1997, including mayor pro tem during those final two years, Wells can say that he knows the mechanics of local government.

"I know this city. I know this school district," he said at a recent forum. "I worked with three mayors, Annette Strauss, Ron Kirk and Steve Bartlett. I know what works; I know what doesn't work."

At various forums, the new Wells says that as mayor he'd follow the example of Strauss, whom he portrays as a gentle, supportive leader. His affinity for this type of leadership style sets him apart from Jordan and Leppert, who cast themselves, through their words and mannerisms, as conventional big-city mayors in a city that doesn't allow for such.

"Annette Strauss used to call every council member every Sunday and ask them, 'What are you working on and how can I help you?'" he says. "She is the model for a weak-mayor form of government."

Since the Observer and its blog Unfair Park have mocked Wells for the crime of being 73, let's give him a cheesy campaign blurb he can use in his next mailer:

"While just about every candidate talks a good game about hiring more police officers to fight crime, only Wells has a plan to pay for it."

—Dallas Observer

Wells is that rare political candidate who will broach the idea of raising your taxes to pay for a campaign promise. Specifically, he is proposing a referendum on a half-cent sales tax increase and earmarking the revenue, which could total as much as $100 million annually, for the police department.

But let's not get carried away here. There are parts of his candidacy that are positively old-school, the least of which is his back-scratching coalition of rich businessmen—Hunt has endorsed him—and old black leaders from the southern sector. In Dallas, there is an age-old alliance between those seemingly disparate groups: The wealthy business types win political support from black council members for their various projects in return for promises of southern sector development, if not donations to their churches and campaigns. Wells knows he needs both groups to win, which is why he doesn't see anything wrong with touting his ethics plan—"more sunlight," he says—while defending the ethically challenged Al Lipscomb, the former southern Dallas council member who has endorsed him.

Wells also won't risk alienating the Hunts of the world with his philosophy on tax giveaways to businesses.

"Let's not see how much money the rich guys get," he said in a recent interview. "[Rather] let's see if it's good for us."

Like Wells, Gary Griffith can claim to know how City Hall works without having to tie himself to the current regime. In 2003, Griffith was elected to District 9 council seat in a runoff, winning just a tad more than 4,000 votes. Less than two years later, he began to think about running for mayor after Dallas lost the Cowboys to Arlington.

"It was clear to me the city needed a leader in the mayor's office that could bring Dallas together," he says. "We had to create a more businesslike atmosphere at City Hall, end our bickering and get to work."

A former teacher who now runs a small public relations firm, Griffith is trying to convince voters he'll make a good mayor by persuading them he's been a good council member. At several forums, Griffith has used nearly all of the time allotted to him by talking about how he's arranged meetings in his Lakewood-area district between neighborhood groups and police, and about how crime in the area has dropped by nearly 40 percent. Sometimes, he'll simply list all the new businesses that have relocated to his district.

"My message is I want to do in the rest of the city what we did in District 9," he said in a recent interview. "Strong tax-base growth, significant reduction of crime, a commitment to a vibrant quality of life."

Although Griffith is beloved in his district, which is stocked with campaign signs, his council colleagues regard him less generously. In 2005, when the council debated whether Hunt should receive tax giveaways, Griffith managed to anger both sides when he skipped the vote.

"I've known Gary for many years and consider myself a friend," says council member Bill Blaydes. "Sometimes he has a hard time making a decision because he doesn't want to upset one side or another. I don't think our next mayor can be like that."