Fred Thompson fails to get the 500 signatures needed for Delaware primary ballot [Archive]

AlonzoMourning23

12-12-2007, 11:31 PM

According to the Department of Elections, Mitt Romney and Mike Huckabee have been certified to be on the Delaware primary ballot on Feb.5th.

Unfortunately, Fred Thompson fell short of the 500 signature mark, and will not be on the ballot.

The Delaware ballot for Feb 5th:

* Rudy Giuliani
* Mike Huckabee
* John McCain
* Ron Paul
* Mitt Romney
* Tom Tancredo

Others could be added in the near future should they decide to accept federal matching funds.

UPDATE: Jason Bonham at Race42008.com is reporting that the DOE said Thompson only had 281 out of 500 signatures, and that most of their signatures were rejected because they were not registered Republicans.

http://firststatepolitics.wordpress.com/2007/12/12/romney-huckabee-on-de-ballot-thompson-misses-mark/

:madlaugh::madlaugh::madlaugh::madlaugh:

Alright, I've controlled myself. Wait a second

:madlaugh:

Ok, I'm done now.

lily

12-13-2007, 12:35 AM

This could be part of his problem. (http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/12/11/AR2007121102168.html?hpid=topnews):madlaugh:

Folk Ways

By Dana Milbank
Wednesday, December 12, 2007; Page A20

Tell us, Fred Thompson, about your national security policy.

"The good guys win and the bad guys lose -- how 'bout that?"

Profound. And your economic policy?

"Free people, free markets, doin' free things together."

Well said. Do you worry that tax cuts might cause lost revenue?

"It ain't lost, it's in my pocket."

As for how he came to hold certain views on health care, he has this answer
for his audience in Anderson, S.C.: "I had a conversation with my little
mama back in Franklin, Tennessee."

His 87-year-old mother's advice also persuades him to reject the new
National Intelligence Estimate reporting that Iran has suspended its nuclear
program. "Remember whatcha mama told ya," the former senator from Tennessee
recommends. "If somethin' appears to be too good to be true, it probably
is."

Is it possible to be too folksy? Thompson seems determined to find out. The
big man with all those Hollywood roles is trying to slow-drawl his way to
the GOP nomination. To the extent that Thompson has a pitch, it's that he
doesn't change his views like, say, Mitt Romney or Rudy Giuliani. "Where I
stand does not depend on where I'm standing or what political office I
happen to be running for," he asserts.

Mostly, though, he's recommending himself to voters as a good ol' boy.

"Y'all know where a man can get a decent meal in this town?" he asks the
crowd at Mama Penn's Real Southern Cooking, next door to the "$5 Christian
Bookstore" and a few blocks from the Baptist church with the drive-through
Nativity scene. "I'm a Tennessee boy. I consider this my neck of the woods
and I hope South Carolinians think this is my neck of the woods, too." The
last part he pronounces "mah neck-uh-da woods."

Thompson has a reputation for being a lazy campaigner, and he meets
expectations when he arrives 10 minutes late even though his last event was
hours earlier in the same town; he comes in a side door to avoid the need to
work the room. But his speech, given without notes and with one hand in his
pants pocket, is unexpectedly lively -- and expectedly down home.

His principles, he says, come from "the standpoint of an ol' boy" who
"started out workin' in a factory in Lawrenceburg, Tennessee." He worked in
Washington as a congressional staffer but decided "I ain't never comin' back
to this place."

He wants to "bring our folks back home" from Iraq but not "with our tail
between our legs." He still believes that Iran's nuclear energy program is
for weapons, because "here's this country settin' on all this oil."

Thompson also makes it clear that he doesn't much like the idea of illegal
immigrants, abortion, same-sex marriage and judges "makin' up the law as
they go along."

"Let's go together and get it done," he exhorts in closing, then corrects
himself: "Get 'er done." The South Carolinians chuckle over their fried
chicken. Thompson grabs a bottle of water, takes a swig and lets out a loud
"ahhhh" as fiddle music comes through the speakers.

He dispatches a few of the usual questions about gays, job losses and
energy, but he lights up when somebody asks him to sign for his mother a
book Thompson wrote years ago. "Well, well, lookee here," Thompson says of
the author photo. "Looka that ol' boy with all that dark hair. All I can
think of is that ol' song, 'Precious Memories.' "

Lest anybody think he was a big-shot author, he adds: "I knew somebody had
bought that book -- I just didn't know who it was."

The audience loves it. This ol' boy may not be going to the White House, but
this is definitely his neck of the woods.