Unmasked candidate no marvel; she’s doomed
Most politicians covet publicity. After all, getting ink is preferable to being ignored. The exception is when they’re caught flip-flopping.
Republican congressional candidate Alexis Martinez Johnson has put herself in this fix, though for the moment she’s happy about it.
Johnson made a show Friday of refusing to wear a mask while campaigning on the Plaza.
With COVID-19 infections surging, Johnson knew she would draw complaints and the attention of police officers working a beat.
The cops issued her a citation for violating a city ordinance requiring people to wear masks in public.
Johnson claimed it was a case of officious bureaucrats passing a law taking away her personal liberty. She said she might wear a mask if she visited a hospital but otherwise would flout all public health orders on face coverings.
I wrote a column pointing out this was a new stand for Johnson. She wore a mask in April while protesting a quarantine order by Democratic Gov. Michelle Lujan Grisham.
Johnson also outfitted her four young children in masks for the demonstration outside the state Capitol.
It turns out that Johnson remained a fan of masks as recently as late May.
She used her Facebook account to contact Heather Nordquist, a scientist who makes masks as an avocation to help Operation Bandana New Mexico. The organization provides food, water and personal protective equipment to the Navajo Nation and other rustic areas hit hard by the novel coronavirus.
Johnson said she was in the market for Nordquist’s products.
“Heather I love your masks!” Johnson wrote. “Not sure what bidding your doing but I would like to buy a [Dallas] Cowboys one from you. I can buy two. Let me know how much. I’m here in Santa Fe.”
Johnson wanted masks for her children, too.
“Also let me know when you have some for kiddos. I have 2 very small kiddos and 2 bigger kids.”
Nordquist on May 29 delivered masks to Johnson for the candidate’s 2-year-old twins.
Johnson paid $14 for the masks, sending the money to Operation Bandana through its fundraising page.
Johnson, who holds an engineering degree from New Mexico Tech, seems to have made a calculated move. She’s gone from an enthusiastic consumer of protective masks to an outspoken critic of politicians who support their use.
“It’s blatant hypocrisy,” Nordquist said. “But this girl is not stupid. She is doing it because she thinks she has something to gain.”
My view is different. Johnson went from being an up-and-coming vote-getter for the Republicans to a punchline.
She had almost no chance to win the open seat in the 3rd Congressional District this November against Democrat Teresa Leger Fernandez.
But younger voters typically aren’t interested in party labels. They care more about competence and commit
ment to solving problems.
Johnson might have made an impression on them by running a smart campaign this year. She could have become one of the Republicans’ bright hopes to win elective office in 2022.
Instead, she’s committed political suicide by veering to the land of the mad hatters.
I mentioned that Johnson was happy about the burst of attention she’s received for defying the city ordinance. This is because her maneuver seemed to fire up people in her base. They sent Johnson laudatory messages on social media.
In response to one admirer, Johnson wrote: “Thank you for your support, my fellow American Patriot.”
She reminds me of a more successful politician who shared her surname.
Big Ed Johnson, who was a three-term governor and three-term U.S. senator from Colorado, believed all publicity was good.
If a story was favorable, he crowed about it. If the coverage was negative, at least his name was in the papers. Big Ed believed most people wouldn’t remember more than that.
Big Ed has been gone for 50 years. A lot has changed since his heyday.
In this era of a spreading disease, a candidate who swerves to a position against masks hasn’t committed an act of patriotism. She has doomed herself.
Not often do I write a political obituary in July. Alexis, it was nice knowing you.