Harris’ non-weird pick for running mate: Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz

My column for the San Francisco Chronicle...

Vice President Kamala Harris made a very non-weird vice presidential choice: Gov. Tim Walz of Minnesota.

“Weird” is the new word of choice rallying cry in the Democratic Party, and Walz himself coined it in an interview.

When then-Sen. John F. Kennedy of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts picked then-Sen. Lyndon Johnson of the Lone Star State of Texas as his vice presidential running mate in 1960, pundits called it the “Austin-Boston” axis.

In 2024, it’s San Francisco-St. Paul: two saints! How bad can it be? OK, call it San Paulo to even it up linguistically.

Walz lives in Mankato, actually, and trust me: it’s not weird. You want normal? He didn’t go to Yale, baby. He went to Chadron State University (no, I haven’t heard of it, either — it’s in Nebraska) and Minnesota State. 

Minnesota has produced two great vice presidents: Hubert H. Humphrey under Johnson and Walter F. Mondale under former President Jimmy Carter.

Humphrey was long-time liberal firebrand in the Senate from 1949 until 1965. Humphrey, a civil rights fighter from the get-go,  got off to a shaky start in the Senate when he went after Southern segregationist senators, but matured quickly into a major senate leader under Johnson as majority leader.

Humphrey ran to the left of Kennedy in the 1960 primaries, lost to the glamour of the JFK machine, and then saw Kennedy and Johnson pick up many of his long-advocated programs, notably the Peace Corps, the Civil Rights Act, food stamps and the Fair Housing Act. Millions of Americans have benefited from Humphrey’s decades-long progressive activism.

Sadly, Humphrey didn’t ever make it to the presidency. He was defeated by former President Richard Nixon in 1968, and how different the country might have been had Johnson been more invested in his success.

Mondale was Humphrey’s key lieutenant in the 1960s, entered politics in Minnesota after managing Humphrey’s campaigns, built a solid record on his own as Minnesota Attorney General and U.S. senator from 1965 until Carter tapped him to run with him in 1976.

Carter needed a solid inside Washington hand, and to send a signal to Democratic liberals that he wasn’t some closeted conservative from Georgia. Mondale filled the bill. He went on to become the most influential, consequential vice president at the time, even setting up a West Wing office.

Mondale went on to lose the presidency in 1984 to former President Ronald Reagan, another Minnesota-California confluence. But not before he selected as his running mate New York Rep. Geraldine Ferraro, the first woman on either party’s national ticket. 

Walz, 60, is a former six-term member of the House of Representative from Minnesota’s First Congressional District, a 25-year non-commissioned Army officer, chairman of the House Veterans Affairs Committee, and then a popular and successful two-term governor of Minnesota. Oh, and he’s also been a former high school social studies teacher and football coach. 

Walz also brings the added advantage of being a clear counterpoint to GOP vice presidential nominee Sen. JD Vance, whose resume is nothing if not contrived.

Walz brings a regular guy quality to the ticket as well. Slick wouldn’t be the first word to describe him, with his gray, balding pate and ample build, looking like a dude who’s perfectly comfortable at a Minnesota Vikings tailgate party. 

In other words, he’s relatable. In a universe of slick pols, Walz is comically not slick. When Mondale was contemplating running for president in 1975, an aide suggested he update his look, maybe change his hair. Mondale responded, “People in Minnesota like s—y haircuts.”

Walz fits that bill, too. He’s bringing the face God gave him, and that’s what people crave. He ain’t an orange spray-painted television clown or a mascara-lined Silicon Valley skunk.

Former Oregon Gov. Kate Brown, who also happens to be a native Minnesotan herself (Walz is actually from West Point, Neb., which is even more Minnesota than Minnesota), raved about Walz in an interview. She served concurrently with him, and knows him well.

“He’s normal,” Brown noted drily, in stark contrast to the kooky carnival barker ticket the GOP MAGA cult has produced. 

“He’s nice, he’s thoughtful, he’s kind, he cares about people,” Brown said.

“He made sure every kid in Minnesota had lunch, because he knows how important food in your belly is if you want kids to learn,” noting Walz’s close-to-the-ground policy style.  

“I think what Gov. Walz has is this ability to connect with people, people from all walks of life,” she said. “And in this day and age, I think that’s what people are hungry for.”

She’s right. Trump and Vance are populist poseurs, loud-mouthed self-promoters who stand in the mirror instead of looking out the window.

“His resume is out of Central Casting,” Brown added. “He’s a teacher and he took his football team to the state championship.”

Did Trump do that? Nope. He just hangs out with billionaire NFL team owners.

Walz’s charming regularity will also work well with some of those Midwest folks who are weary of Trump’s Mar-A-Lago morality and mendacity. See also: Nikki Haley voters.

What plays in Minnesota is going to play in Wisconsin, also known as Minnesota’s easternmost county. Walz will play in Michigan, which is full of guys with fishing boats with trolling motors. Walz will play in Pennsylvania, which is a rural state with two major urban areas bracketing the deer hunters in between.

Oh, and Walz is a deer hunter.

Walz also has a true sense of humor, and he’s going to need it, because Trump and his creepy running mate are going to throw every asinine punch they can come up. 

Walz may be DEI for white dudes, but that’s OK. He also appointed the first Black woman to the Minnesota Supreme Court, for the record.

Harris called Walz a “battle-tested leader” with an “incredible track record.” 

And football record.

Minnesota has been defined by basic human decency for eons, and been led effectively by mostly really solid politicians. Garrison Keillor may have made hay out of the quirky aspects of the state on his weekly NPR radio show “A Prairie Home Companion” (1974-2016), but that’s OK.

San Franciscans secretly like hot dishes, too.