Many voters remain unhappy with the substance of the public schools, and the style with which Bloomberg has made changes. And the city’s many unglamorous neighborhoods feel a particular distance from the billionaire mayor. These are two openings for the Democrats, Fields in particular, because her up-from-segregation life story and record as borough president give her a genuine rapport with the disenfranchised. As Fields leaves, the young teacher in the back of the room intercepts the mayoral candidate and wraps her in a hug. “It’s so important that she came here today,” the teacher says later. “We’re not a high priority at all in this city. Somebody finally came and recognized us! Certainly Mayor Bloomberg hasn’t.”

Fernando Ferrer
Ninety minutes later and 260 blocks south, on the top floor of the NYU student center, Fernando Ferrer takes to a podium high above Washington Square Park to address 200 senior citizens gathered for lunch and a mayoral forum. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer glorious views of the sun-drenched city. Ferrer looks impressively, credibly mayoral in a navy-blue suit. Yet things get off to a testy start.

There’s an undertow of chatter and clinking silverware as Ferrer begins his remarks. He stops and stares at a noisy table to his left. “Talk all you want,” he says. “I’ll have another sip of my coffee.” Which he does, slowly, until the room quiets.

Nevertheless, Ferrer’s remarks about the city’s “crisis of affordability” go over well, and he finishes to loud applause. Ferrer, say the polls, is the Democratic front-runner by a double-digit margin, and after a couple of months of fumbling and staff changes, he’s back to resolutely acting the part of top dog, exuding confidence and gravity. Yet in trying to project himself as Bloomberg’s only worthy adversary, Ferrer sometimes struggles to connect with voters. Today, after his speech, the former Bronx borough president works the room, smiling broadly as he compliments the outfits of grandmotherly audience members. All is warm and well until Ferrer reaches Table 18.

“You invited me here—but you don’t want to hear my speech,” says Ferrer. “You want to make a speech!” An aide is whispering to Ferrer, “We need to go.”

“Tell me something,” says a cinder block of a man who looks to be about 75 and will give his name only as Andy. “I get a 1.7 percent raise on Social Security. I get a 7.5 percent rise on my rent. Tell me how that balances!”

“I’ll tell you how that balances,” Ferrer says, loading up what he apparently intends as street-smart banter. “You eat less.”

“Yeah, I eat less!” Andy growls back. “And all you people in government do nothing about it!”

“Then you didn’t hear what I said a minute ago—”

“Yeah, I heard what you said,” Andy says. “But I don’t see what you do! You guys come around and make all these promises, and then we don’t see you for four years!”

“Hey, you invited me,” he says to Andy. “If you want to hear my answer, I’m glad to tell you.” And he moves to shake someone else’s hand.

Andy mutters to a woman on his right, “Ah, they’re all bullshit artists.”

Ferrer wheels around. “Ahhh-ha!” he says. “Okay, thank you very much! You invited me here—but you don’t want to hear my speech. You want to make a speech!” An aide is whispering to Ferrer, “We need to go.”

“That guy had a right to be angry,” Ferrer says later. “Those are serious problems. And I was willing to listen, until he went off the deep end. I know that housing, jobs, and the quality of the schools are almost universal issues in this city. But this kind of human-scale campaigning reminds you there’s a human face in front of every problem.” Now all Ferrer needs are attractive solutions. Angry Andy isn’t the only voter unsatisfied with his answers so far—or uncharmed by Ferrer’s occasional peevishness.

Anthony Weiner
Three hours later, one candidate’s seat is empty at a forum sponsored by the National Organization for Women. The fourth person in the field, Anthony Weiner, has a day job representing a slice of Brooklyn and Queens in Congress, and often misses weekday campaign events. Tonight he’s stuck on Capitol Hill until midnight, waiting for budget votes.

Which makes Weiner’s weekends particularly frenetic. On the Saturday after Miller joked with Brooklyn commuters, Fields congratulated Bronx students, and Ferrer jousted with Greenwich Village seniors, Weiner races between three Queens high-school graduations, a Flag Day ceremony, and a Brooklyn street fair, then zips over to Staten Island. The Metropolitan Opera is presenting a concert performance of Samson et Dalila inside the minor-league baseball stadium that’s home to the Staten Island Yankees. “Beautiful night, free concert, and it’s Staten Island,” says Weiner, who is slightly more moderate on issues than his three Democratic rivals. “Should be a big crowd.”