What we see of Kevin is not what we are going to get. Be afraid, very afraid. When voters are fed up with Kevin then it's curtains, when the media are fed up with Kevin it's political death
WHEN you board the VIP RAAF 737 carrying Opposition Leader Tony Abbott around the country this election campaign, it's like stepping back in time to an era when plane travel was still glamorous. There are huge blue leather seats, wood panelling, a carpeted hush and hors d'oeuvres before takeoff.
But best of all are the charming RAAF flight attendants. They whip out crisp white tablecloths to serve delicious chicken caesar wraps with Petaluma Riesling, and bustle around efficiently all flight.
How a Prime Minister accorded such privileges could reduce one of these charming young women to tears for serving the wrong meal is just one of the many mysteries of Kevin Rudd.
One way or the other, these mysteries should be revealed after September 7, especially the question of how valuable, in electoral terms, is what Rudd likes privately to call the "Me Factor".
If you measure a candidate by the logistical execution of their campaign, then so far, according to the travelling media pack, the Abbott camp wins, hands down.
"Chaos" and "late" are the two words most frequently used to describe Rudd's campaign.
On Monday afternoon for instance, camera crews were told to assemble at Circular Quay for a Prime Ministerial picture opportunity.
After waiting more than 90 minutes, during which time Rudd conducted an interview with the ABC's youth radio station Triple J, the waiting crews were told he would not be arriving. No explanation.
No one expects sympathy for the media. But there is talk of other, far less forgivable delays, such as Aborigines in Arnhem land kept waiting for three hours for Rudd to arrive for a brief stump speech, soldiers in full kit in Townsville languishing for two hours in 35 degree heat.
The delays are chronic and inexplicable, often involving Rudd sitting in his VIP RAAF jet.
There are stories of RAAF crews and AFP officers left cooling their heels on tarmacs all over the nation, delays which play havoc with rosters.
Even the one night Rudd put on media drinks at a pub in Townsville, he didn't arrive till 10.30pm, by which stage some of the media, who had been up since 5am, had given up waiting and gone to bed.
Rudd's tardiness has become such a hallmark of his campaign that one photographer created an online video called Waiting for Kevin, showing people standing around, just waiting.
These may seem like small quibbles in the context of an important federal election, but the logistical differences between the two campaigns are a clue to each candidate's temperament and leadership style.
With most media alternating weeks in each campaign, the contrasts are stark.
It probably didn't hurt the mood on the Abbott media plane that they were fed oysters on a flight out of Tasmania, though the usual fare is Up&Go drinks and a big jar of mixed nuts passed around the bus.
But the real difference between the two campaigns is organisation and punctuality, the hallmarks of the Abbott campaign.,
Of course it helps that Abbott has kept largely the same personnel (48 of 50) for the last four years.
They are battle hardened campaigners, with one election under their belts. Rudd's campaign has a mixture of Gillard and Swan staffers along with Rudd loyalists, all working professionally to a common goal, but with less cohesion and corporate memory. In addition, Abbott, by contrast to Rudd, is " a routine man", who tends to keep predictable hours and stick to his schedule.
This has endeared him to the AFP officers assigned to his "close personal protection", since they know he will go to the gym at 5am, and be back in his room by 6am taking phone calls.
But nothing about modern election campaigns is normal. They are a series of media events, tightly choreographed by staffers who look like Ryan Gosling. Real locals are sometimes given speaking parts, designed to help the candidate showcase messages of the day, and provide matching images for the nightly TV news. And everywhere the candidate goes, he is encased by a wall of cameras and fluffy microphones on poles.
People slip into roles. Candidate. Journalist. Staffer. Public. And somewhere, democracy is supposed to be served.
Abbott doesn't elicit the high-charged "selfie" popularity from the public that propelled Rudd back into the prime ministership. But as he moves through marginal seats and is photographed in factories with blue collar workers and apprentices in high visibility vests, he is gradually eating his way into Labor heartland.
Despite the momentum he has gained in the polls and the stories of cracks in Rudd's campaign, Abbott says he has a healthy respect for his opponent, because no one becomes Prime Minister of a serious country without being a "substantial" person.
That may have been the nicest thing said about Rudd all week.
