PENCER - Jack E. Robinson is walking down another empty hallway in another empty town hall. The Senate candidate's tour of all 351 Massachusetts communities has coincided, it turns out, with vacation season. So he strides past rows of closed doors, calling, ''Anybody home in Spencer,'' just as he tugged on the locked doors of New Braintree Town Hall, shouting, ''Anybody home,'' and wandered past Warren town offices muttering, ''Somebody's got to be around somewhere in here.''
This might be a metaphor for Robinson's long-shot campaign against US Senator Edward M. Kennedy. Try as he might, Robinson can't get noticed by even the smallest powers that be.
But there's another side to his quest, which emerges when Robinson finally encounters human beings. That's when he gets broad smiles of recognition, greetings of ''I saw you on TV,'' and words of encouragement for staying in the race. If the political establishment and the press don't consider him a contender, some people on the street clearly do.
Whatever Robinson's early struggles have cost him - in support from state Republicans, respect from the media, money spent on legal battles - they have earned him something immeasurable. He is widely recognized by a public that pays scant attention to politics, widely known as the man who wasn't supposed to be on the ballot, but is.
And so his dogged candidacy poses a dilemma for the news outlets and civic organizations who might otherwise have written him off: When do you stop treating the man like an oddity and start treating him like a legitimate candidate?
It's a question that reaches beyond Robinson's campaign and touches on the way the press and public-interest groups view their role in the democratic process. At a time when most congressional incumbents have no challengers - and Massachusetts' delegation faces mostly token opposition - some are cheering Robinson's candidacy for its mere existence.
''We would like people to have choice in every election,'' said Nancy Carapezza, president of the League of Women Voters of Massachusetts.
And some critics say the media, the chief vehicle for public debate, must give challengers as broad a forum as possible.
''I think you have to cover the challenger thoroughly, even if he or she doesn't have a chance of winning,'' said Peter Pritchard, the former USA Today editor who is president of the Freedom Forum.
But when it comes to the mechanics of covering the Kennedy-Robinson race - whether, for example, to sponsor a debate - news outlets find themselves trying to find the line between encouraging voter choice and judging news value.
Matthew V. Storin, editor of the Globe, said he hasn't heard of any discussions about gathering a media consortium to sponsor debates, but added: ''I personally think debates are good for the democratic process, whether or not a race is close, so I would expect we will at least have those discussions before long.''
Charlie Kravetz, news director of New England Cable News, said, ''Usually, there's such an interest, the issue is not whether, but who will get to participate.'' He said his organization will only devote as much time to the Robinson campaign as events seem to warrant.
''I think we're trying to cover the candidacy as seriously as it plays out,'' Kravetz said. ''How much will kind of be determined by whether or not Mr. Robinson gets some traction.''
That's the key difference between 2000 and 1994, when Kennedy fended off a strong challenge from venture capitalist Mitt Romney. Then, the media covered the campaign daily and sponsored two widely-watched televised debates. But the race was filled with action, a sense of competition, and a steady flow of money. By August, both candidates were making well-orchestrated campaign appearances and spending hundreds of thousands of dollars on advertising.
This time around, Kennedy is barely acknowledging that he has a challenger. Spokesman Will Keyser said Kennedy will spend most of September on Senate business and won't campaign aggressively until October. And he said the campaign wouldn't address the subject of debates until the election draws nearer.
That leaves the media in the awkward position of covering a race that seems so lopsided that it's only marginally newsworthy. Still, some critics warn against the temptation to decide a race is over before it has begun.
''How do you know when a candidate has gone from not being viable to being viable?'' said Aly Colon, a journalism ethics adviser at the Poynter Institute. ''I think you've got to go and cover the candidate. The danger we face is that we have decided what the story is before the story has been told.''
This is the challenge Robinson faces as he continues his statewide tour, putting hundreds of miles each day on his burgundy Cadillac Deville. He must convince the public and the press that his candidacy is real and worthy of attention.
And he has to do it with a shoestring operation. So far, Robinson has one employee, plus a full-time volunteer lined up to start after Labor Day. He's vague about his finances, saying he'll put ''a couple hundred thousand'' of his own funds into the race.
Robinson also says he has sent out about 20,000 fund-raising letters, but hasn't concentrated of the effort. ''The people I would call are all on vacation,'' he said.
The tactic, so far, is to hit the grass-roots, visiting even the smallest of towns, shaking hands with people in municipal buildings, post offices, and gathering places. Robinson tries to hit as many as 20 towns per day, a formidable task that sometimes means a visit doesn't last much longer than five minutes.
In West Brookfield last week, he talked to two people in the town office building, raced to a local tavern to drop off a bumper sticker, and then headed back to his car, saying, ''All right, what's our next town?''
Robinson never tries to draw a crowd; he mainly alerts local newspapers to his visits. He tells people he'll return ''to do some real campaigning'' in the fall. When strangers ask him if he thinks he can win, he always answers, ''yes.''
''No one thinks we have a chance, but we think we'll sneak up in the end,'' he told some curious New Yorkers two weeks ago, on a campaign tour of Hyannis.
It's an optimistic view, but then, this is a man who can put a positive spin on anything. Standing in the John F. Kennedy Museum in Hyannis, surrounded by pictures of the Kennedy family, Robinson found a bit of history to serve his needs: the fact that in 1952 few expected then-US Representative John F. Kennedy to defeat Senator Henry Cabot Lodge.
And when he boldly knocked on doors in Hyannis Port - bypassing the Kennedy compound, where the signs said, ''Private Drive'' - Robinson was cheered to learn that the neighborhood is actually full of Republicans. ''We may take Hyannis Port yet!'' he said.
Robinson had the same sunny outlook last week, as he rode across the hills of central Massachusetts. He waved at surveyors and teenagers on the side of the road, who sometimes waved back and sometimes looked baffled. He strode confidently through municipal buildings, sneakers on his feet and a stack of bumper stickers in the rear pocket of his khakis.
And he got the occasional payoff: In Warren, resident Denie Tuttle spotted ''Robinson'' bumper stickers on the candidate's car and ran over to get a handful.
But Tuttle also mused about why state Representative David H. Tuttle, Republican of Barre but no relation to Denie Tuttle, hasn't been involved in the race. ''I was hoping he'd bring you around, 'cause he knows everybody,'' Denie Tuttle said.
David Tuttle had a simple response: ''He's never called and asked me. I didn't even know he was in my district.''
The state representative said he wishes Robinson had been in touch; he'd like to ask some questions over a cup of coffee, and he's willing to listen to what Robinson has to say.
''I don't know if he's just going to assume that because the party leadership doesn't support him, the rank and file doesn't,'' Tuttle said.
Campaign as he might, he will never have the institutional support that serves as something of a Good Housekeeping seal of legitimacy.
Brian Cresta, chairman of the state GOP, said last week that he ''will absolutely give Jack Robinson his credit for waging a fierce battle to get on the ballot.'' But he said there are no plans to change the party's position.
The GOP and Governor Paul Cellucci abandoned Robinson after disclosure of several incidents about his past, including a restraining order taken out against him that was later withdrawn. The controversies made it difficult for Robinson to gather the 10,000 signatures needed to gain a spot on the ballot, but he prevailed after a legal battle.
Robinson's only chance, it seems, is to reach around the party structure to face the voters directly. And even that poses a challenge. Those who applaud his tenacity and honestly wish him good luck are still reluctant to commit to him.
James Eldorado Anderson is a case in point. The Roxbury art teacher spotted Robinson in Mashpee this month and rushed across the street to greet him. ''I recognized him, and I wanted to come over and praise him for his endurance,'' Anderson said.
But when asked whether Robinson had won his vote, Anderson hedged. ''Anything's possible,'' he said. ''Why don't we put it like that?''
