t's not as if they actually expect to win.
Make no mistake: Election to the US Senate would be a welcome surprise for Dale Friedgen, Philip Hyde, and Philip Lawler. But these third-party candidates, with little money and no major-party stamps of approval, understand perfectly well the odds against them.
The mainstream media has hardly acknowledged their presence, and neither has Senator Edward M. Kennedy. Based on the latest University of Massachusetts poll, their best hope is to split the 10 percent ''don't know'' vote and the 3 percent ''refuse to tell'' vote. So with a surprise win seeming somewhat unlikely, these candidates are focusing on smaller goals instead.
For Friedgen, it's recognition for the Natural Law Party goals of stress reduction and scientific problem-solving. For Lawler, it's building a base for the Conservative Party, a right-wing alternative to the moderate state Republicans. For Hyde, it's a forum for the unconventional economic ideas he sums up as: Timesizing Not Downsizing.
They come from the left, from the right, from somewhere in the ether, with little in common except a frustration with the two-party system and a conviction that a third-party vote is not a mistake. If you vote for a major party, Friedgen says, ''that's a wasted vote. In fact, I would go one step farther and say that's a destructive vote.''
With that in mind, they are campaigning tirelessly, trying to sell their views on Web sites and talk radio. Lawler and Hyde have taken leaves from work to concentrate on the election. Lawler, the editor of a Catholic magazine, is meeting voters in small gatherings, and running radio spots. Friedgen, who owns an auto-parts store, has made stops on the college circuit. Hyde, who describes himself as an ''economic designer,'' hosted a debate on a public-access cable channel, though only Friedgen attended.
It's depressing work at times, the candidates complain. Like shouting into the void. But in some ways, running a third-party race is the ultimate act of optimism. There's always a sliver of hope that you could spark a movement - even win. And if you don't, you can satisfy yourself with moderate success.
''Winning can mean different things,'' Lawler says. ''Three percent is a win, if we're able to raise issues that people hadn't been able to raise.''
Pushing a theory
Hyde has tried quixotic gestures before, this Toronto native who thinks of himself as a combination of Robin Williams, Don Rickles, and Tracey Ullman, and describes himself as ''a terminal Renaissance person.''
Hyde came to Massachusetts in the 1960s to study linguistics at Harvard and MIT, became a US citizen in 1982, and entered politics on a whim; at the suggestion of some old-timers, he ran for alderman-at-large in Somerville in 1995. He didn't do so well, but he ran again - in 1996, as the Republican challenger to US Representative Joseph P. Kennedy II.
Quixotic, yes. But Hyde had a plan. He had been honing his ''timesizing'' theory: the idea that, to provide enough jobs for everyone, the United States should limit the amount of time its citizens work each week, shrinking the week to ''whatever level we need to lower it to to absorb all our unemployment.'' He'd been wondering how he could ''get some media for this critical, central key to progress.''
What he got, it turns out, were free photocopying services at Republican headquarters. He lost, badly, but felt cheered anyway: ''I got 16 percent of the vote with $600, which was 1,000 times more votes per dollar than Joe Kennedy.''
A 1998 congressional run ended similarly for Hyde, who got 10 percent of the vote to Michael Capuano's 89 percent. But he was back again this year, free of both cash and Republican affiliation, collecting ballot signatures at ''really high-traffic supermarkets'' and feverishly hawking the timesizing idea.
He's been promoting his ideas in other forums, as well: a Web site, a paperback book, and a weekly show on Somerville Community Access cable.
''I often think that I'm just speaking in the air, but people mention it to me,'' he says. Slowly but surely, he's getting a name for himself.
Different approach
Friedgen's name might ring a bell with voters, too; He ran for Congress in 1994 and 1996, in the district then represented by Peter Blute. In his first run, he got 1 percent of the vote. The second time, he got 2 percent.
''It was disappointing, but then we ran a campaign with probably a quarter of a percent of the funds'' the major-party candidates used, Friedgen said. He says ''a lot of people began to hear that there's another choice.''
In truth, Friedgen, whose auto-parts store is in Maynard, doesn't have major problems with the incumbent.
So why is this mild-mannered, bespectacled, Nebraska-born vegetarian running for office? He figures the Natural Law Party can do it better, and says Kennedy is ''part of a system that is so flawed that there's really little he can do of substance.''
The Natural Law Party platform calls for some things the mainstream parties have mentioned: renewable energy, publicly financed elections, safety testing for genetically engineered foods. It also recommends some more unusual ideas, such as using transcendental meditation to rehabilitate criminals. To ease the Middle East crisis, Friedgen suggests taking 7,000 people from the region and teaching them stress-reduction techniques.
''It's not a conventional solution,'' Friedgen concedes. ''But with all the lives lost, all the suffering, don't you think it's time to try something unconventional if it's been proven by science?''
Conservative tack
The first unconventional aspect of Lawler's campaign is his telephone number: 1-877-DUMP-TED. For the most part, it's a conservative venture, fitting for a conservative man.
Unlike Friedgen, Lawler can't think of anything nice to say about Kennedy or his policies. But he also has few kind words for the Massachusetts Republicans. Lawler says he left the party fold several years ago ''as a matter of principle,'' disgusted by the party leaders' views on abortion and ''moral issues.''
His beliefs harken back to a different Republican era: He worked on Ronald Reagan's presidential campaigns, and for the Heritage Foundation in the early 1980s. He went on to edit several Catholic publications, and is now editor of Catholic World Report, an international news magazine.
Lawler didn't consider a run for office until 18 months ago, when he agreed to help some friends find a ''person of principle'' to challenge Kennedy, and wound up as the recruit.
''I'm not harming the Republicans' chance,'' Lawler says. ''You can go in there and vote for someone who doesn't excite you, or you can vote for me, and at least you've sent a message. ... You don't have the freedom to do that in a race that's really close.''
Besides, you never know what's going to happen. ''I have exactly the same chance of winning,'' he says, ''as everyone but Ted Kennedy.''
