A long-shot candidate has his media moment

DEBATE AND SWITCH Presidential aspirant Mike Gravel in South Carolina

"That's him!" says a Today show producer. All eyes focus on an old-fashioned Checker cab coming up Broadway, an odd relic in the teeming New York City traffic. It's a bright Thursday afternoon and dozens of sign-carrying supporters are gathered at the main entrance of Columbia University. They begin clapping and whooping for their new favorite presidential candidate—a 77-year-old most of them hadn't even heard of a week before.

"All I know is that if I can get up to double digits, it's Katie bar the door!"NBC has taken an interest as well. A crew is on hand to film the rally for the network's morning show and its 5.3 million viewers. "Wait! Is he driving?" wonders one of the supporters. As the Checker gets closer, the white-haired man behind the wheel waves at the crowd and smiles a broad politician's smile. He is driving. Newsweek columnist and occasional Today correspondent Jonathan Alter is riding in the back seat, looking a little green. It turns out the two got in a fender bender on the way uptown. The Checker's brakes went out on Madison Avenue, and Gravel rear-ended another cabbie. But, with no injuries and after consulting a mechanic, they'd pushed on.

Five decades ago the candidate was a real-life New York cab driver working at night to put himself through Columbia, but it hardly shows now. For his arrival shot he's supposed to pull onto the sidewalk in front of the school's iron gates. It ends up requiring a couple of tries and temporarily blocks the flow of traffic on Broadway. If anything, the crowd only becomes more enthusiastic and swarms him when he gets out of the car. Driving skills are apparently irrelevant in a dark-horse populist.

The wave of popularity that Mike Gravel, an ex-senator from Alaska, has ridden out of the first Democratic presidential debate, held on April 26 in South Carolina, has been remarkable and unexpected. When the cameras started rolling, he was the one utterly obscure candidate of the eight on stage, having kept his distance from politics since 1980 and (in his own words) "hiding under a rock" for much of the interim. Ninety minutes later, he was a sensation. He'd been smashing: hilarious and provocative in just the right balance. (For a highlight reel, click here.) "You people scare me!" he'd hollered at his rivals, calling out Barack Obama in particular for seeming to consider the option of using nuclear weapons against Iran. He'd made a slam dunk comment about Joe Biden's arrogance and decried the military-industrial complex as a cancer on American culture. In his eyes, the war on terror was as bogus and illogical as the war on drugs. Blogs and MySpace pages were instantly abuzz with approving messages. Producers from the Situation Room, Hardball, and The Colbert Report came calling. And, as final proof that his appeal was not limited to online devotees of fringe politics, Today, the most-watched news show in America and staple of white-bread middle-brow programming, had decided to profile him. A question looms for Gravel, though: As much as the media mob gobbles up his antics, will it tolerate a real political bombthrower when he's no longer a novelty?

CHECKERED PAST Gravel takes the Today show for a ride

After getting out of the cab and shaking everyone's hand, former Senator Gravel leads the rally over to the steps of Low Library in the middle of campus, where he gives them a sneak preview of his plan to end the Iraq war. While congressional Democrats claim they're trying to end it, Gravel dismisses their efforts as worthless. "Pelosi introduced a resolution," he explains. "You know what a resolution is? That's like taking a poll. We need to pass a law!" The producers have carefully arranged the students on the steps so that they fill the frame in front of him, and a boom mic hovers behind him as he talks. He's wearing a pastel silk shirt, slacks, and a pair of black shoes with Velcro straps—a style concession for someone at an age where finger dexterity is not what it once was.

Despite his advanced years, the ex-senator doesn't lack for boldness. The law he proposes to end the war would make it a felony for the president to keep troops in Iraq after a 60-day withdrawal period. He envisions calling for a daily vote in Congress in a multi-month campaign until enough Republicans wither under the political pressure to override the inevitable veto—and "they will, because politicians generally are gutless." In addition to ending the war, the law would also prove that there is a new sheriff in town in American politics. "The sooner we put some of our leaders in jail for what they do to the people, the sooner we stop [them] from doing [those things]," he says. "Now they break the law wantonly." He announces that he is working on setting up a meeting with Pelosi's people to discuss the option.

The Today producer seems less interested in the plan to criminalize the president's conduct than in getting some footage of the candidate interacting with the students. "Let's move on," he says.

One young man raises his hand and begins by pronouncing Gravel's name like the word for loose fragments of rock. "Gra-VEL!" the candidate corrects him forcefully, with a wide smile and an inflection that reveals his French-Canadian heritage. The student nods and continues, "Who would make the most formidable Republican opponent?"

"I'd love to get my hands on any one of 'em!" the candidate booms. He makes a faint throttling gesture. "I'll eat 'em alive! They're warmongers!" The students clap, and after another softball question the mini-media event is over.