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Christie's charisma is already a force

Biting and blunt, he revels in the public side of politics - unlike the man he'll replace.

New Jersey's governor-elect Chris Christie is greeted as he joins a gathering of mayors in Toms River, N.J. (AP Photo/Mel Evans)
New Jersey's governor-elect Chris Christie is greeted as he joins a gathering of mayors in Toms River, N.J. (AP Photo/Mel Evans)Read more

When Gov.-elect Christopher J. Christie promised to bring change to Trenton, he usually was talking about cutting taxes and spending.

It will be two months before he can formally start that task, but it's already clear that Christie will bring a starkly different personal style to New Jersey's top political office.

In public appearances since Election Day, Christie has been blunt, funny, pugnacious, decisive, and, above all, forceful. He has been comfortable joking with teens and mingling with politicians, in control when dealing with the press, and defiant toward opponents and detractors.

Christie's words seem to barrel downhill toward his audience. His answers, often short on detail, are long on punch.

Take, for example, his comments a day after his victory, when he toured a Newark charter school and talked up his plans for education.

"If anybody thinks I'm kidding about this, they're going to watch. I am not going to continue to allow urban children to be failed and cheated by failing public schools," Christie told reporters.

When he said the "forces" against reform were powerful, he was asked to clarify: Did he mean the teachers union, which had blitzed the state with anti-Christie mailers after he declined even to seek its endorsement?

"That's exactly who I'm talking about," he said.

Christie's public persona is a sharp contrast to that of Gov. Corzine, who often has been fumbling in the spotlight and meandering in his speech, leaving the public and lawmakers to parse his words for possible meanings.

The two are scheduled to share a podium Thursday for the first time since Election Day, when each will speak at the New Jersey State League of Municipalities convention in Atlantic City.

Christie "is very straightforward, very direct, very blunt, and very New Jersey," said State Sen. Bill Baroni (R., Mercer), a close ally. "That bluntness and directness is exactly what we need right now."

Baroni added that "there will be no need to read the tea leaves to figure out what Chris Christie thinks."

The professorial Corzine struggled to distill his message and deep policy knowledge into snappy sound bites. He shut down state government in a budget fight early in his term, but after that mostly opted for compromise over confrontation. And he revealed little of his personal side or self-deprecating sense of humor in public.

Gov. Rendell said his Garden State counterpart was inherently shy and didn't have the same "zest" for wading into crowds as other politicians. He recalled having to urge Corzine early in his career to banter with people on the Ocean City boardwalk.

"That not only hurts you as a campaigner, it hurts you a little in the governing process. You don't build up a 'credible' bank or a 'likable' bank with your constituents," Rendell said.

When you have 30 seconds in a news report to promote your ideas, "you really have to crystallize them," he said.

Newark Mayor Cory Booker, who has ties to both Corzine and Christie, said politics required both the "prose" of "churning out real substantive results" and the "poetry" of reaching the public.

"You have to find a way to boldly and authentically be yourself," Booker said.

Christie has not been shy about himself. His love of the New York Mets and New Jersey superstar Bruce Springsteen is renowned. He has joked about his family and their reactions to his win, telling high schoolers that his son now wants to be dropped off behind school so as not to be embarrassed by his father's security entourage.

Christie, a former securities lawyer who sometimes argued before appeals panels, had to be prepared, organized, and articulate, said Bill Palatucci, a friend, political ally, and former law partner.

"You've got to know your topic, anticipate questions you're going to get, and be able to think and speak on your feet," Palatucci said. And a little showmanship doesn't hurt, in court or politics. "Chris has a little bit of flair in him, yes."

Christie got his warm and humorous side from his Irish father and a passionate, direct side from his late Italian mother, Palatucci said.

As U.S. attorney, Christie filled bombastic news conference after news conference with verbal fireworks promoting his corruption cases.

"It's been six years doing this job, and I thought I could no longer be surprised by a combination of brazenness, arrogance, and stupidity," Christie told reporters in September 2007 after a corruption sweep led to 11 arrests. "But the people elected in this state continue to defy description."

Christie relished the praise that came with his job, but he remembers, and bristles at, the slights. He said he doesn't hold grudges, but he clearly uses criticism as fuel.

On the cool, gray Thursday after he won, Christie walked the streets of Woodbridge, a traditionally Democratic bastion that had tipped into his column, eagerly greeting voters at pizzerias and diners. As reporters watched, Christie turned to one and said twice, "I told you I would do it." He didn't think the press believed he could win.

Born in Newark and raised in Livingston, Christie has said throughout the campaign that his combative attitude came from his being a true product of New Jersey. Part of New Jerseyans' charm, he said, comes from the chips on their shoulders.

Opponents saw Christie's volatility as a potential weakness for someone trying to become a statesman. Democrats circulated a video, with little context, that showed Christie rolling his eyes as a cancer survivor questioned his health-care plans.

When he was U.S. attorney, Christie had to apologize after calling the respected chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee a "third-rate bureaucrat." Christie was angry that the Senate had delayed the appointment of one of his former deputies, Stuart Rabner, as attorney general.

As governor, Christie risks coming off like an easily riled bully if his temper gets the better of him. In the campaign, however, he deftly parried attacks about a highly sensitive topic: his weight.

Accusing the governor of fighting dirty, he turned the issue against Corzine, then played it for laughs. On Don Imus' radio show, Christie accused Corzine of "wussing out" by hinting at his weight in ads without saying it directly, then joked that he had spurred the economy by creating jobs at Dunkin' Donuts.

It has, perhaps, been easy to banter and make big pronouncements since his win. Christie has yet to begin the hard work of negotiations, compromise, and debate. Tough talk may convey strength and build support for his initiatives, but Christie will be judged on how well he delivers tax relief, not quotes.

With an eye toward moving his agenda, the governor-elect has embraced the state's political establishment in a way Corzine never did. He went to Newark the day after his election to appear with three powerful Democrats, including Booker.

The mayor, who campaigned for Corzine and continues to praise him, also built a friendship with Christie as they worked to fight crime in the city. The men trade text messages, showing an easy rapport that few in state politics established with Corzine.

In Woodbridge the next day, Christie palled around with Mayor John McCormac, a Democrat who was treasurer in Gov. Jim McGreevey's administration, which Christie has sharply criticized.

McCormac, now on Christie's transition team, oversaw the state budget when officials handed out "MAC" grants, controversial earmarks Christie zeroed in on to convict former State Sen. Wayne R. Bryant (D., Camden). It was the kind of excess Christie vowed to fight when he campaigned as a political outsider.

Since then, Christie - who must work with a Democratic Legislature - has taken a pragmatic stand. He says he will work with anyone who has proved effective, and called McCormac a person "who has gotten things done."

After they toured Main Street, the two stopped outside the Reo, a beloved Woodbridge diner, to field questions from reporters. Surrounded by cameras, microphones, and notebooks, Christie called reporters by their first names, imposing measures of familiarity and control on the typically free-flowing "gaggle."

He was asked how he had won the Democratic town.

"I think it's my endearing personality," Christie cracked. "I think that's what it is, and my devastating good looks."

Asked about battles he is likely to face in office, Christie said he hoped for cooperation but was ready to fight when needed. He has vowed to use the bully pulpit to push his agenda.

"Failure is not part of my vocabulary, and I'm not going to fail," Christie said with typical bravado.