The following op-ed is the first of a three-part series.
Dunedin, Florida — He's boring.
He has a distaste for glad-handing.
He's charmless.
One by one, media figures look through their telescope at Gov. Ron DeSantis, R-Fla., and dutifully echo the judgment. But watching DeSantis work in person leaves a different impression entirely.
DeSantis is chatting with his constituents along a walking trail in his hometown when Kimberly Baldwin catches sight of him standing on a pathway in a local park and is moved to tears when DeSantis stops talking midsentence to chat with her.
"Hi, Kimberly. How are you doing?"
"Amazing, now that I've met you," Baldwin says.
The two talk about her return to their mutual hometown of Dunedin after living in Miami. Her father, she says, is the deputy sheriff in nearby Land O' Lakes, and she recently decided to go back to college.
Then she timidly asks for a hug.
DeSantis doesn't hesitate, and Baldwin lists the two things she admires most about his governing: his decision to "act with conviction" when reopening the state during the pandemic and his decisiveness in response last September to Hurricane Ian, one of the deadliest and most destructive storms to hit Florida in nearly 100 years.
The encounter was one of the dozens with constituents and tourists amused to begin their Thursday morning randomly running into the governor.
At the same time, DeSantis is getting shade in his home state from the two top political powerhouses in both parties.
Twenty miles away in Tampa, President Joe Biden is trying to shame him at a campaign event over healthcare spending.
A little farther from home, former President Donald Trump is on social media lobbing insults at "Ron DeSanctimonious" and spreading unfounded insinuations about his days as a teacher.
Both men eye him as a threat to their White House ambitions. DeSantis hasn't said he's running, but he shared his thoughts about the former president's antics bluntly.
"Look, I have the responsibility to govern a state, and I've got to focus on delivering results. I've also got to protect the people against Biden's policies, and so when I'm getting in fights, I'm fighting Biden," he began.
The governor stressed that his concern is not merely for his own prospects but for the party as a whole: "I want other Republicans to do well. I don't want any Republican to do poorly, so I'm not in a situation where taking potshots against other Republicans is something that I think is beneficial.
"I think get it done, keep your eye on the ball, and just keep delivering results and fighting back against the Biden administration," he said.
It is an answer that has kept him above the fray — and left a press hungry for a fight between the two unsatisfied.
DeSantis said his constituents have mostly stopped asking if he's going to run, as though that question has already been answered. Supporters in his home state and across the country encourage him to take the leap.
"People basically say, 'Well, yeah, you got to do it,' so it's funny. It's interesting with the whole COVID stuff. As that was happening and we got into the fall, particularly after November '22, people just started creating this [presidential campaign-style] merchandise.
"I had nothing to do with any of it," he said of the interest that bubbled up during the pandemic when he reopened Florida businesses and schools early on, as well as his opposition to mandatory vaccinations and masks.
That interest accelerated among Republican primary voters after he made history in the midterm elections when he defeated Rep. Charlie Crist, D-Fla., by a whopping 19 percentage points, winning 62 of Florida's 67 counties, including deep blue and highly populated Miami-Dade by 11 points.
He is a little taken aback by his growing popularity among the conservative base and how widespread it is: "It's not just in Florida. It's also coming from Washington state, Alabama, all over the place, and I look at that. I'm like, 'Wow.' They're just responding to what I've done. It's not like I've ever campaigned in these places. It's pretty neat. People have been great."
He gets out of his car and heads to his favorite hometown haunt. Flannigan's is packed with locals and tourists who have heard through word of mouth that he's home and might stop by to say hi to the owners.
Within minutes, he is surrounded by hundreds of well-wishers.
He steps onto an elevated area to give a quick speech, then heads to his parents' house to pick up his wife, Casey, and their three children to take in the Florida State Fair in Tampa.
"One of the things I liked about doing these fairs, especially that first year of COVID, and I'd ask, 'Hey, can I get a couple hot dogs,' and I'd try to pay and the vendors would say, 'I am not taking your money. I would be out of business if it wasn't for you,'" he said.
He said finding himself in a position to do something that saved livelihoods was meaningful for him.
"I think their appreciation was born not just of the fact of what I did, but they understood that I was cutting against the grain, and no one was really standing up for them but me and I was way out on a limb," he said.
"People in Florida appreciated that because they're like, 'Look, we were looking at going bankrupt, and you saved the day for us,' and so it was really genuine appreciation."
(A related article may be found here.)
Salena Zito has held a long, successful career as a national political reporter. She worked for the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review for 11 years, and has interviewed every U.S. president and vice president since 1992, as well as other top D.C. leaders. She joined the New York Post in September 2016, and acts as a CNN political analyst, and also as a reporter and columnist for the Washington Examiner. Read Salena Zito's Reports — More Here.