01:00 AM EDT on Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Notes from the Linc Chafee-Steve Laffey Republican Senate primary. Friday, April 7.

I'm in Barrington, en route to work, circa 7:20 a.m. I'm mulling the East Greenwich evening fundraiser Chafee is to have with former Senate colleague Fred Thompson, the 6'6" actor on television's Law & Order.

And, look! In front of the Congregational Church on County Road, a major commuter route, there's Cranston Mayor Laffey. Aides sport blue and yellow signs, such as "Honk if you love Laffey!" He holds one that says, "I'm Laffey."

He's in jeans and a Cranston police jacket. Been here since 6:30. Basks in the attention. But it's time to leave and, oh, wait now, when I pull in he lingers so I can catch his act. He also gives me a tour of his new 31-foot Thor Chateau RV, the "Rhody Reformer," festooned with campaign signs.

It stirs memories for me of the Winnebago that belonged to then-Gov. Ed DiPrete. He was a crook, but who knew, and the Winnebago was great copy. With snow coming, DiPrete parked it one night at the State House, and in the morning when I asked what he'd had for breakfast, he reached up and showed me a box of Hostess doughnuts. A regular guy, no?

Laffey bought the 2006 RV for $61,000 to make campaigning easier for him, his wife, Kelly, and the five children, whose ages he reports as "17 (years old), 10, 9, 2, and 7 months, probably 8 months now."

The early morning sign-waving is meant to signal he'll work hard for you. I find his attire unsenatorial. (Restaurateur Bob Burke happens by and asks if Laffey would like him to run home and get a chainsaw to complete the look.) But the mayor accuses me of being patrician. "I'm a working class kid from Cranston, R.I., son of a toolmaker," says the man who amassed a fortune in the world of high finance. "This is how I campaign and people like it."

They hand me a few pieces of Laffy Taffy -- a campaign staple -- and I go on my way.

Later, at the Chafee fundraiser that Al and Lauren Greer host at their elegant East Greenwich digs, the fare is more upscale: colossal shrimp, miniature lobster cakes -- you know, like crab cakes -- and hors d'oeuvres of beef tenderloin with Bearnaise sauce.

Former Tennessee Senator Thompson says Chafee is the Republicans' best bet to keep the Rhode Island seat in GOP hands and that, in a Republican Senate, it helps the state to have a GOP member.

Fine, but how does it help Rhode Islanders to have a Republican Senate?

"Well, if Rhode Island was voting for the entire Senate, I guess that would be an issue," Thompson tells me. "I'd have to think about that. But I can tell you how it helps them to have a Republican senator!"

He chuckles over his evasive answer.

I say, "What an actor you are!"

He says, "I've been accused of worse -- but not much worse."

I note that he had gone from being an actor to politician to actor. It's all the same, right?

"No, I don't think so," he says. "In the first place, actors get paid more." But more gravely, he says, "In politics you're shooting with real bullets. It's a serious business." He says he wanted to do his part to serve the country and that Chafee has the same dedication.

Governor Carcieri and his wife, Sue, fans of Law & Order, are at the party.

I ask the governor, a relative newcomer to the electoral wars, "Haven't you found that acting and being a politician is the same thing?"

"No, no," he insists. "If you find me acting, tell me."

OK, Governor, I will.

M. Charles Bakst is The Journal's political columnist.

mbakst@projo.com / (401) 277-7638