Amy Klobuchar has survived a presidential campaign, countless Senate fights and a famously awkward salad story. What she may not survive, according to people who know her, is one more week of Minnesota political drama.
Alex Bruno called around the Twin Cities to find out why the state’s senior senator suddenly looks like someone counting the days to Christmas break.
Friends describe a woman who still loves the job but is exhausted by everything surrounding it. Minnesota has been in the national news for months, mostly for reasons nobody at the state capitol wants to talk about at dinner. Oversight hearings, finger pointing and endless press conferences have turned St. Paul into a reality show nobody signed up for.
Klobuchar isn’t a character in that show’s scandal plotline. But she lives in the same neighborhood, and the noise travels.
“She walks into a room to talk about farm policy, and the first question is about something she had nothing to do with,” a former aide said. “You can only smile through that so many times.”
Whenever a politician looks tired, the internet fills in the blanks. In Klobuchar’s case, the blanks have been filled with everything from a surprise retirement to a secret plan to run for governor.
None of it has come from her. Her schedule is full. Her staff is still sending emails about trade and veterans’ benefits at 11 p.m. Nobody has spotted moving boxes.
Still, the speculation keeps coming, partly because Minnesotans are polite people who never say what they actually think, so they whisper it online instead.
One longtime Democratic organizer told Bruno that the drama has made every officeholder in the state a little jumpy.
“Right now everyone’s checking their phones before they check the weather,” he said. “And in Minnesota, that’s saying something.”
He added that Klobuchar has handled it better than most. “She’s a pro. She’ll grumble in the car and then walk in smiling. But the grumbling is getting longer.”
Asked what Klobuchar would do with a free weekend, people who know her struggled to answer. One friend guessed she’d read three policy briefs and call it relaxing. Another said she might finally see a movie, as long as it was under two hours and had a clear message.
A third friend, laughing, said the real dream is simple. “A whole Saturday where nobody says the word Minnesota and then waits for her reaction.”
Ask her staff, and they’ll hand you a list of topics the senator would love to talk about instead. Prescription drug costs. Rural hospitals. Ticket fees for concerts, which she once took on with the energy most people save for their fantasy football league. She has a whole speech about broadband in northern Minnesota that, according to one aide, can bring a room to tears, mostly from boredom, but still. Instead, she gets asked about rumors.
“Imagine preparing for a test and the teacher only asks about the kid next to you,” the aide said. “Every single day.”
Is Klobuchar going anywhere? Nobody close to her thinks so, at least not soon. She’s tired, she’s annoyed, and she’s still showing up. In politics, that’s practically a description of the job.
But if the state’s political circus keeps rolling at this pace, don’t be surprised if she starts taking longer lunches.
Klobuchar’s office declined to comment on her mood, saying only that the senator “remains focused on the work.
