And nobody was more surprised than Harris, the Socialist Workers Party candidate for president, when someone in a local picket line actually spoke up when they recognized his face.

"My usual benchmark is getting on the news, but it was good to have somebody recognize me," Harris said with a laugh.

Because his day gig sees Harris toiling away as a laborer in an Atlanta garment warehouse, he isn't recognized much. So when Harris, 52, appeared in Pittsburgh for a campaign stop, he was aiming more at getting his off-kilter ideas across than garnering votes.

He's accustomed to occupying the cellar of the executive office race, walking in the same improbable footsteps once reserved for the likes of comedian Pat Paulsen and self-proclaimed Idiot Party leader (and tone-deaf rock singer) Screaming Lord Sutch.

Harris is lucky to have a healthy sense of humor. He needs one to run on a platform of ideas that most of the country considers about as dated as The Spice Girls.

It's news itself that Harris has a sense of humor because Socialist humorists are as scarce as sunbathers on the frozen tundra.

Though Harris didn't offer any "two comrades in the international struggle walk into a bar" jokes, he did manage to laugh about the size of his crowd at Carson Street's Pathfinder Book Store (just under 20).

"It wasn't a George Bush or Al Gore-sized crowd, but they were receptive," he said.

A sense of humor also came in handy when, for instance, in 1996 the party tallied some 8,700 votes for president. Those are not bad numbers for a city councilman, but just plain lousy for a man with Pennsylvania Avenue pretentions.

Still, Harris was drawn to Pittsburgh because of what he called the city's history of "ongoing labor problems." True to form for a Socialist, the must-see campaign stops for Harris included a picket line filled with striking workers from Verizon Communications.

There are few targets for a Socialist's condemnation of capitalism as easy as union workers on strike - it's akin to an NRA-backed candidate holding a rally in the woods on the first day of buck season.

So it was no surprise when Harris said the workers greeted him with a very friendly reception. They listened intently to his campaign speech, though there's a fair chance their rapt attention was due to how boring picket lines usually are.

What keeps Harris going, he says, are the rewards of just talking to working people, especially those who are less than satisfied with how their careers and finances have progressed.

Selling disenchantment during the nation's longest sustained economic boom - a boom that's even touched Pittsburgh for a change - is tough work. It's got to be an uphill struggle convincing people to overthrow the government when they're riding to work in $30,000 sport utility vehicles, eating designer ice cream and watching big-screen TVs.

Tough work, but I'm sure Pat Paulsen would have understood.

Mike Seate is a staff writer for the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review.
He can be reached at (412) 320-7845.