He took first place in an upset mayoral primary. Then he defeated Madison legend Paul Soglin. And now Madison is: Dave's World.
Prior to the mayoral campaign, Dave Cieslewicz was a relatively unknown face around Madison. Now he can't leave the house without running into people eager to rub elbows with the new mayor. Case in point: on his Thursday morning bus commute, the mayor sat unnoticed for a few minutes, but then a young black woman across the aisle introduced herself as Angela Rusell, an employee in the state's epidemiology lab.
\Do you go by Mayor Dave or Mayor Cieslewicz?"" she asked.
He shook his head.
""I usually go by Dave,"" he said.
The two made small talk for a while, and Angela told him how she voted for him partially for his stance on diversity issues and that she lives in one of the most diverse neighborhoods in Madison. Before she got off at her stop, she congratulated him on his election.
""I'm so glad you're mayor-don't disappoint us,"" she said.
And that is Cieslewicz's mission in a nutshell: to come through for all the people who chose him over legendary former Mayor Paul Soglin. He campaigned on the slogan ""New name, new ideas, new attitude."" Now it is time to produce on that promise, and he knows it.
""The biggest fear I have is letting those people down,"" he said. ""I don't want to let them down.""
Cieslewicz lives with his wife, Dianne, in a two-story yellow house on Eaton Ridge in the Regent Street neighborhood. The interior of their house is upscale but cozy, with wooden floors and shelves full of books in the living room. A deck at the back of the house overlooks a small yard and garden, in which a wooden sign reads ""Mayor's Mansion."" On the deck, Dianne keeps several potted plants, including two stalks of rhubarb that she rooted there, she said, because her husband kept mistaking them for weeds and cutting them down with the lawn mower.
The couple usually leaves the house at about the same time in the morning. Their bus riding is no publicity stunt; they only have one car so they either commute together or trade off riding the bus to and from work. Thursday morning Cieslewicz took the bus because he was participating in an environmental effort-the ""No car challenge""-for two weeks.
At about 7:50 a.m., he downed a glass of juice, kissed Dianne goodbye and walked to the bus stop, donning a faded red baseball cap on his way out the door.
He took the No. 19 to Capitol Square. After a quick stop at Starbucks for a tall House Blend, he set off for the City-County Building, 210 Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd., and the start of his workday.
The bulk of the mayor's day is taken up with the tedium of meetings, meetings and more meetings. He moves from one issue to the next throughout the day, discussing them with city staff, citizens and other officials.
""I certainly don't find it tedious because it's all interesting to me,"" he said, but admitted that sometimes day-to-day concerns distract him from making progress on agenda issues he campaigned on, such as creating more affordable housing and improving relations between the city and other branches of government.
After a blur of morning meetings about economic development, the defunct Kohl's grocery store on Madison's north side and a closed-door session with aides Melanie Conklin and LaMarr Billups, the mayor moved to a session on inclusionary zoning with city staffers Hickory Hurie, Brad Murphy, Linda Grubb and Jeanne Hoffman.
Of all the meetings during the day, Cieslewicz was most in command during this one. He is a self-described policy wonk, well-versed on the issue of land-use. At this meeting, he and the others focus primarily on how they can legally draft a mandatory inclusionary zoning ordinance, which they have dubbed the ""blue enchilada.""
Afterward, the mayor took about an hour of quiet time in his office to check his e-mail and look over paperwork. He then headed off to a luncheon at the Concourse Hotel, 1 W. Dayton St., honoring crime prevention by Dane County law enforcement. He ran into fellow luncheon guest and old friend Dane County Executive Kathleen Falk in the elevator. The two walked over the Concourse together, talking nonstop.
The afternoon passed in another cluster of meetings, including a briefing with UW-Madison Chancellor John Wiley and Madison Gas and Electric executives about the proposed West Campus Cogeneration Plant. Finally, at 5:30 p.m., the mayor was ready to leave the office, but he still had one more function to squeeze in-a reception in Sun Prairie with mayors from neighboring towns.
""The hardest word to say in this job is 'no,'"" Cieslewicz said. ""The hardest thing is having to say no to people you like.""
Chief of Staff Janet Piraino drove the mayor to the reception in his silver station wagon, which Dianne had left in the City-County Building parking garage that morning. Cieslewicz relaxed noticeably during the car ride, as though he was starting to unwind from the long day. He and Piraino jumped rapidly from one topic to the next, from their bad experiences driving city rental cars to the golf prowess of Piraino's former boss, U.S. Sen. Russ Feingold, D-Wis.
He hobnobbed with the other mayors for about a half hour at the supper club, sipping a Red Hook Blonde. Piraino congratulated him as they got back in the car.
""That went well,"" she said as they buckled their seat belts.
""Yep,"" he joked, ""I showed them I was a regular guy. Now I'm going to go home and eat quiche.""
Dianne had already eaten so Cieslewicz dropped Piraino off at the City-County Building and then stopped at Big Mike's for an eight-inch No. 4, the Pilgrim's Pride. Pulling into his driveway, he grabbed a sheaf of papers to look over that evening in preparation for the next day.
As he walked to the door, Dianne came out on the porch.
""How was your day?"" she asked.
