Stalking jittery campaign workers certainly wasn't how I'd hoped to cover Paul, who is seen as one of the tea-party-type Republicans most likely to capture a statewide seat this fall. But then, I didn't have much choice: Paul, the son of libertarian stalwart Rep. Ron Paul (R-Texas), has gone to near-comic lengths to avoid what Sarah Palin calls the "lamestream media." Everyone, from Paul and his top staffers to the lowliest door-knockers, has virtually stopped talking to reporters. The campaign did not return any of my phone calls requesting interviews over the course of three months. Even after I flew across the country and drove two hours to Paul's busy campaign HQ in Bowling Green, I was politely turned away. "I'm sorry that I can't be more helpful," said a volunteer who avoided eye contact, seemingly shaken by the appearance of a live journalist. After myriad phone calls, I finally got one of Paul's county-level campaign coordinators on the line, but he demurred: "It's nothing to do with you; I just don't do interviews, period."