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April 11, 2007Won’t somebody please please pleaserun for Mayor of San Francisco?!?!?!MAUREEN DOWDin her April 11 New York Times column described the Republican Party as “The Daddy Party, sick with desire for a daddy…like a lost child.” She might have been describing the progressive coterie of San Francisco. Like an adopted child searching and searching for his birth parents, the Progs search and search for a mayoral candidate to topple the statue Mayor Gavin Newsom. The Gav does make a handsome statue, but his feet are splattered with chicken shit. I thought for sure when the Rippey-Tourke thing came down that he would submit to the voter-mandated “Question Time” at once-monthly Board of Supervisors’ meetings as a gesture of good will and good faith; instead, he has orchestrated town hall meetings reading questions from cards while protestors disrupt the proceedings dressed in chicken suits. Inspired. At one point I thought Gavin might cry. WHO’S YOUR DADDY?Danny Glover would have made a kick-ass macho mayor who wouldn’t have needed anyone else’s money to get elected, but the push for his candidacy was like a lost child looking for Daddy. Well, Daddy denies his paternity. Danny is not interested in being Daddy of San Francisco; he would rather, thank you all the same, continue as a “cultural worker and a citizen” of SF and the world.Chronicle columnists Phil Matier and Andy Ross broke the news, quoting “a statement” that Glover issued, and while it would have been gentlemanly of him to provide the statement as well to the “lefty bloggers,” as M and R termed them, who tried to draft him for Mayor, the Chronicle columnists are more widely read and an efficient way to spread the news. Though it ruffled h’s feathers that he gave the exclusive to the “lying dog” Matier, he probably just left it to his staff who went with the most obvious media outlet. SO NOW WHAT“Marc Salomon is known to all of us,” said h brown in his feeler column for an Exploratory Committee for Marc Salomon for Mayor. Marc’s a smart, savvy progressive activist who certainly has the brain power to run for office, but get real, h, Marc is not known to anyone but your insider political circle and those who read letters to the editors. One of those readers wrote to Fog City Journal, “I see that h. brown, Marc Salomon, and Krissy Keefer are urging Danny Glover to run for mayor. Knowing he has such backers in his corner, why would he hesitate for a moment to give up a successful career in movies?” I don’t think Salomon has a career to give up, I don’t even know how they guy supports himself, just that he’s free to show up at all meetings, rallies, salons and Prog dance parties. YOUR STALLION STANDS IN NEED OF COMPANYFirst of all, like Ross Mirkarimi, who shaved off his “17th century conquistador facial hair” as someone put it, to campaign for Supervisor (he already wears the politician’s suit of armor, all he needs is the gold helmet and sword) and immediately grew it back after elected, Marc would have to rid himself of his beatnik look. All he needs is h’s beret and he could be be-bopping in a jazz club basement. I’m afraid that Salomon as Conquistador, however, would come with sword held high, and would not conquer, only die. Perhaps he’d fare better than Green Party candidate Krissy Keefer could ever have hoped to in the Congressional race against Powerhouse Pelosi, but his war chest would have to be mighty big. THE EXPLORATORY COMMITTEEshould go to Union Square and Chinatown and ask 200 random people, “Do you know who Marc Salomon is?” I’m betting 199 don’t. The remaining one is my margin of error. He’s going to have to burn a lot of shoe leather doing the “I’m Marc Salomon and I’m running for Mayor” thing, and without that great big campaign war chest to shoot Newsom down, perhaps he might end up with Matt Gonzalez’s 47% vote—but Matt Gonzalez was known as the President of the Board of Supervisors. Marc is hampered by relative obscurity and no name recognition. Surely Daly or Mirkarimi would make more sense in that regard. But I bet a good percentage of San Franciscans have no idea who their Supervisor is or would ever consult him or her for anything. For the first year I lived in SF I was completely oblivious to local politics until I volunteered for a campaign and was for better or worse sucked into the whole mess. I know who Marc Salomon is because I was once in a Men’s Room in City Hall with him (and others) while he changed into a different pair of pants, which event he does not remember. Anyway, I hope our little progressive band of enfants perdus finds our Father Figure, but so far no one wants to have 780,000 kids. NO, NO, NO and NOThough Luke Thomas suggested in Fog City Journal’s Green Tip of the Day, “Go Paperless,” I will NOT stop writing paper letters and postcards, in fact I just got myself a gorgeous Acme Alphabet pen at the DeYoung to encourage myself to do so more often. Sure, email is quick, easy and direct; I checked it every day in Mexico, but nothing satisfies like opening your mailbox full of bills and recyclables and finding an unexpected piece of mail actually addressed to the You whom you are, rather than the account holder or list member who gets computer-generated mailings. For instance my friend Peggy and I have a running joke about auditioning for American Idol with “Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting.” So one day, though I seldom see her and we do communicate by email, I came home to a mysterious greeting card showing some illustrated martial arts sparring on the cover, which opened to a tinny rendition of “Kung Fu Fighting.” And that goes in my secret box of treasures under my bed. Actually it goes in the “Misc. Friends Memorabilia” file. WRITE, WRITE, WRITE and WRITEto your friends, with a pen on a paper. Send a picture postcard from an exotic locale—it’s the postmark that’s so cool—and give them something to treasure, even if only for the moment of discovery. They’re not printing out your emails to include in their Collected Letters (I am, though). Most likely they eventually get deleted and evaporate into cyberspace. Create something special, a keepsake, a departure from mundanity, a human link.I also recommend that when you see a little something that reminds you of a friend, pick it up and mail it to him or her. The way to a woman’s heart, at least, is an unexpected gift at an unexpected time. YES, YES, YES and YES!
The author spots some chemtrailson a crystal blue day at Ocean Beach. Someone should campaign to investigate them, as Kucinich failed to do….. ------------------------------------------------------------ Daddy dear
Lawrence Ferlinghetti for Mayor copyright Alexandra Jones 2007 |
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