Watching City Hall #463

Watching Krissy run for Kongress III

(7-1-06)

“I want h. brown to defend me!”

(Jeff Adachi at Daly’s kick-off party)

It was one hell of a party too. Of course, the much-respected San Francisco Public Defender was just joking. I’d dragged my buddy, Doug Macabee over to meet Adachi and Jeff was being generous. Nevertheless, I immediately filed it away as one of the best compliments I’ve ever had. … Politically, that is. But, I have to run back a bit. The day was a 5 event day for the Keefer campaign (ended up being 7 and she missed this show cause she was peddling her gorgeous ass off in the pack of ‘Critical Mass’ with Sue Vaughan and Susan King - there are so many public events for a candidate that don’t involve billionaires - let’s see Nancy Pelosi peddle in Critical Mass?).

Anyway, I’d already done the Bulldog Salon with Krissy a couple of hours earlier and drank in the advice of Marc Salomon (only a fool wouldn’t) and several others who don’t like to be mentioned here. introduced Doug to Vicki Leidner of Code Pink and hubby, John who works with incarcerated kids and we were scanning the room to find people who were, in our opinions, the ‘major’ players. Jeff topped the list, easily. I’m proud of knowing him and I’m proud of knowing Doug too. I’ve known him at least 20 years, he speaks several languages and is erudite in the arts. Well dressed. Sober and reliable. Just the kind of person you’d think wouldn’t want to be seen with me. I have lots of friends like that. Go figure.

It’s all about electability

The scene was a nightclub called ‘Loft 11′ at 11th and Harrison. Great space. Large (compared to Jupiter and the Grand Canyon but nothing touches Medjools) but comfortable. Probably holds couple hundred in a tight, clean and dimmed atmosphere that hid everyone’s pimples and wrinkles. I wandered the room and made smart-ass remarks and bummed drinks. Outside, the late afternoon sun sparkled off the heavy traffic headed by on their way to a 4th of July weekend. Inside, predators and prey circled, never quite certain which they were. It was Daly’s party and the stars of the Left were out. Daly stood halfway up a black, wrought iron spiral staircase and looked out over a crowd that included Adachi (is he up for re-election already?) and John Rizzo of the Sierra Club who’s running for the Community College Board. Soft spoken Ross Mirkarimi had a little gaggle around him as he waxed eloquent. Board President, Aaron Peskin was careful to avoid me as he has the last several times I’ve seen him. What’s bothering you Aaron?

Respected SOMA powerhouse and Bulldog columnist, Jim Meko stood with Doug and I and I called over Sentinel Editor-in-Chief, Luke Thomas to introduce him to a Bay Guardian photographer who was shooting pics with no hassle. That kind of surprised me cause when I’d left a message the evening before as to whether the Sentinel’s co-owner and ace photographer, Luke Thomas & I could attend (believe it or not, I don’t crash anyone’s party who might be mad at me - most folks at some time or another) without calling them and asking permission first. I’ve been doing that since pre-school when I first started making serious enemies (other than my older sisters) … and, so has Thomas.

Anyway, Daly was cool with our being there but he’d rather Thomas not bring his camera. We understood. A ways back, Luke did some shots that weren’t flattering of Chris and ran them. But, hey, I’m nothing if not a facilitator amongst friends. … So, the Guardian got to shoot but Luke didn’t cause Chris doesn’t trust him enough and I understand both sides but Luke can be trusted and so can Chris … to be fair and keep their word … and shit like that … but, hey, Luke’s been fair in everything he’s written about Chris (the trick here is to realize that, like myself and Eileen Left, Thomas and his partner, Pat Murphy are two different characters). Murphy hates Daly in the most petty and stupid ways at many points. Thomas could care less. He looks for honest shots across a powerhouse landscape and treats everyone fairly. Hey, I can’t do that. Wouldn’t want to. But, here I am in a Prius careening through 5 parties across town and Luke is along for 3 of them and I’m honored and kind of pissed that Daly wouldn’t let his camera in while at the same time understanding. You get that? You’re fucked up then, cause I’m fucked up when I’m writing it and it takes one to know one.

So, to get on with it without dwelling on the point that the Guardian didn’t even think enough of Chris to send a reporter (Bruce, you need to weigh in early on all of your November endorsements and accord them lots of editorial space - use your space for real Progressives and use it early, big guy) … anyway, we were there and it was replete with the hardcore lefties and, as Nick Gravenitis said of the Monterey Pop Festival in ‘66: “The top geniuses were there, as well as the leading slimeballs.”.

Robert Haaland was there

I asked my friend, Doug who impressed him most that he met that evening (he met at least 20 of the top lefties and he’s very discriminating) and he said it was Debra Walker. He had no idea about her artistic/activists/power broker status over the last couple of decades or more. Didn’t realize she’s one of Krissy Keefer’s best friends. He doesn’t watch SFGTV and had no idea that she’s the President of the Commission that oversees the Department of Building Inspections. No idea of her artistic talents or of her face-offs with Joe O’Donoghue. Oh, he loved Adachi, but he already knew who Adachi was and knew he liked him, so Debra was his nicest surprise.

Voice: “Are you the original owner of the bird?”

Answer: “No, Jerry owned him for awhile and before that he

was owned by a drug dealer.”

(watching a transaction in UN Plaza’s ‘Pirates’ Cove’)

I have to take out time to get fucked up while I’m writing these things because, unlike yourself, I have no responsibilities other than … wait, the phone just rang and Eileen Left is downstairs. Let me get her past the front desk. She’ll help.

Eileen:

(Luscious 6′ blonde in full black leather motorcyle gear,

grabs one of Doug’s European beers out of the fridge …

twisting the cap, she glares at me as she takes a drink

and reaches for the lit pipe I’ve been puffing.)

“Hey, let’s get past this society column shit and have you answer some real questions.”

h.: “OK, OK, good to see you. … ‘And, Medea Benjamin also avoided me as did Enrique Pearce. I complimented Robert Haaland (looking leaner and meaner) on finishing second to Gary Delugnuts on my person of the year award. I got my Daly beads and talked to Michael Goldstein and Debra about how I didn’t really hate them but was just disappointed and spoke with Christina Olague and nodded at super field organizer, Donna Linden who doesn’t like me but whom I admire deeply and spoke for a moment with Kim Knox but couldn’t follow her when she broke into Klingon.’ …”

Eileen: “I was there, dickhead, I gave you your lines. Daly has the Left and Rob Black is just the latest Downtown sinkhole they’ll be pouring their money down. They can’t beat Chris.”

h.: “So, why are they running Black?”

Eileen: “Look at the assholes’ credentials! The Presidio and Treasure Island as an appointee of the privitazation forces of Pelosi and Lennar and Molloch, for God’s sake? Chris challenged a project on Treasure Island that could run up to 5 billion dollars. He tried to make the Neighborhood supervisor an equal partner on development partnerships transforming his district. He tried to make the Mayor participate in genuine public forums. The Transbay Terminal project alone is worth not just 4 or 5 billion in construction money, it can be the terminus of the world’s first ‘Tidal Powered Transit System’ fueling thousands of miles of high speed rail from her to L.A. in one direction and all the way to Denver as the crow flies. Chris is a thorn under their saddle, so they’re running in a hit man.”

h.: “I told Daly he had no troubles. I mentioned Roger Gordon whom they set up an entire storefront phony organization to feed a few bucks back to Uncle Toms (challenge me on this, assholes) and stage prop people to appear at neighborhood meetings … and the other Roger, (Schulke?) … old man on the Bart Board … can this dickhead, Black, do any better?”

Eileen: (She’s finished a glass of wine and is out on the fire escape again, painting her toenails. It’s a typical San Francisco summer day … 100 degrees in Napa Valley, 50 miles north and 55 degrees on my fire escape.)

“Black can’t do anything. It all depends on if they fix the machines. You already know

they fix the absentee ballots. All you can do is plant spies at ES&S or whomever the

vendor may be and do polls for the last 30 days of the election. Every night. That’s

Salomon’s job. Why the hell isn’t Salomon more involved?”

h.: (winces) … “All the money so far has been going into the web site and a few signs. You can’t organize Greens. Salomon has a mortgage. Susan King pays rent. We don’t have Pelosi’s grease machine but we’ll beat her anyway.”

Eileen: “You know that Salomon can give you a battle plan that will work, don’t you? He’ll bash programs from Elections and donor bases and pay his own salary inside of a week. Get him on board. You’re already winning and you don’t even know it. … Be serious with me, do the women in the campaign not want to work with him because he’s a gay male?”

h.: (surprised hands-up gesture) “Where’d that come from?”

Eileen: (wags head) “Had to come from you … I don’t exist, remember?”

h.: (shaking head) “What’s serious that you wanted me to write about?”

Eileen: (back inside the room, pours a glass of Merlot) “Back off on Newsom on the Taxi Commission.”

h.: (looks surprised) “That’s what Salomon said the other day.”

Eileen: “Well, he’s right. Wait and see how this vote goes today. Mayors meddling with commissions, even if they appointed them, isn’t cool. Wait and see how this goes.”

h.: (typing away) “OK, I’ve got that written down. Now what?”

Eileen: (studying the arc of 3 ‘Krissy for Congress’ posters on the wall, flanked by a City map and full calendar) “Write about the new contract tndc demands everyone sign and about your food stamps running out after they reduced them and your welfare check not showing up.”

h.: (scrunches nose & types) “That’s always kind of embarassing. … Well, my foodstamps were reduced last month by 25%, and tndc came up with a new contract that runs pages and pages and has a place for initials on every page. One thing they want is for you to sign an indemnity for them. I think it means if they sue you, you pay them to sue you. I gave it to Casey Smith at thc and he passed it to one of their lawyers and they recommend not signing but want to see the original lease. Now I gotta dig that out. Then, when I went to get my check friday at LSS, it wasn’t there. Everyone else had one but mine wasn’t there. So, I went by welfare and my worker wasn’t there and the duty person told me I was still in the system and maybe my check would come Saturday. So, I went home and there’s a letter in the box saying that they’re raising my food stamp allotment to higher than it was before and would credit me for the month they reduced my benefits. But, I’m still broke, so I’ve been eating at food kitchens the last few days.”

Eileen: (turns on Gonzo’s old boom box & begins to direct the first strigs of EVOC’s ‘La Donna’) “So, I think you need to get your ass out of this building. You’re eligible for lots of other things now that you’re 62. The elevator is broken and you need a kitchen and a bathroom. They’ll get you something if you just apply. Being old has a few advantages.”

h.: (scratches beard) “You’re right on that one. Maybe it’s time to move to upper skidrow. … Anything else?”

Eileen: (closes her eyes as the opera hits a high note - holds up a finger to indicate he should wait while she finishes the passage, then nods and continues) “Give Luke Thomas some slack. Krissy’s right on that. You’re too hard on all your friends and family. You’re even too hard on the politicians. (opens eyes and looks over at him typing) The emergency meeting of the Taxi Commission is in 46 minutes. Put this thing out on your blast and go clean Jens’ floor.”

Bulldog Salon is re-opened: sfbulldog/salon.com