Yesterday’s pancake-style Mayor’s Luncheon was simplistically instructive for future mayors of Culver City:
Don’t.
Mayor Mehaul O’Leary, blessed with an abundance of Irish charm, acceded to uncommonly bum advice by delivering the driest, dustiest, most calorie-free speech heard at the luncheon in years.
“Too long, too much trivia, too many statistics and ‘way too little Mehaul,” an astute member of the audience remarked in the dull afterglow after applauding with one hand.
Three hundred people shoehorned into a room at the Double Tree by Hilton did not expect a rerun of the Gettysburg Address. Nor did they expect to need a spoonful of No-Doz.
If a 45-minute recitation of arcane data concerning people you hardly know and don’t care about fits your definition of thrill, welcome to a minority of one or two.
At 30 minutes, one-third of the room was idly consulting its iphones.
At 35 minutes, two-thirds of the room was calling home. They checked on the welfare of family members because they had been gone from the hearth for so long.
At 40 minutes, they were dialing 1.800.Larry.Miller to order their portable versions of Sit ‘n Sleep mattresses in case the speech, that started at 12:40, meandered into the dark hours.
When Mr. O’Leary crossed the finish line at 1:25, one diner rubbed his eyes, yawned, scratched his pajamas, turned to another guest and said “a.m. or p.m.?”
