In the Event of a Loss
No one wants to lose face or feels he can afford to yield one raindrop of self-esteem. You can slip a velvet glove over the muted rivalry between the Mayor and the Vice Mayor during the past four years. Winchell would have said they were don’t-invite-‘ems — and that is before the final, final, final ruling, evidently. We are now in the middle of the final, final ruling as to who Culver City’s lead member will be on the Light Rail Committee.
They say it is not personal, but of course it is. Intensely so. Otherwise, why not let a janitor compete for the seat. In the last five years, I have not seen two gentlemen of stature in this town who wanted an object more than Mr. Silbiger and Mr. Corlin want Culver City’s version of the pilot’s chair on the Light Rail Committee. This is a pretty extraordinary drama that we are witnessing. Small towns are supposed to offer the opposite of pressure. Not showcase windows but tiny keyholes through which hardly anyone can see. If Culver City were in Kansas, hardly anyone would be paying attention. Probably for the first time in their public lives, their rawest feelings are exposed to a public that may not be as cynical as the public in Los Angeles, but the onlookers are curious.
I’ll Have a Hamburger, Mac
As if you were walking into a cheap hamburger joint — is there another kind? — you can sniff their passions. They don’t resemble the crackling of frying meat, the popping of heating-up onions or the unfragrant flavor of grease that is several shades of brown blah.
The loser in this test of political will and strength will not have to leave town, although for a few minutes he may feel like it. But don’t expect to see the two of them dining together anytime soon at a friendly eatery near you.
What makes this contest so irresistible is that Mr. Silbiger and Mr. Corlin are as unalike as a redwood and a blade of grass. Each gentleman’s unrelieved desire to win is complicated by the backdrop — how they got here. Beginning a year ago, when Mr. Silbiger won the vote, he thought the Culver City seat on the lucrative Light Rail Committee was his for the following four years. Shrewdly,though, the more sophisticated Mr. Corlin outflanked him twelve months later on Reorganization Night, calling for a vote by the City Council that was quickly validated by the City Attorney, and then winning the jackpot vote three to two.
Mr. Silbiger sat there dazed by the dizzying pace of events. This past Monday night, he seemed to confess that the feeling of bewilderment was not surrendering. But neither was Mr. Silbiger abandoning his quest just because the City Attorney said that, in her opinion, Mr. Corlin did everything by the book. A pretty fascinating book, I should say.
While Mr. Silbiger, somewhat uncharacteristically, stubbornly pursues avenues of relief that may yet allow him to retain the seat, sideline watchers are not sure what to make of this. What scarcely allows a dedicated observer to glance away from this tableau is that juxtapositioning of the two principals. The Vice Mayor is favored over the Mayor. Owing to his polish, Mr. Corlin has been the favorite everytime the two have engaged the past four years. What intrigues me this morning is that by the end of next week, Mr. Silbiger could locate an outside opinion that favors his stance. But his toughest chore would be to convince the three City Council colleagues who voted for Mr. Corlin last month to reassess their vote and consider reinstating him. That would be as daunting as sending an American army into combat in a Middle Eastern land.
