A headline in the Daily Breeze a month ago was pregnant with promise, the dream of a Culver City journalist:
“Mayor jabs at foes in State of City talk.”
Thank you Steve Aspel of Redondo Beach for busting the mold.
The lead of the story says that Mr. Aspel “took a few potshots at political opponents.”
Whew. Fresh air. A pleasant spring breeze.
Even though the Culver City Mayor’s Luncheon at the DoubleTree by Hilton is eight days off, the story of Mayor Mehaul O’Leary’s obligatory painful paean to the world record number of angels who work in City Hall can be written this afternoon. Or 10 years ago, before he was elected to the City Council.
Some mayors speak well.
Some stagger.
But the denominator so common is that they all feel compelled to repeat the exact intonations of their predecessors for the last 200 years – that this gang of honchos is the finest ever formed by homo sapiens or homeowners anywhere within five or 10 miles.
Mr. O’Leary, at least one of us in the audience is begging you, pleading for you to depart from form.
You don’t have to criticize.
Just don’t be so darned predictable.
