First in a series
[img]1697|left|Carmen Trutanich||no_popup[/img] Let there be no doubt that big, bluff Carmen Trutanich means to retain his job as Los Angeles City Attorney, whether in two weeks in the March 5 primary or if he is extended to the finals on May 21.
At 3 in the morning, awakening in his native San Pedro home, he can rattle off 26 unperturbed, comma-free minutes of data he swears proves that he has been the most effective City Attorney since a cloudy time in the last century.
Well, yes, there was that spot of unpleasantness last year when he skated around a loudly trumpeted ’09 Election Night promise to serve a single term and go home.
Instead, with incumbent Steve Cooley retirement-bound, he chose to run for County D.A. last spring. He came away, however, resembling Pepe LePew as deputy D.A. Jackie Lacey went on to skunk Allan Jackson in a tartly personal showdown.
“Promise-breaker,” pesky, noisy critics cried out to Mr. Trutanich after the June wipeout that night have discouraged softer types.
What?
Did someone say something?
No Interruptions, Please
Unfettered, Mr. Trutanich just kept walking, never losing a step as he returned to his old office – head bowed for less than a second – and swiftly prepared for a re-run of ’09, defending his hard-won chair, because almost no healthy body willingly surrenders power.
Whether he has used that first-time authority wisely is the centerpiece of his sizzling intramural skirmishes with chief challenger Mike Feuer – whom his staff people have harshly, repeatedly chastised, almost as if were a long lost Dorner relative.
He wants people to know that as a boy from the docks, a San Pedro native and lifer, he comes with a lifetime guarantee.
Which is kind of what Mr. Trutanich wants to talk about when you sit down with him in the lunch hour at a downtown eatery frequented by the City Hall crowd.
Square jawed, open faced, he resembles somebody you went to school with or who lived next door.
These can be large edges when you are running for public office, even though Mr. Trutanich didn’t dip his proud San Pedro-born toe into electoral waters until four years ago at the age of 57.
He looks and acts like the kind of guy who would forget the lyrics while entertaining at a family reunion or would forget the name of somebody he has known for years – but he would creamily smooth it over so facilely that the entertained crowd is grateful he gaffed. They are hoping for another.
The subject is family, as it often is with Mr. Trutanich. He looks and acts like your favorite big brother, familiar from the start. Friends call him Nuch, and no strangers inhabit his universe – humanly or nutritionally.
Before taking a window seat, the proprietor shows Nuch comparable cuts of beef. Which is his preference? “Surprise me.”
He just hopes voters don’t.
(To be continued)
