[img]1|left||remove link|no_popup[/img]A perspective on the unrelenting nightmare of veterans returning from the Iraq War zone and the foundation-shattering interruptions they frequently face in their work lives once home.
To say it differently, the worst aspects of the dreadful Ted Cooke legacy rise from the dead and haunt a journalist in quest of sobering truth, which is in discouragingly short supply.
As far as I can tell, David McCarthy pointed his car in the direction of his workplace, City Hall, one chilly, sunny morning last winter when he drew up to a signal light.
Thunderstruck by a sudden realization, he smacked the open palm of his large left hand against his very Irish forehead.
He coughed out something that approximated, “My golly, goodness gracious, Murgatroyd. How in the wide, wonderful world could I have overlooked such a detail?”
Whereupon, urban legend has it, the tallest Deputy City Attorney in Culver City history drove to the nearest forensic psychiatrist for an evaluation test.
Must have happened that way. Must have thought it up himself.
Here is why: Even after donning my favorite woolly, vivid yellow Sherlock Holmes suit and my grandson’s slightly smelly Ace Inspector gloves, I could not find one person at City Hall willing to shoulder the blame for dispatching Mr. McCarthy, the heroic Marine veteran, to a shrink before letting him come back to work.
Not that I blame the true trigger-puller.
How would it look if word leaked and the whole community found out what has been done?
In-bounds or Out?
Embarrassing, I should say. Otherwise why duck into Ted Cooke mode?
Discreetly approaching two key decision-makers, I was given separate answers. One said it was a personnel matter, which is code for out-of-bounds. (I checked the Brown Act rulebook and found that was not so. Once word gets out, you better be prepared to defend it.)
The second answer was, the person generally does not get involved in individual personnel matters.
I do, so let’s shmooze.
For a city that says it prides itself on transparent decision-making, City Hall takes on the creepy trappings of the Kremlin some days.
Boys and girls, this case feels like a pound of baloney from the 99-Cent store.
Taking a Closer Look
Let’s play doctor for a moment and x-ray the case. If an employee is forced to do something against his will at City Hall, he is permitted to discuss it publicly, if he chooses.
Since the controversial reasoning behind ordering Mr. McCarthy to see a doctor is one of the most discussed disputes across America, the gentleman is owed the rudimentary courtesy of a slightly more expansive answer than “No comment.”
He is an employee of 13 years’ worth of substance, not a bleary-eyed bumpkin from Pumpkin Center.
The City Hall executives who gave the two answers above also are persons of substance.
Defendable Reasons
I presume they hold honorable reasons for giving the order to an employee.
As magistrates representing a proudly transparent government, this is the time for them to stand up and declare, “We took this action because…”
Both of you were hired by City Hall and placed in charge of a staff a few years ago in recognition of your executive skills, your leadership ability and the notion that you know how to maturely manage disparate professionals.
You are not a dirt-collecting, jeans-wearing, cigar-munching supervisor of an assembly line of factory workers twisting bottle caps into place.
I am confident that those who hired you would be disappointed this afternoon to look under an aging coffee table and find you keeping company with Ted Cooke.
