[img]1|left|||no_popup[/img]While President Slow Draw McGraw consults with his imam on which way he should blow on the Iranian revolution — two weeks late and counting — this morning’s edition of the Los Angeles Times reminds us again of who is in charge in the newsroom.
For openers, it is nearly impossible, even in the Calendar section, to suppress a schoolboy giggle when reading the political ramblings of a girl tittilatingly named Tina Daunt.
Typically, Tina specializes in twaddle, which you may interpret as the equivalent of the cancer warning on cigarette packages.
In her regularly scheduled name-dropping essay, Tina Baby speculates about which Democratic gubernatorial candidate will walk away from Hollywood with more money in his saddlebags:
San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom or Oakland Mayor Jerry Brown, who had the job when he had hair.
She doesn’t pick a winner, but decides Mr. Newsom will be the fundraising champion.
Tina Sounds Like a Girl in Love
With the Lindbergh Baby candidate — Los Angeles Mayor Villaraigosa, who has been missing from L.A. longer than the kidnapped infant — out of the race, wouldn’t it be fun to assess the chances of the two survivors?
She awards the prize to the “telegenic” Mayor of San Francisco, coolly looking past his spectacularly unacknowledged tawdry faults.
How can a girl resist such a guy? the deep Ms. Daunt adroitly wonders.
Judging by the perceptive Ms. Daunt’s daunting insights, a reader would presume that the estimable Mr. Newsom just had breathlessly raced into Hollywood to fundraise fresh from his favorite church, where he performs triple daily duty as choirboy, altar boy and part-time mealtime server for his portly, diabetic pastor.
Apparently when Mr. Newsome, at least in his mind, stepped into the pool with the adoring Ms. Daunt, he said, “Let’s go play in the shallow end,” and by golly, Murgatroyd, that is what she did.
A hard left Democrat herself, the skillful skating Ms. Daunt composed a laudatory piece sure to be included in Mr. Newsom’s campaign portfolio. Her essay fails to mention either scandal that temporarily tainted the Mayor’s resume, which turns out to have been written in Etch-a-Sketch.
Back in Los Angeles, Mayor I Love Me should have been so lucky when he was fooling around on his wife. But I tarry.
A No-No Melts into a So-What?
Three years ago, in a dizzying doubleheader which should have denoted his descent, Mr. Newsom was forced to admit that he was a drunk with a, so far, insoluble problem.
Further, he had cheated on dozens of occasions by sleeping with the wife of his campaign manager — something about a rich boy saving on gasoline by playing close to home.
What a guy, exulted the San Francisco media, whereupon they all kissed each other.
In her supposedly sober evaluation of a drunk/cheater as our next governor, the scrupulously dishonest Ms. Daunt ran out of space before she could identify either foible. Darn.
Yet, in the 48 hours since the scandalous behavior of South Carolina Gov. Mark Sanford broke, he has been pilloried internationally — you should hear what London is saying about him today — for resolutely refusing to resign from the governor’s chair. In neighboring North Carolina, the mellifluously moral Charlotte Observer taunted:
“Whatever credibility he might once have had, is shredded. His much-touted principles have unraveled.”
Keep in mind, dear reader, that in the overall American scheme, South Carolina is as significant as a pimple on a rhino’s hearing aid.
California, on the opposite hand, is a player. Conversely, we are deemed deserving of a drunk and unrepentant cheater for governor, and shhh, don’t anybody say anything.
One more time, the undeniable distinction is that Mr. Newsom is desirable because he is a Dem, like the boys and girls in the media, who wag their least busy fingers at Mr. Sanford because he is a repugnant Republican.
