[img]1|left|Ari Noonan||no_popup[/img]City Councilman Scott Malsin lost considerable ground last night.
By pounding his chest and throwing an unbelievable series of tantrums over one teeny weeny subcommittee appointment, Mr. Malsin rendered one of the memorable displays of spectacular immaturity ever seen on the dais.
The only way his performance could have been more highhanded would have been for him to melt into tears.
At which point, I will wager, all four of his disgusted colleagues would have stood and vacated the premises, reserving the entire spotlight for Mr. Malsin, the anti-team player.
It is not as though he is a stranger to Culver City. This middle-aged man with the remarkably outsized ego is known widely. He was the leading votegetter in the recent election.
His astonishing, bitterly-worded self-centered repudiation of poor — but terrifically classy — Vice Mayor Mehaul O’Leary, who badly wanted the same appointment, will remain forever carved into the hearts of everyone present, especially his embarrassed fellow Council members.
Still, he stomped his feet for 15 minutes, insisting that homage be paid to him and him alone.
His shabby treatment of Mr. O’Leary was beneath denunciation.
Mr. Malsin behaved toward his colleague as if he were a punk kid in sneakers and jeans who could ride downtown with him to the gilded meetings of this prestigious group, but don’t say a word, don’t cough, go outside to burp and ask me for permission to do anything other than breathe.
Over and over, as if we were deaf and he were speaking an indecipherable foreign tongue, Mr. Malsin told us what an induplicably jolly good fellow he is.
He declared over and over what a fantastically and uniquely gifted person he is, and how darned lucky Culver City is to have the temporary use of his rarely conferred talents.
It feels as if there should be a punchline in here someplace. But there isn’t.
This fellow was serious, and that, ladies and gentlemen, may be the best punchline.
I have known him most of this century.
I like him. He is very smart and, he is right, pretty talented. He also is charming, and a savvy raconteur.
But don’t thrust yourself onto people, Mr. Malsin, as if you are world class, but, sadly, you are saddled with a crowd of ignoramuses who can’t count to two.
I hope no children were watching the Council meeting as it neared 10 o’clock. Mr. Malsin showed them exactly how a responsible adult should not conduct himself.
As a model for teenagers who harbor dreams of entering politics, he failed them so thoroughly last night it will take him the last three years and 51 weeks he is in office to make amends.
Self-selling not only is what politicians do, it is what they need to do.
Mr. Malsin, however, obviously forgot the rudimentary lesson of moderation: Successful politicians self-sell judiciously.
No matter their degree of articulation, properly motivated politicians do not have to whack hapless, less-gifted colleagues over the head with a sledgehammer, declaring in increasingly off-putting tones, how fabulously talented and vital they are.
Even though a majority of Council colleagues firmly agreed that he had earned a chance to be the lead delegate on this committee, Mr. O’Leary behaved with the politeness of a model politician. He employed restraint I wish I possessed. Ultimately, he deferred to Mr. Malsin, who doubtless thought he had won. He didn’t.
Mr. O’Leary did, and for that, he must be saluted.
