First of two parts
[img]1987|right|Sebastian Ridley-Thomas||no_popup[/img]If the several dozen low-information voters who failed to mark their ballots for Sebastian Ridley-Thomas in last December’s special election for the state Assembly, had been in the audience at the DoubleTree Hotel this morning, doubtless they would have apologized to the sponsoring Chamber of Commerce and humbly sought forgiveness.
For his predecessors, it was fortunate for their delicate self-confidence that they were eons away.
At 27 years old, Mr. Ridley-Thomas not only is of a new generation but of a mindset that his predecessors – an enthusiastic, comprehensive grasp of his electoral responsibilities.
If there is a more promising young politician in America, he must be hiding under a desk with the old police chief, Ted Coke – because he is not in evidence.
One day after the four-month anniversary of his election to succeed the promoted state Sen. Holly Mitchell (D-Culver City), the immensely prepared, amazingly well-researched Mr. Ridley-Thomas (D-Culver City) – not at all on purpose — would have embarrassed the Murrays, the Basses and the Mitchells who went before him.
With Mr. Ridley-Thomas, you get no frills.
When Mr. Ridley-Thomas is invited to declaim, he speaks.
He does not perform.
The circus left town yesterday.
He comes to relay no-nonsense information to the serious electorate.
Picture This
He is not there to mug for selfies, to execute juvenile gestures so he can sneakily lift printed words on gigantic, supposedly invisible prompters to his right and left — as if he were snaring the message out of the air, like a baseball outfielder shagging flyballs.
With the least fluff imaginable, Mr. Ridley-Thomas was introduced shortly after 8:30, stepped to the podium without surrendering to the Politicians Creed – Thou Shalt Crack Alleged Funnies En Route to the Podium and for the First Eight Minutes.
He had too much sober ground to cover to cave to the mugs in the room hungering for a stand-up routine.
With brevity that would daze his more seasoned peers, he introduced two senior aides, Vincent Harris and Scott Malsin. That was the end of the fluff.
For the next 25 minutes – speaking without a single note – he launched into dazzling, uninterrupted gravitas. The 120-day veteran clearly essays his homework every night.
Mr. Ridley-Thomas spanned, in measurable depth, no fewer than a dozen complex policy issues, a presentation that could have knocked Toni Atkins (D-San Diego), new Speaker of the Assembly, back on her still-untested high heels.
(To be continued)
