A Triple-Play Putdown
A woman of stature of my acquaintance collared me as I was leaving City Hall last night. She immediately launched into a rant. She was furious about Ms. Grosss treatment of Carlos Saez, the owner of The Jungle, of Laura Schwartz, a business owner speaking on behalf of Mr. Saez, and about another gentleman who should not be overlooked, Carnell Wallace of the Senior Center. In the opinion of Mr. Saez, Ms. Gross was repeatedly misstating a fact. Mr. Saez stood up and began to gingerly approach the speakers podium. As far as I could tell from my vantage point several inches away, Mr. Saez was not packing heat. He had bathed within the acceptable time limit for a peasant addressing Ms. Gross. His jeans were pressed. His shirt was neat. His hair was combed. He had wiped his face after dinner, and his shoes were relatively shined. Whats to complain about? Respectfully, he asked to correct one mis-statement. Coldly, Ms. Gross said no. Sanity made a comeback a few minutes later. Vice Mayor Alan Corlin invited Mr. Saez to the microphone to issue his correction. Moments later, business owner Laura Schwartz stepped up to advocate for Mr. Saez. She said it was embarrassing that friends should have to do this for such an obviously worthy asset to the community. You cant get rid of them, she implored. Ms. Schwartz was returning to her seat when Ms. Gross engineered a remarkable interjection. Do you have an acre available for the business? Ms. Gross asked the stunned woman, who nevertheless thought fast. No, said Ms. Schwartz. Do you?
There Is a Difference, You Know
Routinely, Ms. Gross regards the distance between herself and members of the public who step to the speaker podium as being so great that it may be unbridgeable. This can, or should, be a toe-stubber for a savvy elected official. If a chain-swinging, beer-swilling gangbanger steps to the City Hall microphone, you may assume an aggressive, hunkered-down stance. Otherwise, you, as a Council member, are obligated to treat every speaker with dignity. If you dont, you have obviated the need for the person to treat you in return with respect. Fundamental civility. Ms. Gross is a major leaguer when it comes to fawning over fellow elected officials or tinpot dignitaries. The smile and the words are set in cast-iron. Members of the public frequently are granted no more than ant-status.
The Bridge Over the River Cry
I had never seen Mr. Wallace prior to last night. But, positive or negative, you can tell about the character of some people without conducting a full-body search. Mr. Wallace immediately qualified as a gentleman. As a senior citizen, he merits respect the more. Ms. Gross calmly put Mr. Wallace in his place, and if he was not shocked, I was for him. In the midst of the wave of sympathy that supporters of The Jungle were attempting to build, Mr. Wallaces card came up. Softly, he told the City Council that his bridge group, which meets one day a week for 4 hours at the Senior Center, has been uprooted from its comfortable regular quarters because the Center is too crowded. He hinted that the principal problem may be too many non-Culver City residents are flooding to the corner of Culver and Overland. As a result, the bridge players, Mr. Wallace said, have been exiled to a far less desirable setting. He pointed that West Hollywoods senior center charges $3 to non-members and that Beverly Hills doesnt even let em in. Couldnt Culver City, he wondered, enact a bar?
Whoosh, Here Comes an Answer
Mr. Wallace did not have to wonder for long. Instead of expressing the most minute drop of pedestrian sympathy, even insincere sympathy, Ms. Gross jumped into a bulldozer, ignited the engine and away she went. I grant you, Ms. Gross knows more data, more bullet points about more people and projects than anyone south of the king of this field, the radio commentator Michael Medved. The vast majority of the funding that built the Senior Center, said Ms. Gross, came from the County of Los Angeles and from federal sources, not so much from the city of Culver City. For that reason, she went on, Culver City was obliged to welcome all comers without distinction. As we say at Passover, Dye-eh-nu. That would have been enough. But Ms. Gross had to affix her own exclamation mark. Welcoming persons from across Los Angeles County, she concluded was meritorious. We take pride in that, she said, although only heaven knows why. Notice, Ms. Gross never acknowledged Mr. Wallace as a fellow human being. For good reason. After years of observing City Council meetings, I believe Ms. Gross is convinced members of the public are not her equals. They are her lessers, to create a word. Periodically, we are reminded that dialogue between peasant and elected official is forbidden, unless opened by an Elevated Person of Nobility. Violators are believed to risk being sent to prison until the elected officials term ends.
Postscript
As a regular at City Council meetings, I have become inured to these kinds of scenarios. But to the 99 percent of residents who may visit a Council meeting once every few years, what must they think? The woman who cornered me at City Hall will have the final word. The Council complains that not enough community people participate in the process, she said. But when they do speak up, and say something the City Council does not approve of, they are treated the way these three unfortunate people were tonight. Every member of the City Council will pay for what happened. The public does not make distinctions. They think of the Council as a bloc.
