Two Out of Three

With the L.A. city election shut away in a drawer, so to speak, I felt it appropriate to poll the populace on its attitude toward the new mayor, which is to say wealthy, fun-loving Dick Riordan.

In most instances, I leave elections to my colleague Bill Boyarsky, who takes far more seriously than I the question of which of several clowns will juggle us down the path to perdition for the next four years.

But this election has been so dirty it has attracted even my attention, and I feel obligated to comment. If the duty of the columnist is to come after the battle and shoot the wounded, Lafayette, nous voila! I’m perfectly happy with the outcome of the voting, by the way, because I didn’t vote for any of the winners and therefore feel no moral obligation to display extraordinary kindness to them as time passes.

It is not my attitude we are concerned with, however, but that of the People, who consistently manifest their wisdom by electing candidates with the reach and perception of Ronald Reagan.

In order to tap into their thinking I telephoned a dozen whose names I selected at random from telephone books.

It was not a scientific poll for many reasons, not the least of which is that I work at home, and so does our dog Hoover, who barks endlessly. Old age has turned that bark into what sounds like a falsetto cry for help, which led many to believe I was killing a dog while seeking their comments.

I called a dozen people. Three had no opinion, two said they already subscribed and hung up, two don’t speak no English, one threatened my life and one wanted to know if I were Jewish and a single man.

*

The one who threatened me with mayhem was the first person I called, which did not bode well for the poll. I had given him my name and he was a condor-lover who felt a prior column had defamed the entire animal kingdom.

He didn’t threaten my life exactly, but did threaten to shove a condor down my throat which, if not fatal, would be damned uncomfortable. Well, he didn’t actually say down my throat, but that’ll do. I stopped giving my name after that.

The first person to actually answer the question of how he felt about the new mayor was a man named Melvin. He had voted for Michael Woo, the city councilman who has made Hollywood safe for women and little children, as long as they are hookers and dealers. All others remain in peril.

Melvin said he felt Riordan was racist. “How so?” I asked. “Because,” he said, “he accused Woo of being Chinese.”

The response threw me for a moment.

I said, “Wait a minute, Mel, I don’t remember Riordan even referring to Woo’s ethnicity and, anyhow, you don’t accuse someone of being what he is. That would be like accusing the Pope of being Catholic.”

“Well, I wouldn’t like being accused of being Chinese,” Melvin said defensively.

“If he did call someone Chinese he wouldn’t call him Chinese unless he was Chinese. And there isn’t a damned thing wrong with being Chinese or Armenian or whatever the hell you are!”

“How would you like being accused of being Chinese?”

“This is one of the stupidest conversations I’ve ever had,” I said, and hung up.

“Calling someone stupid is no way to run a poll,” Cinelli said from the other room. It’s a chance I’ll have to take.

*

The next person I reached was Virginia from Canoga Park, who had voted for Riordan because, her exact words, “He is tough enough to turn L.A. around.” She was a slogan-speaker.

“But Woo would bring us together,” I said, mouthing his slogan.

That confused her a little, but she persisted. “Being tough enough to turn us around is more important.” Pause. “Is that a dog I hear crying?”

“Yes,” I said, “I kill dogs for a living in addition to running a poll.”

“Oh.”

“So you’re quite happy with the election then?”

“Very happy,” she said. “We’ve finally got someone tough enough. . . .”

The third pollee was Chuck from San Pedro. He voted for Riordan because, he said, he’s real. He got arrested.

“It proves he’s human,” Chuck said, referring to Riordan’s arrests for drunk driving many years ago. “I doubt if Woo even takes a drink.”

“You voted for Riordan because he has a drunk-driving record?”

“That’s right,” Chuck said, “a lot of us did.”

“Then I guess if drunk driving got him an 8% spread, multiple murders might have bought him a landslide.”

I expected Chuck to curse me and hang up. Instead he said, “I’d have to think about that one.”

But not too deeply, I presume. (SOMEBODY SHUT THAT DOG UP!)