Buh-Bye, Zelig

Able Maldonado, former state legislator and lieutenant governor, got a quasi-obituary in the L.A. times Friday.  He's exiting his race for governor.  He's going to " . . . step away for a while and spend more time with my family and stay a little closer to home helping my community, as an active private citizen."

Translation:  He's not crazy enough for what the Republican Party has become.  Same thing happened to Sam Blakeslee, except Sam drank the Republican's Krazy Kool Aide and, like the vampire's bite, became one of them for a while until I'm sure he woke up one dark night and realized he'd sold his soul for a handful of twigs and got the hell out of Dodge.  He's now doing wonderful work here with his foundation and talented kids at Cal Poly and I'm sure they'll all discover or invent something that will save the world -- something politicians, especially bat-shit-crazy ones never could do.

For a while there, Abel was circling the same danger.  As Lt. Gov. he made sure he was always at Gov. Schwarzenegger's elbow.  Like Woody Allen's movie, "Zelig," there he was, like a remora fish, attached to The Governator's side, turning up everywhere.  Ah, such ambition, a man on the way up, the bright star in the Republican Firmament.  Until he actually cast a sane vote concerning a modest tax rise to solve critical fiscal problems that were hobbling the State, and thereby crossed Grover Norquist's blood- line and suddenly he was Anathema! Branded a traitor and taken out behind the barn by the Krazy Kool Aide Krewe and drummed out of the corps. No Goodies For You!

Unlike Sam, Abel must have missed his big sharks and all those photo-ops, so he kept trying to get back into the picture.  Bad call.  He should have said, "The Republican Party has gone crazy. I'm going home until sanity returns, then I'll be back." But he didn't and so thrashed around with fund-raising and efforts to get into the game.  But the Big Un-Fix was in for him. Finally, he came to his senses and, like Sam, went home to reclaim his soul. 

Good for him. Maybe he can call Sam and can come join Sam's foundation and help some kids invent something that will save the world.

Recall?  No Thanks.

The recall against Morro Bay Mayor Jamie Irons has failed.  I'm not surprised.  People hate recalls, which is why they are seldom successful, and this one was particularly fraught.  And it was fraught because nobody could get the narrative right.  To be successful, recalls have to have a really simply, easy to understand narrative, like "Mayor steals city funds, fees to France."

But this narrative was something like, "Mayor elected to oppose sewer previously approved, opposes sewer previously opposed."  And when he fired two at-will employees but could legally give no reason, that narrative ("He's a big meanie!") fell into the sewer confusion. (Did he fire them for stealing money and eeing to France? No.  Did he fire them for refusing to abide by the Coastal Commission? Maybe? So, what's the big deal? ) 

There followed endless letters to the editor that only muddied the water further. So, bad narrative. And as for the whole mess in the first place, years ago, when Bill Yates was still mayor and the city council was still spending gazillions on trying to come up with a way to skirt around the Coastal Commissions recommendations, I used to attend some of the meetings and during the breaks, I would sidle up to Bill and whisper, "Bill, I have two words for you:  Los Osos."  He'd laugh. 

Hey, I was serious.  Morro Bay learned nothing from Los Osos so the same old wheel kept getting reinvented for mo'money, mo'money.  

Well, Jamie's not out of the woods yet.  His reelection is coming up so it's up to the people of Morro Bay to decide if they want to stay the course and move forward to join another coastal town that will be greatly impoverished by a new sewer, or waste more money trying to stave off that inevitable  impoverishment. 

Pssst, Morro Bay.  Los Osos.  Pass it on. 

Panga, Panga, Panga

A "super" Panga marijuana-running boat, with its dumped cargo, was found abandoned on the Estero Bluffs beach boat.  Let's see, how many does that make?  Seems like every few months the MaryJane runners show up on our coast, get surprised by the various law enforcement guys who are lurking around with their night scopes and infra-red-spotting equipment, waiting like a patient cat in front of a mouse hole for the runners to look up, yelp, then dump their load and boat and scamper away. 

Seems like by this time they'd figure out this whole coastline is booby trapped and go find another place to throw away their expensive cargo. Unless they're smoking their own product and it's making them stupid?   I'm just sayin' . . . 

Choices, Choices

The United Nations committee on the Rights of the Child began grilling the Vatican about it's child abuse record and from Associated Press report, things are not going very well.  The Holy See is a signatory to the U.N. Convention on the Rights of the Child and said Convention requires that all signatories take all "adequate measures to protect children from harm."

Naturally, like all United Nation's efforts, such treaties are usually observed more in the breach, which was certainly the case with the Vatican, which is accused of turning a blind eye to thousands of priests who have raped and molested thousands of children for years.  Worse, in addition to the blind eyes, there is ample evidence they actively shielded their pedophile priests from the law and covered it all up in order to protect themselves.

But here's the Vatican's defense, offered by Archbisop Silvano Tomasi, the Vatican's U.N. ambassador in Geneva: " Priests are not functionaries of the Vatican.  Priests are citizens of their own states, and they fall under the jurisdiction of their own country."

Priests are not functionaries of the Vatican?  Really?

We'll see about that.  Let an American bishop declare that priests in his diocese can get married (gay and straight alike) and that he will begin ordaining women to serve as priests, then we'll see just how fast the bishop will suddenly become, once again, a "functionary" of the Vatican.

Bottom line in this absurdity is this:  The Catholic Church had a choice between protecting children and protecting itself.  It chose to protect itself.  What the faithful choose to make of that is up to them.  For me, the choice would have been clear:  Feet, make tracks . . . Out the front door.