Pasteurized Politics: Jack Weiss on Rye

“We Want Jack. We Want Jack.”

I resist the urge to scream “Squat” between each sentence. Yet the truth is If these people happen to elect Jack Weiss for Los Angeles City Attorney, squat is what the voting public will get. The race for City Attorney has been the most exciting race on the May ballot. With no incumbent, the election was wide open and led to the high noon campaigns of Jack Weiss and Carmen “Nuch” Trutanich. Weiss has the Major’s side and a defeat tonight would not only be against Weiss but a slap to the Mayor’s face. However, Trutanich is supported by the cannabis movement and endorsed by American NonFiction, a win for Nuch is a win for my first political coverage in Los Angeles.

Needless to say I am deep in enemy territory, but I came here as an unexpecting victim. The Weiss people set up their tent in Canter’s deli and had stormed into my neighborhood hang out with their pom poms and red, white, and blue balloons. There was hoopla abound in the way small town, big city politics, with buttons on every lapel and capped white teeth in every mouth. Their suits were dark and their ties came in every speckled shade. I am vastly out of place in my Sid Vicious Tee shirt that proclaims “Kill A Punk For Rock And Roll”.

I feel like a badly costumed spy who will be asked to leave at any moment. The suits near the back use idol chatter with their peers to saunter towards my position and catch sight of my notes or I might be ultra paranoid. Any which way but loose, in a room full of L.A. hopefuls. The mayor is here, Bratton is right around the corner, ready to pull his officers off the street if he doesn’t get his way. While Parks messes around the matzo ball soup ready to back any play. The air is thick and and tension is taunt. Everyone waits for the numbers.

America stands out before me on the deli floor. America in the uniformed, mass produced, televised spectacle. The woman are hot, but hot in an ice cold way. They would swoon your soul to exchange it with the devil and don’t try to hide their intentions. The men look like well dress sharks. Yet my favorite group in the crowd are the reporters. All the big players are here, Eyewitness, Fox, and NBC affiliate channel 4. They stand at the back on computers or cell phones and are too preoccupied with covering the event to actually watch what is going on. And I, in their vein, am too preoccupied with their actions of covering the event to pay attention to the event.

A man gets on stage and excites the audience with an inaudible speech of Jack’s merits. He hits keywords like “Gangs” “Promise” and “Hard Work”. He end his short, muffled speech with “The polls look promising, the numbers are close.”
When the numbers are close and the poll appears promising from a podium, than things are not going well. In Fact the early numbers were 52-47 Nuch and, over the night, they never got any better.

When they pulled together the deil floor for a speech from the mayor, aids pulled together a standing room crowd for the viewing screen, yet I had plenty of space near the back. When Weiss took the stage, joined by his photographic family, his supporters were worked up into a frenzy. They could see the writing on the wall, but lived the dream for a little while longer. Blind optimism is a lemmings last defense.

The party went on a little longer and, though Weiss promised a long night, the witching hour brought a Syrian’s call. The race was now in the review mirror and former City Counsel member Weiss would be returned to the private life. Nuch would fill the City Attorney office and the mood on the Deli floor turned mournful. Their months of hard work and mud throwing had washed them on the shores of defeat. I had to leave.

In retrospect, it was the first time I had been to a campaign party where the outcome fell in my favor. It was also the first time I had gone to the oppresses party. Loser parties find me like a “49ers” find gold. My new political strategy, attend the party of all politicians  I want to see lose.