It’s Not Over Till It’s Over--or Is It?

When you cover politics in Los Angeles, you generally don’t have to wait until Election Day to find out which way the wind is blowing.

Thirty-three days before a single voter went to the polls Tuesday, G.C. (Brodie) Broderson, a Burbank actor cast as a Republican congressional nominee, dramatically announced that he was conceding the election. Two weeks later, admitting that he had tested the political waters by getting out of them, he reentered the race.

Broderson declared that a relative groundswell of support--including his mother’s urging and pledges of some nominal money--had led him to return. His opponent, Rep. Howard L. Berman (D-Panorama City), demonstrated his concern by issuing a hard-hitting statement: “Welcome back, Brodie.”

As a relative newcomer to Los Angeles, this has been an education of sorts for me.

Weak election challengers are hardly news in an era when 98% of incumbents are reelected to Congress. But the politically inexperienced, under-financed losing nominees in lopsided campaigns in and around Los Angeles often resemble high school student council candidates masquerading as major party contenders for important offices.

Consider Don Stevens, the Democratic congressional nominee from Thousand Oaks, who upbraided me for not recognizing him as a viable candidate. Never mind that he refused to solicit any contributions and was running against a scandal-free Republican incumbent in an overwhelmingly GOP district.

Then, in an apparent act of supreme self-confidence, this self-styled serious challenger got married and went on a nine-day honeymoon to Niagara Falls one month before Election Day. Perhaps he was fishing for the newlywed vote.

Things weren’t any hotter at the state legislative level.

The following exchange occurred with state Senate nominee Andrew Martin, a Newhall Democrat.

Martin discussing his opponent: “He’s very great at looking out for special interests.”

Reporter: “Can you give me an example?”

Martin: “You’ve got your own research staff. I’m not going to do your work for you.”

Reporter: “But you made the charge.”

Martin: “I don’t have to please the L.A. Times.”

OK.

John Simmons, another Burbank congressional candidate, resorted to quoting his own campaign aide praising him in a news release. Couldn’t he find anyone else?

And Jeffrey H. Marcus, a Democratic Assembly nominee from Chatsworth, ticked off a list of costly social programs that he wanted to spend more money on. He opposed a tax increase, so where would the state find the funds?

“I have not had the opportunity to go over the state budget,” Marcus replied.

Things hit bottom when I received a recruitment call, at work no less, from the campaign of Jim Rendleman, a GOP Assembly challenger from Granada Hills. Though I don’t live in his district, somehow my name and number had found their way onto a list of prospective volunteers. This was a first.

None of these major party nominees were elected to office Tuesday. The truth is that little they said or did was likely to make much difference in their vote tallies anyway.

At the congressional and state legislative levels, gerrymandered districts, special-interest campaign contributions and incumbents’ staff and mailing advantages have made most elections the equivalent of political Little Big Horns. Inevitably, this erodes the caliber of opposing candidates.

Faced with seemingly insurmountable odds, who wants to play Custer at the polls?

This is a national democratic malady, but it is particularly profound in California. The disparity in voter registration in districts drawn specifically for a Democrat or a Republican this decade is greater here than elsewhere. The staggering sums--most of it raised by incumbents--are higher. And, as a result of progressive reforms, the state lacks strong political parties to encourage and reward qualified challengers who will fight the good fight even if they fail.

What is being lost?

A visible and audible point of view other than the incumbents’ and the responsiveness to constituents that political competition breeds.

Underdog politicians often quote Yogi Berra: “It ain’t over till it’s over.”

But Yogi never took on an incumbent in Los Angeles.