When It Comes to Mud-Slinging, Golding Knows How to Mix It Up

Is it possible that this mayoral election will be remembered as the moment when San Diego lapsed into the Madonna age of politics?

It’s only been over for three days but already all the governmental point-counterpoint has fled from my (increasingly porous) mind.

All I keep remembering is the Susan Golding commercial on television charging Peter Navarro with being on the take from pornographers.

You remember the commercial: The back-lit marquee of a porno theatre with silhouettes of nekkid ladies reclining in a naughty, naughty fashion.

The kind of thing you’re likely to see on the mud flaps of 18-wheelers. Shot at night, when vice stalks the city.

The commercial talked of the porno industry . Nice touch. Not just a few bookstore owners whose checks were immediately returned upon discovery.

An entire industry!!! Images are conjured of some X-rated Andrew Undershaft trying to buy the mayor’s office in America’s Finest City.

OK, so Navarro is no virgin (let’s keep the metaphor going). He can be arrogant and hot-tempered; people are still debating whether his Silberman commercials were just plain dirty, dirty but accurate, dirty but accurate but stupid, or some variant thereon.

So what’s the point here? you ask.

The point is that, make no mistake, the mayor-elect (whose governmental skills and intellect are considerable) is one of the foremost practitioners of the politics of demonization.

When Golding runs for office, she and her handlers paint her opponent not just as a less desirable alternative but as mad, bad and dangerous to know.

She ran for City Council and portrayed her opponent as a swindler of old ladies; she ran for supervisor and portrayed her opponent as a crook under investigation.

She ran for mayor and portrayed Navarro as an economic bomb-thrower who would put people out of work. For icing, she threw in the porno stuff, making him a moral reprobate as well.

Golding’s apparent view is that there is no connection between campaigning and governing: that the public forgives and forgets, and that the low-road approach to campaigning does not undermine her ability to lead.

It’s an interesting theory.

Politics Brings Out the Weird in Us

Election leftovers.

* It’s too early to tell if it’s a Democratic trend, but a crime on Election Day may bear watching.

The same day that saxophone-playing Bill Clinton was being elected, the Centre City Music store near downtown was being burglarized.

The burglars ransacked the joint but only took two things: An alto saxophone and a tenor saxophone.

* At Election Central in Golden Hall, Bob Davidson of La Jolla was wearing a “Leslie Gore ’62. It’s My Party” button.

* Of the characters at Election Central, my favorites were the guy dressed as Sgt. Pepper, the guy with the “God Begot No Son” T-shirt and a picture of Christ tucked in his pants, and punk-rockers who arrived after midnight with “Impeach Clinton” banners.

Runner-up: City Hall gadfly Don Stillwell, dispensing a gibberish-laden economic manifesto.

* Peter Navarro says his literary agent has suggested he write a book about the Clinton Administration’s economic game plan. He’s mulling.

* The happiest person at Election Central appeared to be Councilman Ron Roberts, exchanging high-fives with attorney Bob Ottilie to celebrate Navarro’s defeat (and to a lesser degree, Golding’s victory).

Landslide for the Kid Vote

Not to be too mushy about this, but how about a pat on the back for the people running the polling place at Kensington Community Church?

Children accompanying their elders to the polls were allowed to vote in a presidential “election” among Washington, Jefferson and John Adams, plus races for veep and commissioner of sports.

The emphasis was on realism, to get kids hooked on the democratic process.

Witness the case of Matthew James Mitrovich, 3-year-old grandson of City Club President George Mitrovich.

He “voted” with his grandfather and liked it so much he returned with his mother. The second time he was (gently) turned away with the admonition, “Sorry, you already voted.”