Recently, in a blatant effort to get attention, I announced that I was running for mayor of San Francisco. And it’s working! Today the San Francisco Chronicle sat up and took notice, as Emmy-winning radio personality and columnist Ben Fong-Torres trumpeted my candidacy in his column Radio Waves.
I don’t want to make too much of being mentioned in Ben’s column—by, say, leading this blog with it, posting it on Facebook, tweeting on Twitter, throwing a victory party, hiring a skywriter, or spraying graffiti on City Hall. That’s all fine for the other candidates, such as Ed Lee. If Ed wants to waste the taxpayer’s money throwing extravagant parties, hiring skywriters, and spraying graffiti all over City Hall, that’s his business. I won’t judge him. Other people may, but not me.
Ed Lee’s motto is “Ed Lee gets it done.” My motto is “How bad could he be?” Ed’s motto is pedestrian and vague. My motto is aspirational. Ed’s motto is focused on “it.” What is “it”? Ed doesn’t say. For all you, the voter, know, Ed is talking about buying a dozen eggs and a half gallon of milk. Or maybe he is talking about dismantling the Golden Gate Bridge, although why Ed Lee would want to dismantle San Francisco’s most famous landmark and a vital artery for the entire state is beyond me. My point is Ed’s motto doesn’t really inspire.
On the other hand, “How bad could he be?” is a motto for the ages. Over the centuries many great leaders have been chosen on exactly this basis. A couple of kingmakers get together in a corner, blow some smoke rings, talk about their golf games, and then start kicking around a couple of names.
“There’s Marc,” says the first kingmaker. “He gets it done.”
“Get’s what done?” asks a second kingmaker.
“There’s Julius,” says a third kingmaker, blowing a particularly fabulous smoke ring.
“Julius!” says the first kingmaker. “I hadn’t thought of him.”
“Julius,” says the second kingmaker, mulling it over. “How bad could he be?”
Clinking glasses, they all agree, “To Julius Caesar!”
I don’t want to compare myself too closely to Julius Caesar. I would prefer the George Washington model: retiring at the end of an illustrious career, beloved, wearing nothing but the finest wooden teeth, etc, etc.
And so I say to you, San Francisco, if called upon to serve, I will reverse Ed Lee’s decision to dismantle the Golden Gate Bridge. I will do my utmost to live up to my campaign slogan.
i
Occupy Sam Barry
Perhaps a visual image might help to understand this statistic. If we picture these richest Americans in their underwear, what we would see are people who are grossly, horribly obese. They are eating all the food in the refrigerator and grabbing all the household money to eat at sumptuous restaurants. They are stopping at one fast food restaurant after another and ordering the most fattening choices and invading big box stores to stock up on huge containers of snacks.
While the vast majority of American struggle to make ends meet—by which I mean keep a roof over their heads, food on the table, clothes on their backs, and if they are wildly successful, see a doctor and dentist now and then—never mind anything so extravagant as help their kids advance their lives by going to a good school or (gasp!) go on vacation—the rich are trying to figure out where to invest all that money.
Currently the Occupy Movement is not a fully coherent, which is no surprise. Americans are, for the most part, hard working, mind-your-own-business sorts, and it’s clear that the people marching and camping include, along with activists, many who normally wouldn’t be out demonstrating—the middle class (a somewhat meaningless term, given the Congressional Budget Office’s report), old and young, employed and unemployed, representing a variety of views.
People are angry that their representatives in the federal government appear to be bought and sold by lobbyists and big campaign contributors, a trend that has grown virtually unchecked for decades. People are angry that government is increasingly dysfunctional. People are angry at the lavish paychecks of executives of incompetently-managed banks and investment firms. Our nation’s infrastructure is deteriorating, our public schools are closing, and our colleges are being priced out of the reach of the so-called middle class.
Meanwhile, there are many eloquent people advocating for the wealthy, arguing that “we shouldn’t take away the incentive of the rich to create more wealth.” They say the Occupy Movement is misguided, since we need gifted innovators to build new companies, creating more wealth and jobs.
Few would argue with the need for innovation and the freedom to pursue opportunity, but this perspective ignores (or reveals an ignorance of) what life is like for most Americans. This is a capitalist world, and there is no serious sign that our most capitalist of nations is moving one inch toward any other economic system, in spite of the paranoid ranting of a few that our president is a socialist. But our government, the very wealthy, and the apologists for great power and wealth have consistently favored the rights of capital over all other human rights.
The Occupy Movement may be unfocused and vague in its demands. This is no surprise for a largely spontaneous uprising. But those with great economic and political power would be unwise to simply wait for winter and fatigue to wear the movement out. They might get their wish, but the underlying injustices that prompted the Occupy Movement will still be there, and the anger and frustration will not go away until these are addressed in substantial, systemic ways. Better to harness this energy now and march together toward justice.
This crisis has led me to make a momentous decision. As one of the nation’s thought leaders* and the future mayor of the United States’ loopiest city, I promise to get up from behind my desk, march out of San Francisco City Hall, and head straight to the dentist to get my teeth fixed on the great dental plan afforded me as a public servant. After that I thought I’d go see an opera and see if I can’t get to know the rich patrons on a first-name basis and maybe get invited to some lavish parties in Pacific Heights. From that vantage I promise I will look into changing the system. I will work from within, but when I am handed a glass of chardonnay, I promise I will be raising a toast to you, the People. Because I am with you in spirit.
*i.e., I think I’m a leader.