"He's the only candidate who's been with us strongly on all the tough issues," Sullivan said.
Sullivan handed me a copy of his group's endorsement press release, which quoted Rescue Muni Vice Chairman Daniel Murphy saying Newsom "backed the dramatic changes we needed first, back when supporting real reform was a lonely endeavor."
But when I watch and hear Newsom, whose political, business, and personal fortunes are girded by the Getty oil wealth, I get the creeps. When I hear Newsom and his supporters scapegoat the poor, I get the same kind of oppressed feeling I got watching Arnold Schwarzenegger condescend to Arianna Huffington during the recall debate. Schwarzenegger seemed like the kind of guy who's used to picking on people he perceives as weaker than himself. So seems Newsom.
For me, the previous observations raise the question, "Whither Tom Ammiano?" It's hard to overstate the political energy his write-in campaign generated four years ago. I remember standing in packed halls amid shouts of "Run Tom Run" and feeling shivers in my chest. Since his 1999 loss, Ammiano has set to the task of becoming mayoral. When given the chance a year and a half ago to appoint Not-in-My-Back-Yard radicals to the Planning Commission, Ammiano instead appointed moderates with expertise in planning issues.
He's a supporter of a transfer tax on properties worth more than $1 million, good policy in my view. And he's advocated revising the city's dependence on the payroll tax, which discourages jobs. Perhaps as important, he's spent four years practicing talking to people he disagrees with. He returns phone calls faster than any S.F. politician.
But with Matt Gonzalez siphoning off the progressive-outrage vote, Ammiano's shaping up this year as an also-ran.
This strange, four-year political vanishing act has an interesting genesis: Despite his Rocky Balboalike performance in the 1999 race, Ammiano doesn't seem to terribly like the day-to-day realities of politics. He's a terrible fund-raiser; it pains him to spend time begging for favors, his allies say. This quality -- a good one from a moral point of view -- frustrates his admirers.
During Tom Ammiano's write-in campaign for mayor nearly four years ago, GraceAnn Walden became famous among Ammiano canvassers as the woman who brought delicious, gourmet food to headquarters. She's lost touch with Ammiano and his circle since then.
As we sat in North Beach, resuming discussion after Burton had taken his seat with Kimiko and a group of family friends, Walden said she'd work for Ammiano again in a heartbeat if called upon. But she hasn't heard from him.
I'm willing to bet there are other San Franciscans in a quandary similar to mine. Perhaps they've felt (or seen people they care about feel) the pain of San Francisco's dual housing and job shortages. And they've come to realize that progressive nonsense and bromides about the supposed war between "the neighborhoods" and "downtown" do nothing to address these problems. These voters have not lost their yen for social justice, and they're appalled at the idea of scapegoating the poor and homeless. They'd like to turn their lonely eyes to someone who's actually concerned about San Francisco's real problems, and at the same time to someone who's not running a mean, cynical mayoral campaign.
They'd be happy to hear from someone like Tom Ammiano. But sadly, they haven't, and neither have I.
