Columnist Jon Ralston: City Hall clowns put on a show

Saturday, Nov. 18, 2000 | 2:57 a.m.

Jon Ralston, who publishes the Ralston Report, writes a column for the Sun on Sundays and Wednesdays. Ralston can be reached at 870-7997 or by e-mail at ralston@vegas.com

"If I was having trouble, I would want you for my friend. You're a helluva guy .... I've been around a lot of tough guys in my life. You're about as tough as it gets. I admire that."

-- Mayor Oscar Goodman to Councilman Michael McDonald in a private conversation, Nov. 9.

"If he played a tape ... of what I said to him, man to man, I will do everything within my power to see that he's not in office ... (McDonald is) a government rat ... the lowest form of human being ... I have no use for him."

-- Goodman, later that same day, after learning McDonald had taped him.

WHEN THE Silly Seven, most of their vertebrae (and apparently their vocal chords) having been removed, voted without a peep to strip Michael McDonald of a title most of the public has never heard of, the City Council also opened a window into a fetid government.

The council erasing McDonald's mayor pro tem appellation on Thursday culminated a surreal week on Stewart Avenue where public pronouncements were rendered meaningless by private conversations, where declarations of restoring honor and integrity were belied by clandestine council maneuverings to find candidates (the Anybody But Steve Miller ticket) to replace McDonald in a recall election.

Goodman and the others can talk about how the city is moving forward, how wonderful they are at repairing streets and making sure traffic lights turn green. But last week was the beginning, not the end, of a descent that not even Oscar "I'm the mayor" Goodman can halt.

Indeed, the day after Campaign 2000 ended everywhere but Florida, the day McDonald was found guilty of ethics violations, also heralded the beginning of the 2001 municipal election season -- yes, folks, there are no interregnums between elections; one slips seamlessly into another. And with four of the seven on the ballot -- and McDonald surely looking to grab onto as many of them as he continues his free fall -- the worst is yet to come.

You can imagine that private conversation between Goodman and McDonald providing echoes for His Honor of colloquies he used to have with his mob clients, the kind of "You're so tough, you're a real man" machismo-on-methamphetamine performance that nobody does better. Later Goodman was furious that a man (despite his private conversation with him) for whom he has no regard had made a fool of him, exposing a profane, pandering, patronizing mayor.

So Mount Goodman erupted, spewing invective and threats before the volcano went dormant again after being corked by his usual group of enablers. But Goodman had accomplished exactly what he has been trying to avoid. This is now not just a story of a councilman abusing his position; it is a story of a government of buffoons.

Oh, yes, McDonald is dead, a ghost of his former self, existing in a political purgatory -- he makes Jacob Marley look corporeal. But McDonald's egregious behavior has gone unchallenged for months because the jellyfish on the 10th floor are terrified that he might be able to hurt them in their elections.

Most have done exactly what Goodman did -- patronize and stroke him to his face while whispering sour somethings behind his back. As McDonald did everything except hold a gun to his colleagues' heads to help bail his boss, Larry Scheffler, out of a sinking investment in Las Vegas Sportspark, these folks didn't act as whistle-blowers -- they let it go, hoping someone in the media or law enforcement would come to the rescue.

So when they continued their conspiracy of silence (Lynette Boggs McDonald the lone exception) at that meeting last week called to take away McDonald's miniature gavel, the septet was not just silly, it was craven. This wasn't about piling on, it was about speaking up, without grandstanding, about why they were there. If you're going to convene a special meeting -- a special meeting! -- just to strip someone of a meaningless title, shouldn't you explain to the public why you are there?

Instead, there were embraces and kind words all around. Instead of a scene of a wayward official being punished, it was as if a dysfunctional family member was being forgiven by his relatives. It was sickening, pathetic and unbelievably phony.

All I could think as I watched them all do a group hug up on the dais was this: I wish I had a tape of what they were saying to each other.