Friday, May 11, 2001 | 4:25 a.m.
Jeff German is the Sun's senior investigative reporter. He can be reached at (702) 259-4067 or by e-mail at [email protected]
IT'S SAFE to say that Steve Miller doesn't plan to include me in his inner circle of friends in the near future.
On the witness stand last week in his defamation suit against former Mayor Jan Laverty Jones, Miller called me a longtime political archenemy, which is a heavy load to carry when you consider I'm not in politics.
It turns out that Miller hasn't admired my reporting over the years, particularly the way I have chronicled his gaffes as a disruptive city councilman, perennial office-seeker and government gadfly.
I'm shocked.
So imagine my surprise when Miller under oath gave me an above-average grade last week on the 13-year-old story that led him to sue Jones, his real archenemy.
The 1988 story reported that Miller, while a city councilman, had alerted police to the discovery of a cocaine-like substance in a Porsche he had bought for his daughter. The substance was found while the car, which had belonged to a suspected drug dealer, was in a body shop. But it was ordered destroyed before police had a chance to test it. Hence, Miller took some heat from an investigating officer at the time because there was no way to prove the substance was cocaine.
In 1991 Jones picked up on the story in an 11th-hour campaign mailer attacking Miller in their bitter race for mayor. The mailer erroneously made it appear as though the substance was found in a car Miller was driving, and Miller, who ended up losing the race, filed suit alleging he was falsely portrayed as a drug user.
That brought us to court last week, a decade after the brouhaha first broke.
Under intense cross-examination from Jones attorney Bruce Laxalt, Miller was forced to acknowledge that the story was accurate, objective and well balanced.
Such words, even coming from Miller, would bring sweet music to the ears of any journalist.
Miller also told Laxalt that if he were a journalism professor, which he isn't, he would give the story a "B" for its overall presentation.
Now, I know that Miller doesn't know how to write, and is as much an expert on the media as I am on nuclear fusion, but I couldn't help but smile at his reluctant, but supportive testimony.
What brought a bigger smile to my face, however, was the way Laxalt, through his penetrating questions, gave the jury in the case a taste of Miller's wacky side.
This was expected to happen, and Laxalt didn't disappoint the television viewers following the trial on Las Vegas One.
Laxalt tried to show that Miller lost the race because of his own missteps, not the last-minute hit piece the Jones campaign put out.
And Miller gave him plenty of ammunition when he testified, without providing any real evidence, that he believed his former campaign manager, California political strategist John Davies, was a mole working against him.
Miller charged that Davies may have set him up to commit the biggest blunder of the 1991 mayoral campaign -- his now-infamous news conference outside Jones' Canyon Gate home to accuse his opponent of being an out-of-touch rich candidate who drives a Mercedes.
While Miller was speaking, his Jaguar could be seen on camera in the background, much to the amusement of the Jones forces. Miller later had to acknowledge that he also was wealthy, and the incredibly stupid error stayed with him the rest of the mudslinging race.
Miller even admitted under cross-examination last week that he ran a "ridiculous campaign," and like the captain of the Titanic, he was taking full responsibility for the political disaster.
Laxalt was just getting warmed up when the trial recessed for the weekend.
But we can look forward to more laughs in court this week courtesy of Steve Miller. Somebody call "Entertainment Tonight."
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