Columnist Jon Ralston: G-Men should know better

Friday, March 4, 2005 | 4:46 a.m.

Jon Ralston hosts the news discussion program Face to Face on Las Vegas ONE and publishes the Ralston Report. He can be reached at (702) 870-7997 or at ralston@vegas.com.

WEEKEND EDITION

March 5 - 6, 2005

So while gubernatorial candidates in Carson City are dueling to pander to the property tax-hating mob, a couple of possible contenders were acting last week as if they have no governors on their behavior.

Mayor Oscar Goodman added to his anthology of asinine utterances by touting his love for alcohol to fourth graders -- followed up by a spin job that contained a non-apology apology, a denial that his remarks were inappropriate and, the piece de resistance, a snipe at a fourth grader for asking the mayor the controversial question of what he would want on a desert island.

Meanwhile, Rep. Jim Gibbons tried to upstage his fellow vaudevillian by first showing he can do the conservative froth in the friendly confines of Elko, where Birkenstock-clad hippies are routinely run out of town, only to be forced to acknowledge that the froth was counterfeit, lifted from a two-year-old rant by an Alabama auditor.

Goodman, who has made a career before juries and the public of spectacularly disguising phoniness and mendacity as sincerity and honesty, will cause some heads to shake and tongues to wag. But people love the manufactured character His Honor takes with him wherever he goes, like some corporeal hologram, and his ultra-Teflon will remain intact.

Gibbons, who in the last couple of months has snarled about communists and excoriated the Hollywood elite, surely will maintain his core supporters despite his gaffe-filled '05. But Elko may love rabid dogs; Las Vegas might not. And no one loves a plagiarist; so the Gibbons Teflon may not be Goodman quality.

Goodman tried to make this an issue of how he just can't help being honest (mob, what mob?), how he would never intentionally offend anyone (except when he moves his lips), and that he wouldn't talk about gin again to fourth graders (no commitment on other grades, though). If he weren't so serious -- and so delusional -- this would be funnier than most of Goodman's hackneyed mob and drinking bits.

But as the gin-soaked mayor takes the people downtown for a ride, Goodman just doesn't get it. Teen alcoholism is not funny. Exposing youngsters to booze is not smart.

His Honor apparently can't tell the difference between chatting up sycophants at First Friday with an oversized martini in his hand and being a role model for impressionable kids during Nevada Reading Week. (I wonder how his wife, who runs The Meadows School, which benefits from his gin deal, would feel if hubby did his "I love to drink" shtick to fourth graders there.)

What do you want on a desert island, mayor? How about saying a book? That would be a good answer for children, even if he named his semi-autobiographical work, "Of Rats and Men."

So what's next when the self-dubbed George Washington of mayors fields questions?

Kid: Were all those men you defended innocent, mayor?

Goodman: I cannot tell a lie so I cannot answer the question.

Or maybe he will deliver his favorite nursery rhymes. Goodman and the Three Bottles: This gin is too harsh, this gin is too mild but this gin is Bombay Sapphire and (and the price for me) is just right. Or Little Oscar the Hood: What red eyes you have, mayor. What smelly breath you have, mayor. Oh no! It's not the happy mayor; it's the big, bad drunk. Or the Little Mayor that Could Drink: Can the little mayor that could stop drinking until lunch? I think I can, I think I can ...

Or perhaps Goodman will revert to form and give the kids his twisted take on things?

Kid: What does "loyalty" mean, mayor?

Goodman: Loyalty is the most important thing in the world, young man. You must be loyal to your family and help them make money, whether it is the family that adopts you or your blood relatives. But you don't have to be loyal to people who work for you. You should use them to help you but when they have outlived their usefulness, you should toss them aside and, if need be, trash their good names.

Such a role model.

As for Gibbons, he is no poseur extraordinaire like Goodman, but he knows how to cater to an audience better than most. Gibbons decided that when in Elko, do as the Elkoans do. So he delivered a speech that would have to be heated up to be called raw meat, complete with the suggestion that those leftie losers be human shields in Iraq.

That was enough to engage the media and send the Democrats into paroxysms of partisan joy. But when it subsequently was learned that Gibbons pilfered the text from a 2003 speech given by Alabama Auditor Beth Chapman, then the outrage really started flowing.

And Gibbons could only manage a lame apology that was as weak as Goodman's. "Sometime back, I received an e-mail, and I saved the text of it," he said of the speech. "I don't remember who sent me the e-mail or when I received it exactly."

But he still felt free to repeat it, word for word? The more salient point is this: If you are going to steal something, steal something worthwhile. At least do what former presidential candidate Joe Biden did -- appropriate from a leader such as the British Labour Party's Neil Kinnock, not some obscure state auditor.

A few more mulligans and other Republicans -- Lt. Gov. Lorraine Hunt, state Sen. Bob Beers -- might start teeing up to run for governor.

The lessons of this week for the G-men are simple and yet probably won't take: Someone is always listening, no matter where you may be saying something stupid. So, in Gibbons' case, it's always better to use your own words; or, in Goodman's case, sometimes it's better to just keep your mouth shut.