Eddie Baggeweed holds forth on why California's problems are the nation's problems and why people who don't live in California should care about who becomes the state's next governor.
I ran into my buddy, Eddie Baggeweed, again down at the café the other day.
Eddie’s a good guy – works hard, pays his bills, keeps his nose clean – and I always enjoy our conversations.
I was sitting at a table with my computer open, reading a piece on SFGate.com about how San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom is spending a lot of time running around California and the rest of the country, trying to raise money for his gubernatorial bid, while the city faces an ever-growing list of all but intractable problems saddled with an absentee mayor.
"God, I’m glad I don’t live in California anymore. Newsom is such a douchebag," I said out loud, to no one in particular.
"You better hope he doesn’t win," a voice from over my shoulder said. "He may be out in California doing his best to fuck up that state but he’s still your problem."
Eddie came around from behind me and sat down in the opposite chair. He put his cup of coffee down on the table.
I asked him what he meant. Why on God’s Green Earth does it matter to me who the next Governor of California is?
"Because," Eddie said, "California, all by itself, is the seventh largest economy in the world, and what happens in California tends not to stay in California. If it’s in the shitter, the rest of the country has to pick up the slack, and if Newsom wins, you can guarantee that that is exactly where California will be – in the shitter, and for a good long time, too. Newsom can barely find own ass with both hands. How’s he gonna manage a complex operation like the State of California? I’ll tell ya how: he’s not – and it’s gonna cost you, me and every other taxpayer in this country a hell of a lot of money to pick up the pieces."
I thought Eddie had a good point, and I told him so.
"You’re goddam right I’ve got a good point," Eddie said, picking up his cup of coffee, "but that’s not the point. The point is this."
Eddie took a sip and put his cup down.
"Newsom doesn’t give a rat’s ass about anything but his own ambitions," Eddie said. "From Day One, he’s done nothing but use the mayor’s office as a stepping stone to something bigger. You think anything’s gonna change if he becomes the governor of California? No. In fact, it’ll get worse. This fucktard think’s he’s cut from presidential timber and unless he gets his ass kicked to the curb now and kicked hard, we’ll probably see him seven or eight years from now on the national stage. That, my friend, is something we cannot afford. Let him go back to swilling Chardonnay and fucking his friend’s wives. That way he won’t be able to do so much damage, and we’ll all be better off."
I had to admit, Eddie made a pretty compelling case. I told him I’d take a greater interest in the California governor’s race and maybe, through the magic of the internet, do something about it.
"There ya go," Eddie said, looking at his watch. "Alright, coffee break’s over. I gotta go."
And off he went.
I’m sure I’ll see him again soon, though.