Local Elections : Political Fun and Games : Jokes, High Jinks Level the Rhetoric in Four S.D. City Council Races

Ron Roberts may well be the Great Carnac of Campaign ’87.

Carnac, as most late-night television viewers know, is a character played by comedian Johnny Carson who predicts the answers to unseen questions. Minus Carnac’s famous hermetically sealed mayonnaise jar from Funk and Wagnall’s porch, Roberts uses the same technique to begin many of his public appearances in his campaign for the San Diego City Council 2nd District seat.

“I have the answer to your first question,” Roberts tells bemused listeners. “The answer is: ‘Two Super Bowl tickets.’ ”

Then, after a well-timed pause, Roberts adds, “And the question is: ‘Why are you putting yourself through this?’ ”

Hiiiii-yooooooohhhh!

Politics may be a serious business, but the campaigns for the four open City Council seats being contested this fall--races in which Super Bowl tickets are only one of the victors’ perks--have been marked by frequent moments of humor, some intentional, others inadvertent.

Amid all of the candidates’ ponderous promises, high-minded calls to civic duty and can-do gushiness, the flashes of humor are welcome respites from their mind-numbing--and frequently indistinguishable--pledges to control growth, reduce crime, increase employment, clean up pollution and other platitudes.

The occasional clever turn of phrase, sophomoric gimmicks, sarcastic digs at opponents--these and other moments sometimes reveal more about a candidate than their daily repetitions of standard stump speeches that, over the months, create a kind of political time warp where the days may change but the rhetoric remains the same.

“A lot of times, a general feeling about your personality and character is the main thing that people take away from these forums,” 8th District candidate Neil Good said. “Besides, you need a sense of humor to keep things in perspective.”

One of Good’s chief contributions to the light side of the campaign involves his “Good people,” life-size cardboard cutouts of people that serve as a frequent prop in his public appearances.

From a distance, the cardboard figures look remarkably lifelike and often produce double-takes from passers-by. On several occasions when he placed the figures in front of restaurants, patrons later told him of their relief, Good said, when they realized that “it wasn’t the line to get in.”

Good, now on leave from his position as

administrative assistant to county Supervisor Leon Williams, also has occasionally served as an unwitting straight man for one of his opponents, college history professor Bob Filner.

At a recent candidates’ forum in North Park, Good provided a particularly eloquent answer about the future of Balboa Park, concluding by saying that the park “needs a guardian to insure that it’s not paved over by everyone who wants a piece of it.”

Filner had already answered the same question with a rather bland, noncommittal response. But when he got his next turn to speak, Filner provoked loud laughter from the audience by saying: “I’ve decided I liked Neil’s answer on Balboa Park the best and I’m adopting it as my own.”

“Bob’s done that to me a couple of times,” Good said later. “I hope people will decide to go with the original instead of the carbon copy.”

No Mercy for Gaffes

Another 8th District candidate, lawyer Michael Aguirre, is a skilled debater quick to pounce on his opponents’ rhetorical gaffes. After businessman Bob Castaneda answered a question at one forum about the possible relocation of Lindbergh Field by saying that he is “committed to looking at the viable options,” Aguirre cast Castaneda an incredulous glance and delivered this zinger: “Bob, I want to congratulate you for taking the courageous position of studying the viable options.”

Later, however, Aguirre himself stumbled when he followed up one of Good’s responses by saying, “I’m not sure I understand what Neil’s position is, but I think I agree with it.” Thanks to that answer, Aguirre found that the audience that minutes earlier had been laughing with him now was laughing at him.

The candidates’ similarity on most major issues often makes it sound, in the words of 8th District contender Gail MacLeod, “like the needle is stuck on the record.” On occasion, however, a candidate manages to clearly separate himself from the pack.

Such is the case with frequent candidate John Kelley, who told one 8th District audience that he believes that San Diego needs a second major airport so that Lindbergh Field “can be used just for incoming flights.” With the other candidates biting their lips, no one asked the obvious question.

For some of the long shots in the council races, self-deprecating humor has proved to be an effective tactic that produces, if not votes, at least laughs among campaign audiences. For example, in the 2nd District race, pharmacist Raffi Simonian simply shrugs and admits that the major candidates’ frequent finger-pointing over who is receiving the most contributions from development interests has little relevance to his campaign.

“I’ve only raised $2,000--thank God for my mother and father,” Simonian jokes. Simonian also draws chuckles with this oft-used comment: “I’m the only candidate who’s a pharmacist. And I may be the last pharmacist who ever runs by the time this campaign is over.”

Meanwhile, another 2nd District candidate, magician Loch David Crane, enlivens campaign events by setting off flash powder in his hands to demonstrate that he could “work magic at City Hall” and by quoting from Mr. Spock of the television show “Star Trek.” Crane also may be the only candidate to ever distribute a campaign brochure that includes a photo of him in a straitjacket above the headline, “This man is NOT crazy.”

Crane argues that his magic tricks and comical banter--”San Diegans would rather be entertained by prestidigitation than fooled by financial manipulation,” he says--are a more effective method of conveying his message than “just standing up there in a gray suit like the rest of them saying, ‘Blah, blah, blah.’ ”

But Crane could face one magic trick that he may not expect on Sept. 15: Primary voters on that day are expected to make him disappear from the race.

Candidates often wish that they could silence their opponents, but few are able to do so as dramatically as lawyer Bob Ottilie did to lawyer Bruce Henderson at a recent 6th District forum in Mission Beach.

In response to a question about his position on the largely symbolic ballot initiative to halt the controversial development of a restaurant and shopping complex at Belmont Park, Henderson discussed the issue at length but did not specify how he would vote.

Amid shouts of “Yes or No!” from the audience, Ottilie handed the microphone back to Henderson, offering him 10 seconds of his speaking time to provide an answer. When Henderson still did not give a direct answer, Ottilie picked up an extension cord leading to the microphone and, with a theatrical gesture, pulled the plug as the audience erupted with applause.

The biblical adage, “He that is without sin . . . let him first cast a stone,” has political applications as well, as some candidates have learned to their chagrin.

In the 4th District race, Marla Marshall has drawn strong criticism as a “carpetbagger” from some community leaders and her fellow candidates over the fact that she moved into the district earlier this year to satisfy political residency requirements. Typical of the remarks directed at Marshall is that of candidate De De McClure, who calls her “a foreigner.”

Marshall, however, delights in turning the tables by gleefully pointing out that McClure’s own campaign headquarters is located in the 3rd District.

“So who’s the foreigner?” Marshall asks.

And the Rev. George Stevens, who tells audiences that his more than 25 years of community service have given him “the best grasp of the facts and the issues,” was embarrassed by an open letter to the district in which he wrote, “I ask your help and your support on Election Day, Sept. 14”--the day before the election.

Sometimes, candidates’ plans for publicizing their candidacy do not work out precisely as they had hoped. Jim Ryan, for example, was distressed earlier this summer when he noticed that most of his yard signs had disappeared.

Taking a break from the campaign trail to attend a San Diego Padres-Houston Astros baseball game, Ryan chuckled as he saw some of his campaign signs being waved throughout the stadium as the Astros’ pitcher--Nolan Ryan--approached the mound.

Eighth District candidate Paul Clark thought that passing out Clark candy bars was a good way to help voters remember his name. At one forum, though, Clark noticed that the candy bars were being eaten by his opponents--trying, perhaps, to take a bite out of his support.

And finally, there is the case of 6th District candidate Robert McCullough, whose woes have ranged from being disqualified from the ballot for his failure to secure enough valid signatures on nominating petitions, to being prosecuted for removing City Council members’ financial disclosure reports from City Hall.

Undeterred by the first setback, McCullough plans to continue his uphill campaign as a write-in candidate. But he may face more serious problems as a result of his conviction last week for petty theft and stealing government records.

McCullough is scheduled to be sentenced on Sept. 15--primary day. Which means that, to be on the safe side, he probably should vote before going to court.