A Vote for Letting the Sacramento Show Begin

The Los Angeles City Council doesn’t want to show telecasts of state legislative sessions on the city’s public affairs channel.

The Assembly has offered to let the city pick up its sessions for free. So far, the city has said no. As a news junkie, I was enraged. I demanded an explanation. Nobody would talk on the record. But one city official said, “Why should we put on their show when we have our show?”

He was speaking of the telecasts of Los Angeles council meetings. In other words, the Los Angeles City Council is afraid of competition.

I protested that the City Council has a duty to show legislative sessions. None of the Los Angeles television stations cover Sacramento unless there’s a terrible crisis. People here never see their state legislators in action.

The City Hall official was unmoved. I suggested a plan: Have the Sacramento gang put together a highlights tape of “Great Moments in the Legislature.” It would be like a National Football League highlights film. If you enjoy the tape, pick up the sessions. He shook his head and walked away. I interpreted this as permission to go ahead.

I advise state legislators to begin their highlights tape with the Legislature’s great fights.

One would be the 1 a.m. Peace vs. Ferguson scuffle in a corridor in the Capitol last week. According to witnesses, Democratic Assemblyman Steve Peace of Rancho San Diego slapped Republican Assemblyman Gil Ferguson of Newport Beach. The older but trickier Ferguson slipped the slap. It merely glanced off his shoulder.

Then we’d go into the archives and pick up the most famous fight, the 1974 battle of the century between former Assemblymen Lou Pappan, who used to be in the FBI, and Kenny Meade, an ex-UC Berkeley football player. Meade was KOd, his head cut and his eye blackened.

Of course, the star of “Great Moments” would be Assembly Speaker Willie Brown of San Francisco. We’d see him at the rostrum, elegant in one of his many beautifully cut suits, making even the best dressed of his 79 colleagues look a bit dowdy. Democrats approach him with respect and fear, happy for a few small words from the Godfatherly boss. Republicans sit nervously at their desks, waiting for the next time he tries to slip something by them.

“Great Moments” will show how he almost did, late last Friday night. A Republican rookie, the lowest form of life in Brown’s world, presented his first bill. Brimming with good intentions, Jeff Marston of San Diego asked for an aye vote on legislation raising the fines for illegally parking in handicapped zones.

From somewhere in his expensive suit, Brown pulled an opinion from the legislative legal office saying that Marston’s bill violated a procedural rule. Marston is being challenged in November by a Democrat Brown likes, and the Speaker didn’t want to build up the Republican.

When the other Republicans figured out what was happening, they rallied to Marston’s side. They refused to vote for one of the Speaker’s bills, denying him the two-thirds majority he needed for its passage. Six hours later, Brown surrendered.

That brings up the final highlights segment, humiliation. The Marston episode was humiliating for all concerned. But for real humiliation, we return to the archives, to the days of the late Speaker Jess Unruh in the 1960s. He knew how to humiliate.

We’ll show his revenge upon a Republican from South Gate, Floyd Wakefield. Wakefield had crossed Unruh. During a Capitol remodeling, the Speaker gave him a temporary office. The office also happened to be the men’s toilet. When colleagues used the urinals, they walked past Wakefield, whose desk was in a small entry alcove. He could hear the flushes, and presumably worse, from his desk.

It’s understandable that the council would be afraid of such telegenic competition. The highlight of a council week is often ceremonial Friday, when restaurant owners, family friends, campaign contributors, city retirees, Little League baseball teams and foreign visitors are given hand-lettered proclamations and honored with long speeches. The only excitement is watching council members get mad when Gloria Molina lectures them. Instead of Willie Brown’s suits, the council has Marvin Braude’s plaid sport coats and polyester blazers.

That won’t sell in the era of the Simpsons.

Still, the City Council members ought to allow the Sacramento show on their station. Given the attitude of local television news directors, it is the only way Los Angeles viewers will ever see their state lawmakers at work. Whenever news directors here are asked why they don’t cover Sacramento, they insist no viewers are interested.

I doubt that. At any rate, excitement--and ratings--shouldn’t be standards for scheduling public television. Let the show begin.