Police Chief Stars in This ‘Survivor’

I’m about to propose a new television series to CBS about three people in public office who are challenged to remain in office while undergoing a series of obstacles that would easily destroy any ordinary person. It will be called “Survivor: The City.”

As an example of how it would work, let’s take a mythical person and call him Bernard Parks, and let’s say he’s a police chief.

In order to remain in office, he has to zoom past the snapping and backbiting of those in his command, duck through a barrage of poisoned arrows hurled by members of a police union, avoid the tiny but painful darts of an opportunistic mayor and jump, leap and zigzag over, around and through barriers placed in his path by various racial, religious, political, professional, legal, educational and journalistic factions.

If he wins, he gets another five years in the job, during which he will suffer the same painful and humiliating attacks, but at least he’ll get paid for it.

I forgot to mention that while the mythical chief is trying to survive, two others are on tracks beside him. One is a mythical mayor, Little Jimmy Hahn, and the other the mythical head of a police union, Mitzi Grasso.

Their job in the contest is to trip, bump or otherwise impede the progress of Parks in order to allow for their own survival at the end of his race. Then they compete with each other, and whoever is left standing wins the city.

If anyone still wants it.

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Some of you may have noticed that I have fashioned “Survivor: The City” roughly after the situation that exists today, in which a police chief, coincidentally named Bernard Parks, has not pleased everyone. When he walks into a room, 100% of those present in the place do not simultaneously smile, applaud, pat him on the back and sing his praises.

But then, come to think of it, he doesn’t need everybody. Even though the job of chief affects the entire population of the city, very few are given the opportunity to decide whether he’s doing the job he ought to be doing for the $250,000 a year he’s being paid by us taxpayers.

Those who make that determination are roughly the same groups of people who thought Daryl Gates would be a great chief and then, learning otherwise, had to finally bind and gag him and drag him out of office by his feet when he wouldn’t go. His “greatness” included smashing in doors with a ramrodding tank, fiddling while L.A. began burning in the 1992 riots and taking Nancy Reagan along on drug raids.

Unlike Parks, however, Gates was adored by the troops in his command, which shows that you can’t trust the judgment of the rank and file beyond deciding whether French fries are better with or without ketchup. One of the criticisms of Parks is that he’s aloof, but since when does a general drink beer with the grunts in a well-run army?

I have never been asked, for instance, to vote on the permanency of any of my editors, but I would probably vote against any one of them who has ever criticized me in any way whatsoever.

A series involving “Survivor: The Newspaper” would have to deal with brooding, bad-natured, nit-picking guys like me. I shudder to think of it. I’ve done pretty well with “Survivor: The Columnist,” but who knows what barriers I still may be facing? I shudder to think of that, too.

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After Gates, during whose tenure four cops beat the hoo-ha out of Rodney King, those in charge decided we needed an African American chief, and in our wisdom we reached out to Philadelphia.

And we got Wee Willie Williams. He seemed to come and go so fast I can’t even remember what he was like, except that he was jovial and buddied around with the little people. But that didn’t work either, and out he went.

So now we have Bernard Parks, whose term has been burdened by, among other events, the Rampart scandal, and who isn’t beloved by his men and who has allowed crime to exist. Under Gates, you might recall, we had no crime in the city, not a bit, not even a shoplifting, but we canned him anyhow. It was that battering ram and his endorsement of the chokehold that kept everything peaceful in the streets, but not in City Hall. Had he been allowed to use the battering ram on then-Mayor Tom Bradley, he might still be chief.

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I doubt that when the Police Commission meets in May it will give Parks another five years, and it’ll be goodbye, Bernie.

Unfortunately, unlike Disney President Michael Ovitz, who was canned after just 14 months in office, Parks won’t receive a buyout of $89 million. Maybe he’ll get a plaque and a decent pension, but that’s about it.

Then we’ll go hunting again for a chief who will be loved by his men, adored by the mayor, endorsed by the City Council, respected by the people, feared by the criminals and followed by the paparazzi. He must be part African American, part Mexican American, part Asian American and possess a gay daughter, a physically disabled son and a wife who looks like Halle Berry and sings mezzo-soprano in the church choir. Anyone out there who meets these qualifications, please feel free to apply. The Survivor Course is waiting.

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Al Martinez’s column appears Mondays and Thursdays. He’s at al.martinez@latimes.com.