Last night, my dad took me to see Gavin Newsom being interviewed at the Commonwealth Club. Some highlights:
Interviewer: Let’s talk about sports.
Newsom: Sports are important…but ultimately, sports are games, they’re fun, they’re just games.
Interviewer: And they’re big business.
Newsom: Like I said.
I chuckle to myself. To millionaire mayor Newsom, big business is a game.
Newsom: You know, I created this amazing anti-poverty legislation…and the next day, the front page story is about my hair. My hair is not important!
Woman behind me, whispering: It’s kind of important.
After several probing questions citing Newsom’s critics, while Newsom got more and more vehement in his answers:
Interviewer: You seem kind of angry.
Newsom: I’m not angry.
Newsom: I’m passionate.
Interviewer: ‘Cause you seem angry.
Newsom: [Turns purple. Remains handsome.]
Overall, I’m sold. Not because he is a tall, gorgeous drink of water poured into an expensive suit who exudes an appealing mix of charm and smarm; not because he’s intelligent, articulate, and has a stunning memory for facts; not because he’s a millionaire who’s willing to date commoners; not because he seems sincere about ending poverty (and whatever you think about his programs, he is sincere about that, I think).
Wait, no, those are the reasons I like him.