Yesterday, Single Gal gave her unvarnished look at the six who would be mayor, unfazed and unfettered by any personal knowledge or great familiarity with any of them. I am more encumbered—I know all of them and I like them all as people. Many of them have done good things on the council and in their public careers.  But this is not an election about who we like, though some make their choices in this manner.  It is about the type of city we wish to build for our children and grandchildren and want to live in ourselves. We need to decide who can best deliver this kind of city.

Alright, alright people!  Not enough politics on this site?  Well here is my two cents on the political scene, Single Gal style (as I am sipping Mai Tais in a tropical location far from San Jose).  Here are a couple of quick, initial thoughts on the candidates before the real fun begins!

The canning industry got its start in 1871 when Dr. Dawson and his wife canned some fruit over an old cook stove in their backyard on The Alameda.  From this humble start, a huge industry developed right here in San Jose for three basic reasons: the fruit was grown here, there was a ready supply of labor and two railroads, Western Pacific and Southern Pacific, built rail sidings right to the canning plants.

Watchdog Groups Fear Censorship

Hot on the heels of Google’s successful implementation of their internet-censoring product in China, Mayor Gonzales has ordered the popular new totalitarian version of the search engine’s “Great Firewall” software to be immediately installed on his City Hall net servers. All internet searches originating within the city will now be routed through this new google.com/rg network.

Mark the 25th of March on your calendar, PDA, or forearm. On that day, the Ancient and Honorable Order of E Clampus Vitus (ECV) will be in Alviso for a monument dedication, and everyone is invited, even Alvisophobes. The plaque will commemorate the port and town of Alviso. Yes, Alviso was a port, and though it was illegally subsumed into San Jose in 1968, it is for all practical purposes still a town, in appearance like a Mexican village (not counting a few rows of $700,000 townhouses).

Well, here we go—the race for mayor is on. With the addition of David Pandori, the field is now at six. Or is it? 

After a Friday night out in San Jose that consisted of a Sharks game and a trip to O’Flaherty’s for a few drinks, my group of friends and I decided that we wanted to go dancing.  But, since it was nearly one o’clock in the morning, did the desire to dance in San Jose mean I needed to take my life into my own hands? 

The “Legislature of a Thousand Drinks” is the unmerited sobriquet remembering the first State Legislature of California held here in San Jose in late1849 and early 1850.  The elected senators and assemblymen were all very young men—most of whom had been in California for less than two years—with little or no training in law, and yet they made some of the most important laws governing our state, most of which are still in effect today.  The total budget for the first year of operation was $348,000.

Might Lead to Pandemic of Political Recidivism

A recently released scathing report by San Jose State University found that many of the state’s mayors were not able to pass the California Mayoral Exit Exam now required in cities with a human population that is less than the number of its registered lobbyists.

Last night, Ron Gonzales gave the final State of the City address of his tenure as mayor. We invite our readers to comment on the text of the speech and reflect on how city politics have changed since Gonzales became mayor. What will be the legacy of the Gonzales years? What is your view of the state of our city and where we should go from here?

I know art is often spoken of in phrases like “art for art’s sake,” but when I survey the status of public art in our city, I just scratch my head. I can’t fathom what we are doing.  We all know the sad and bizarre story of the statue of Captain Fallon raising the flag. My fingerprints are on that series of mistakes and I share blame. And the Aztec god in Chavez Plaza is, likewise, a well-known saga. But those are the past and we need to move on.

I found myself throwing an impromptu Super Bowl party at my place on Sunday because I didn’t know one person who was having one.  Anyone who didn’t have anything else to do came over. I was thinking: does anyone even throw Super Bowl parties anymore, or is it just too much work?

Part Two

Prohibition brought chaos. There was no longer any control over alcohol quality or purity.  Bootleggers flourished, sometimes killing their customers with bad hooch.  If you knew the password, usually “Joe sent me,” and could afford it, then you could get a shot of “bathtub gin” at George’s on South First Street, out at the Hoo-Hoo House on Stevens Creek Road, or at many other local “blind pigs.” 

Government Expected to Reduce City’s Dependence on Oxygen

Despite the surging population growth expected in San Jose with development of Coyote Valley—which estimates place at as many as 120 million people, or the equivalent of any 40 U.S. states combined—the city is expected to have a full supply of oxygen through early 2010.

Albinos have been sighted chasing cars on ominous Hicks Road. They have been seen lurking about in the woods above The Cats Restaurant in Los Gatos. And a large enclave of albinos frolics in the gorges of upper Alum Rock Park. Urban legends of flesh-eating albinos are not unique to San Jose. Google “albinos urban legend” and countless links from communities all over the world provide harrowing accounts of albinos emerging from the dark in search of human flesh or poodle meat.

The mayor’s annual State of the City speech just seems to get smaller and smaller. Where will it stop? When I moved from the old Parkside Hall to the new Fairmont in 1989—for what I hoped was a new, new State-of-the-City era—I thought it was going to be a great day; and it was, for a bit. After the Unity Breakfast, as we used to call it, the fire marshal—in a fit of pique—cited the event for overcrowding; not quite the ending I had hoped for. (The citation inspired a few negative articles and cartoons, including one depicting a dog with my head on it urinating on a fire hydrant labeled “FIRE CODE.”)