THE BOY WHO WOULD BE THE BOY WHO WOULD BE MAYOR
or, why pose tough questions when you can just
steal easy answers?
You will remember, of course, that last Sunday's
Pittsburgh Post-Gazette featured an essay, commissioned by PG OpEd/Forum
Editor Greg Victor, that I wrote about the lack of hard work and true leadership
in the seats of present-day Pittsburgh power. As the dozens of emails I've
received since its publication attest, that piece struck a chord with many of
the PG's readers, including some up-and-coming leaders in the tech and
health care fields. Now that chord seems to have resonated, and perhaps
painfully reverberated, in the head of one David Caliguiri, son of former
Pittsburgh Mayor Richard Caliguiri -- a leader who, it should be noted, I
singled out for praise in an early draft of that piece; that paragraph was one
of the last to go when I had to edit for length and focus -- communications
consultant active in local Democratic Party politics, and, judging by his response in this morning's paper, misser of
both key points and common sense.
To wit:
In Chad Hermann's Feb. 3 Forum piece "Opinion 250: The view from on high" he writes how "For too long now ... we've talked too much, asked too much of others and worked too little ourselves." I couldn't agree more, which is why I'm compelled to ask - isn't Chad doing the very same thing?
Setting aside for a moment that Mr. Caliguiri knows next to nothing about me -- we'll grant that he may have paid a visit to my blog and perhaps done a cursory Google search before deciding to criticize me in print -- or about what else I do, and assuming that, because I kept a very low profile while doing so, he does not know that I spent three months working my ass off in the inner circle of a mayoral campaign that would have brought a long-needed ideological sea change to the desolate shores of Grant Street, let's focus instead on a few simple facts:
1) Writing has always been, and will always be, a powerful means of political agitation.
2) Writing in a public forum, especially when expressing a viewpoint many people feel but have not often seen articulated in a public forum, can inspire the kinds of work and action that Mr Caliguiri seems to want but, alas, fails to prescribe.
3) Mr. Caliguiri, obviously unimpaired by an ability to recognize irony, thinks I'm merely prolonging the problem by writing an essay for the Post-Gazette and so decides to correct me, to do me one better, to show me how it should be done -- by writing an essay for the Post-Gazette.
(I really should stop right there, because it tells you everything you need to know about the rational and ideological consistency to follow. But you know me. I just can't resist...)
Although Chad writes a very thoughtful piece, it seems that he too is just talking and waiting for someone else to come to the rescue.
It seems that Mr. Caliguiri has not read well and thoughtfully enough. Perhaps he really does not understand the role of writing in the political process. Perhaps he's blinded by his activity in the local Democratic Party, an institution to which I am opposed not politically -- I am, after all, a card-carrying D -- but practically, since its one-party mix of arrogance and incompetence has indisputably and inevitably led us to this point. Or perhaps he just wants to be the one to come to the rescue. Maybe he's thinking about leveraging his last name -- we've all heard the rumors, haven't we? -- and running for mayor next year, and he thinks this would be a good time to jump in, score a few, cheap PR points, and position himself as the young, valiant prince on the rise.
But more on that later.
I understand he wants to make a point, but his point would be better made if he offered something more than a simple recitation of Pittsburgh's challenges.
You know, something truly deep and probing and maybe even revolutionary. Like what Mr. Caliguiri is about to offer.
Or not.
Like so many Pittsburghers, I love our city. I love the rich diversity that our neighborhoods boast. I love our parks. I love our sports teams - even during the losing years.
(As I was saying...)
That's some truly revolutionary, forward-thinking stuff there, David. You love the parks, the diversity, the neighborhoods, the sports teams, and even the whole darned city. Wow. I can just feel all our troubles melting away in the face of those deeply principled stands. Now I see what you mean about the need to offer more than a simple recitation of Pittsburgh's challenges. Apparently what we really need is a simple-minded recitation of peachy keen things we love about Pittsburgh.
Among the dozens of emails I received in the wake of my PG piece came a note of thanks for avoiding the sort of tired pablum that all the other Pittsburgh 250 pieces had, in that writer's opinion, so far contained. I doubt he'll send the same note to Mr. Caliguiri.
I respect our sense of tradition and I admire the strong work ethic that makes us Pittsburghers.
I'll bet he also likes pierogies, Primanti's sandwiches, ice cream, apple pie, and long, moonlit walks along Mt. Washington. If only he'd thrown in a nod to the universities and the hospitals and maybe a God bless or two, he'd sound like he's ready to run for office.
Unless, of course, he is. But, like I said: more on that later.
And like so many,...
So many what?
...I too am a little disenchanted with the direction of our city.
Oh, yeah. This guy is definitely "active in local Democratic party politics." Who else would stop at a little disenchantment?
However, I don't believe writing about how bleak the future looks is the right approach.
It's a good thing no one's done that. I know I didn't do it.
My piece, after all, ended with an exhortation, a call to inspiration and action that urged readers to demand more from their leaders, and to summon the pride and courage and fierce determination of all the generations of Pittsburghers before us who, when told they could not possibly do any better, vowed that they would, and did.
That doesn't sound too bleak to me. But perhaps it does to a guy who thinks that hanging in with the Pirates during the losing years counts as a supreme act of personal pride and political sacrifice.
It has been said that the world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who won't do anything about it.
Einstein said that. He was talking about the Nazis. So you can see its relevance here.
Add to pablum both non sequitur and melodrama. And sorely missing the original point. But by now, that should be more than obvious.
It occurs to me that a better use of our energies would be to offer up some ideas on how to make Pittsburgh look as good on Grant street as it does high up on Mt. Washington.
If Mr. Caliguiri had bothered to read between the lines, or even really to think about, what I'd written -- yes, I know; if his writing is any indication, those must not be easy tasks for him -- he would have seen that there are quite a few suggestions, or at least pointed prescriptions, of what we might need or do to improve this city. But he didn't. And he didn't. And so he decides to (ahem) think deep for himself and offer up a few of these big ideas.
Here are a few suggestions to give us something to think about.
By which he means, a few suggestions we've all heard plenty of times before, just to give us something to think about that we've already thought about and then not done. Consider:
It is well known that Pittsburgh's pension fund doesn't match our pension liabilities, so why don't we band together and storm the halls in Harrisburg and demand a fair solution.
When you're lagging almost six months behind The Boy Who Would Be Mayor, you're not exactly breaking new intellectual ground, Mr. Caliguiri. And since Master Ravenstahl has been telling anyone who'll listen -- including those other, equally whining mayors around the state -- that we just need to go to Harrisburg, dunce cap in hand, to solve our pension problems, I'm not sure how this qualifies as some great new idea for us to think about. (Unless, of course, band together and storm the halls is not just tired metaphor but an actual, literal suggestion.)
In an earlier draft of my PG piece, I'd included a reworked version of a paragraph that appeared here on TWM several weeks ago, bemoaning our city and county leadership's constant go to Harrisburg for help refrain. It went something like this:
"Since we've heard this same thing over and over again from our (ahem) esteemed county executive, from our Boy Mayor -- who practically wore out the phrase during last year's mayoral campaign; every time Mark DeSantis asked how he planned to solve a problem, Master Ravenstahl either denied the problem existed or suggested he'd just go to Harrisburg, wish list in hand -- and from a whole lot of other elected officials around here, it begs the question: Why in the hell doesn't anyone ever stay at home and try to find a solution for their spending problems?
That was, of course, a rhetorical question. Because we all know the answer: no one around here, save for the guy we didn't elect, seems to believe in cleaning up our own mess.
When my father was Mayor, that's exactly what he did.
Well, yes. And we see how well it worked. And how well it continues to work.
It's time to demand sensible, progressive reform out of Harrisburg that will help Pittsburgh solve its pension crisis.
In other words: let's go out and run up our credit card debt, then see if Dad will bail us out and pay for it. And if he doesn't, well, we''ll just bitch and moan and say he could have done more to help us. (Which, of course, he could. But why should he?)
It is not too much to ask Harrisburg to give us the tools to address this problem.
Are we asking now? I thought we were demanding. Do we ask before we demand? Do we demand before we ask? And when do we band together and storm? Because this is all the same problem, right? I think I'm getting confused. I had no idea going to Harrisburg could be so complicated.
(You'll excuse me while I take a moment to clear my head.)
(Okay. Thanks. Now...)
I'd say it's not too much to ask for us to address our own problem. To come up with our own solutions. To show some good faith and make some actual progress on our own before we go to Ma & Pa Legislature and ask them to give us money that we don't have and that, by the way, they don't have either.
The inefficiency of the Port Authority is a problem that must be addressed,...
But I'm just going to gloss over it in this clause so I can move on to hopeful, positive platitudes about far less complex and demanding issues. (You know, just like Dan and Luke and the rest of them.) And as I do so, you can just ignore my glibness and my unctuousness as you do theirs.
...but we should also consider what other cities and states already seem to know -- that a strong public transit system can boost your economy.
Now there's a revelation. Gee, David, where have you been all our lives? We really could have used a visionary like you sooner. Who among us would have thought that strong public transit can boost an economy?
For the record, here's one of those subtle prescriptions that Mr. Caliguiri seems to have missed: my suggestion that a real and workable plan for overhauling and strengthening the Port Authority -- one already proven successful in several cities on two continents -- had already appeared in the pages of the PG and should, in fact, be considered by the bureaucrats and drink-taxers in charge.
Let's now plan how to extend our light rail system to Oakland and the airport and how to pay for it.
Yet another startling -- indeed, revolutionary -- Caliguiri original.
Except, of course, that people have been talking about planning these things, and planning on talking about them, and talking about talking about them, and planning to plan for them, for well over a decade now. And nothing has even come close to being started. (But we do, as I noted in last week's essay, have a nifty north shore connector chunnel of a white elephant currently digging under the Allegheny. So I guess that's something.)
But, you know, maybe we were all just waiting for the poor-reading, smug-writing son of a former mayor to suggest them in print. Now that Mr. Caliguiri has urged us all to do it, well, watch those sparks fly and those light rails run! I imagine construction will be under way within the hour.
It's not too much to ask, we just need to come together and make our demands heard by those that we elect.
And then all our problems will be solved. And we'll still have two wishes left for the genie!
Is he serious? Really? Can he possibly be so naive? So simplistic? My God. At this point in the (ahem) essay, I double-checked the byline to be sure the last name was Caliguiri, not Pollyanna.
Our outdated tax structure needs to be reformed to increase the livability for our residents and the economic competitiveness for our businesses.
Wow. Another one. Did he think up all these great ideas himself? In only one week? Impressive.
Though considerably less so when you consider that lots of people -- most notably Mark DeSantis, who ran for mayor last year, and whose platform contained real, detailed plans to make these things happen -- have been making the same suggestions. And a whole lot more people have been paying lip service to them along the way.
You'd think, would you not, that a guy so committed to so many of these not-exactly revolutionary but still pretty damned sound and sensible ideas would have supported Mark DeSantis for mayor. Wouldn't you?
Well, hold that thought. For just a few moments longer.
Why don't we begin by creating a practical approach to what regional governance might look like.
You mean city-county consolidation? Another thing that Mark DeSantis supported in his mayoral bid. While The Boy Who Would Be Mayor fiddled and talked about trash collection in Wilkinsburg.
And while we're at it, let's cut the state corporate taxes that drive away our jobs and explore every efficiency possible so that more of our limited resources are put to making every neighborhood more livable.
Oh, yes. Let's.
Now.
How the hell are we going to do that, David? Just snap our fingers? Do we band together and storm again? Demand? Or just ask? What's proper protocol when just dialing up Harrisburg and telling them what he want? Is there a secret code word? Can we get them to lower our income taxes and property taxes too? How about increasing the hours at the state stores and maybe, while we're at it, getting them to put a car in every driveway and a chicken in every pot. And maybe, just maybe, we could all have state legislators come over to our houses on Sunday afternoons and wash those cars and cook those chickens and maybe even mow our lawns. Wouldn't that be nice?
I mean, as long as we can get all this stuff to happen just because we want it to, we may as well keep asking for stuff, right? I had no idea it was this easy.
Now. As for exploring efficiencies...
...hmm. That sounds an awful lot like taking on some of those Act 47 recommendations and doing more with less and trying to trim some fat from the city's "structurally balanced" but still bullshit-bloated budget. And that, yet again, sounds an awful lot like what Mark DeSantis was advocating in last fall's election, doesn't it?
You know -- but without the specifics. Or the details. Or the actual plan to make it happen.
(Anyone but me by now a little queasy with the hypocrisy of someone who criticizes a detailed problem statement of an essay for lack of detail, then strings together a series of tired platitudes and borrowed policy plans painfully lacking substance and detail? Yeah. I thought so.)
It's not too much to believe that we can create jobs here in Pittsburgh and improve the quality of life in our neighborhoods.
Who, exactly, doesn't believe that, David? You wanna name some names? Identify some of those straw men?
While you're thinking, I'll let you know that, here at least, you sound frighteningly like The Boy Who Would Be Mayor again, crossed with at least a generous helping of Dr. Phil. Maybe you really are ready to run for office. You already have the self-importance, the vapid patter, and the empty rhetoric down to a painful, soulless science.
We all love our city and want to reclaim our stake as truly the most livable city in America.
I thought we already did. Don't you read Places Rated Almanac? Or the Post-Gazette?
Remember, Theodore Roosevelt said that Pittsburgh gave a lesson to the rest of the United State because our actions spoke louder than our words.
Yes, I do remember. Perhaps because I'm the one who first used that quotation in an op-ed.
It's bad enough that you're ripping off every one of your allegedly great and deep suggestions for Pittsburgh, but now you're ripping off a rhetorical device from the very composition about which you're writing to complain? Who are you, Joe Biden?
I believe that our time has come when we can once again teach the rest of America how to rebuild a city.
I believe I've never read such a vacuous, self-important piece of pseudo-intellectual detritus in all my life. The gap between what it is and what it purports to be is so deep and wide that it makes the Delaware Water Gap look like just another one of the wrinkles on my left thumb.
I am confident that this same desire compelled Mayor Lawrence to see Pittsburgh thru Renaissance I and guided my father's vision for Renaissance II.
I am confident that, were it written by someone with a last name of Potts or Cipriani or any surname other than Caliguiri, it would never have seen the light, nor diminished the dignity, of the newsprint on which it now appears.
But now it's our turn, so what do we do?
Write poorly and think too highly of ourselves, I suppose.
Perhaps the real answer is that it is up to all of us, collectively, to lead Pittsburgh to our next Renaissance.
And this (ahem) essay sure does get us off to a rousing start.
I know that our best days are still in front us;...
The future's so bright, he's gotta wear shades. The big, silly, rose-colored kind that render you unable to see details or specifics or the hard work it will take to accomplish them.
Apparently my piece last week didn't go far enough. Because as Mr. Caliguiri's pieces makes clear, it ain't just a view from on high that distorts your perspective.
...the only question that remains is who among us has the courage to take action and lead the way.
You don't suppose he thinks he does, do you? Let's recap:
A young, good-looking guy with a gold mine of a last name, active in local Democratic Party politics and already rumored to be considering a run for the mayor's office, leaps into the editorial fray with a feel-good, Mom-Dad-and-apple-pie-positive, let's-get-busy-and-everything'll-be-alright bit of political pablum that suggests he is as skilled at public posturing as he is unskilled at critical thought, riding just enough to the Democratic Party rescue that he can earn a nod and a wink from the machine, yet still hopeful and change-driven and (dare I say) Obaman (without the eloquence, of course) enough to appeal to the voter base, all the while offering nothing new and nothing even of substance. If this piece is any indication, it's clear that, should he decide to run for mayor next year, Mr. Caliguiri will be leveraging his last name, an ear for the politics of ideological vacuity, and not much else.
But. Hmm. You see, there's this great, big elephant in the room that I've been petting and putting off until now, but to which I'd finally like to call your attention.
As I noted several times above, at least a few of Mr. Caliguiri's (ahem) suggestions -- at least the more practical, workable ones -- sounded an awful lot like the things that Mark DeSantis was saying last fall. You'd think that a guy who really believed them -- yes, even a Democrat -- and who really loved his city as he says would have strongly considered, and maybe even supported, Mark's mayoral bid. And you would be right.
David Caliguiri did support Mark DeSantis' mayoral bid. At least behind closed doors.
He told key members of DeSantis' inner circle that he wanted Mark to win. Those key members of that inner circle, sensing a chance to get an endorsement attached to the Caliguiri name, reached out to Mr. Caliguiri several times. Mr. Caliguiri was kind and gracious and encouraging, but he would not go public with his support.
Now. There are only two possible reasons for this:
1) He was lying to the DeSantis people.
2) He was covering his own ass, not wanting to piss off anyone in the local Democratic Party machinery, lest they hold a grudge and withhold support in a future mayoral primary.
I don't know which it is. I suspect, especially given this PG piece, that it's #2. But I don't really care. Because either way, both last fall and now this morning, Mr. Caliguiri proves himself to be just another part of the problem, one more local (in this case, aspiring) leader who cares far more about himself and his power base and his own bottom line than about the good of his city or the progress of his region. He seems, in other words, to be precisely the kind of public figure about which I complained, and against which I railed, in last Sunday's Forum section. And I suppose that, as much as anything else, is why he felt compelled to respond.
After all, when someone fires a shot over your own uncomfortable bow, it's hard to resist firing one in return. Even if that volley is doomed to land far short of your mark.
I don't think that's too much to ask.
I don't even know what the hell we're asking anymore. But I'm too distracted to care, because I'm too busy trying to figure out how a guy who writes like this, a guy who can barely be bothered to follow his own logical and narrative throughlines, can find work as a communication consultant. Unless, of course, it's for the same reason he managed to get that piece published, the same reason -- besides, of course, the sad and sobering reign of The Boy Who Would Be Mayor -- that he thinks he'll be able to get elected: that great, but now awfully sullied, birthright of a last name.
To wit:
In Chad Hermann's Feb. 3 Forum piece "Opinion 250: The view from on high" he writes how "For too long now ... we've talked too much, asked too much of others and worked too little ourselves." I couldn't agree more, which is why I'm compelled to ask - isn't Chad doing the very same thing?
Setting aside for a moment that Mr. Caliguiri knows next to nothing about me -- we'll grant that he may have paid a visit to my blog and perhaps done a cursory Google search before deciding to criticize me in print -- or about what else I do, and assuming that, because I kept a very low profile while doing so, he does not know that I spent three months working my ass off in the inner circle of a mayoral campaign that would have brought a long-needed ideological sea change to the desolate shores of Grant Street, let's focus instead on a few simple facts:
1) Writing has always been, and will always be, a powerful means of political agitation.
2) Writing in a public forum, especially when expressing a viewpoint many people feel but have not often seen articulated in a public forum, can inspire the kinds of work and action that Mr Caliguiri seems to want but, alas, fails to prescribe.
3) Mr. Caliguiri, obviously unimpaired by an ability to recognize irony, thinks I'm merely prolonging the problem by writing an essay for the Post-Gazette and so decides to correct me, to do me one better, to show me how it should be done -- by writing an essay for the Post-Gazette.
(I really should stop right there, because it tells you everything you need to know about the rational and ideological consistency to follow. But you know me. I just can't resist...)
Although Chad writes a very thoughtful piece, it seems that he too is just talking and waiting for someone else to come to the rescue.
It seems that Mr. Caliguiri has not read well and thoughtfully enough. Perhaps he really does not understand the role of writing in the political process. Perhaps he's blinded by his activity in the local Democratic Party, an institution to which I am opposed not politically -- I am, after all, a card-carrying D -- but practically, since its one-party mix of arrogance and incompetence has indisputably and inevitably led us to this point. Or perhaps he just wants to be the one to come to the rescue. Maybe he's thinking about leveraging his last name -- we've all heard the rumors, haven't we? -- and running for mayor next year, and he thinks this would be a good time to jump in, score a few, cheap PR points, and position himself as the young, valiant prince on the rise.
But more on that later.
I understand he wants to make a point, but his point would be better made if he offered something more than a simple recitation of Pittsburgh's challenges.
You know, something truly deep and probing and maybe even revolutionary. Like what Mr. Caliguiri is about to offer.
Or not.
Like so many Pittsburghers, I love our city. I love the rich diversity that our neighborhoods boast. I love our parks. I love our sports teams - even during the losing years.
(As I was saying...)
That's some truly revolutionary, forward-thinking stuff there, David. You love the parks, the diversity, the neighborhoods, the sports teams, and even the whole darned city. Wow. I can just feel all our troubles melting away in the face of those deeply principled stands. Now I see what you mean about the need to offer more than a simple recitation of Pittsburgh's challenges. Apparently what we really need is a simple-minded recitation of peachy keen things we love about Pittsburgh.
Among the dozens of emails I received in the wake of my PG piece came a note of thanks for avoiding the sort of tired pablum that all the other Pittsburgh 250 pieces had, in that writer's opinion, so far contained. I doubt he'll send the same note to Mr. Caliguiri.
I respect our sense of tradition and I admire the strong work ethic that makes us Pittsburghers.
I'll bet he also likes pierogies, Primanti's sandwiches, ice cream, apple pie, and long, moonlit walks along Mt. Washington. If only he'd thrown in a nod to the universities and the hospitals and maybe a God bless or two, he'd sound like he's ready to run for office.
Unless, of course, he is. But, like I said: more on that later.
And like so many,...
So many what?
...I too am a little disenchanted with the direction of our city.
Oh, yeah. This guy is definitely "active in local Democratic party politics." Who else would stop at a little disenchantment?
However, I don't believe writing about how bleak the future looks is the right approach.
It's a good thing no one's done that. I know I didn't do it.
My piece, after all, ended with an exhortation, a call to inspiration and action that urged readers to demand more from their leaders, and to summon the pride and courage and fierce determination of all the generations of Pittsburghers before us who, when told they could not possibly do any better, vowed that they would, and did.
That doesn't sound too bleak to me. But perhaps it does to a guy who thinks that hanging in with the Pirates during the losing years counts as a supreme act of personal pride and political sacrifice.
It has been said that the world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who won't do anything about it.
Einstein said that. He was talking about the Nazis. So you can see its relevance here.
Add to pablum both non sequitur and melodrama. And sorely missing the original point. But by now, that should be more than obvious.
It occurs to me that a better use of our energies would be to offer up some ideas on how to make Pittsburgh look as good on Grant street as it does high up on Mt. Washington.
If Mr. Caliguiri had bothered to read between the lines, or even really to think about, what I'd written -- yes, I know; if his writing is any indication, those must not be easy tasks for him -- he would have seen that there are quite a few suggestions, or at least pointed prescriptions, of what we might need or do to improve this city. But he didn't. And he didn't. And so he decides to (ahem) think deep for himself and offer up a few of these big ideas.
Here are a few suggestions to give us something to think about.
By which he means, a few suggestions we've all heard plenty of times before, just to give us something to think about that we've already thought about and then not done. Consider:
It is well known that Pittsburgh's pension fund doesn't match our pension liabilities, so why don't we band together and storm the halls in Harrisburg and demand a fair solution.
When you're lagging almost six months behind The Boy Who Would Be Mayor, you're not exactly breaking new intellectual ground, Mr. Caliguiri. And since Master Ravenstahl has been telling anyone who'll listen -- including those other, equally whining mayors around the state -- that we just need to go to Harrisburg, dunce cap in hand, to solve our pension problems, I'm not sure how this qualifies as some great new idea for us to think about. (Unless, of course, band together and storm the halls is not just tired metaphor but an actual, literal suggestion.)
In an earlier draft of my PG piece, I'd included a reworked version of a paragraph that appeared here on TWM several weeks ago, bemoaning our city and county leadership's constant go to Harrisburg for help refrain. It went something like this:
"Since we've heard this same thing over and over again from our (ahem) esteemed county executive, from our Boy Mayor -- who practically wore out the phrase during last year's mayoral campaign; every time Mark DeSantis asked how he planned to solve a problem, Master Ravenstahl either denied the problem existed or suggested he'd just go to Harrisburg, wish list in hand -- and from a whole lot of other elected officials around here, it begs the question: Why in the hell doesn't anyone ever stay at home and try to find a solution for their spending problems?
That was, of course, a rhetorical question. Because we all know the answer: no one around here, save for the guy we didn't elect, seems to believe in cleaning up our own mess.
When my father was Mayor, that's exactly what he did.
Well, yes. And we see how well it worked. And how well it continues to work.
It's time to demand sensible, progressive reform out of Harrisburg that will help Pittsburgh solve its pension crisis.
In other words: let's go out and run up our credit card debt, then see if Dad will bail us out and pay for it. And if he doesn't, well, we''ll just bitch and moan and say he could have done more to help us. (Which, of course, he could. But why should he?)
It is not too much to ask Harrisburg to give us the tools to address this problem.
Are we asking now? I thought we were demanding. Do we ask before we demand? Do we demand before we ask? And when do we band together and storm? Because this is all the same problem, right? I think I'm getting confused. I had no idea going to Harrisburg could be so complicated.
(You'll excuse me while I take a moment to clear my head.)
(Okay. Thanks. Now...)
I'd say it's not too much to ask for us to address our own problem. To come up with our own solutions. To show some good faith and make some actual progress on our own before we go to Ma & Pa Legislature and ask them to give us money that we don't have and that, by the way, they don't have either.
The inefficiency of the Port Authority is a problem that must be addressed,...
But I'm just going to gloss over it in this clause so I can move on to hopeful, positive platitudes about far less complex and demanding issues. (You know, just like Dan and Luke and the rest of them.) And as I do so, you can just ignore my glibness and my unctuousness as you do theirs.
...but we should also consider what other cities and states already seem to know -- that a strong public transit system can boost your economy.
Now there's a revelation. Gee, David, where have you been all our lives? We really could have used a visionary like you sooner. Who among us would have thought that strong public transit can boost an economy?
For the record, here's one of those subtle prescriptions that Mr. Caliguiri seems to have missed: my suggestion that a real and workable plan for overhauling and strengthening the Port Authority -- one already proven successful in several cities on two continents -- had already appeared in the pages of the PG and should, in fact, be considered by the bureaucrats and drink-taxers in charge.
Let's now plan how to extend our light rail system to Oakland and the airport and how to pay for it.
Yet another startling -- indeed, revolutionary -- Caliguiri original.
Except, of course, that people have been talking about planning these things, and planning on talking about them, and talking about talking about them, and planning to plan for them, for well over a decade now. And nothing has even come close to being started. (But we do, as I noted in last week's essay, have a nifty north shore connector chunnel of a white elephant currently digging under the Allegheny. So I guess that's something.)
But, you know, maybe we were all just waiting for the poor-reading, smug-writing son of a former mayor to suggest them in print. Now that Mr. Caliguiri has urged us all to do it, well, watch those sparks fly and those light rails run! I imagine construction will be under way within the hour.
It's not too much to ask, we just need to come together and make our demands heard by those that we elect.
And then all our problems will be solved. And we'll still have two wishes left for the genie!
Is he serious? Really? Can he possibly be so naive? So simplistic? My God. At this point in the (ahem) essay, I double-checked the byline to be sure the last name was Caliguiri, not Pollyanna.
Our outdated tax structure needs to be reformed to increase the livability for our residents and the economic competitiveness for our businesses.
Wow. Another one. Did he think up all these great ideas himself? In only one week? Impressive.
Though considerably less so when you consider that lots of people -- most notably Mark DeSantis, who ran for mayor last year, and whose platform contained real, detailed plans to make these things happen -- have been making the same suggestions. And a whole lot more people have been paying lip service to them along the way.
You'd think, would you not, that a guy so committed to so many of these not-exactly revolutionary but still pretty damned sound and sensible ideas would have supported Mark DeSantis for mayor. Wouldn't you?
Well, hold that thought. For just a few moments longer.
Why don't we begin by creating a practical approach to what regional governance might look like.
You mean city-county consolidation? Another thing that Mark DeSantis supported in his mayoral bid. While The Boy Who Would Be Mayor fiddled and talked about trash collection in Wilkinsburg.
And while we're at it, let's cut the state corporate taxes that drive away our jobs and explore every efficiency possible so that more of our limited resources are put to making every neighborhood more livable.
Oh, yes. Let's.
Now.
How the hell are we going to do that, David? Just snap our fingers? Do we band together and storm again? Demand? Or just ask? What's proper protocol when just dialing up Harrisburg and telling them what he want? Is there a secret code word? Can we get them to lower our income taxes and property taxes too? How about increasing the hours at the state stores and maybe, while we're at it, getting them to put a car in every driveway and a chicken in every pot. And maybe, just maybe, we could all have state legislators come over to our houses on Sunday afternoons and wash those cars and cook those chickens and maybe even mow our lawns. Wouldn't that be nice?
I mean, as long as we can get all this stuff to happen just because we want it to, we may as well keep asking for stuff, right? I had no idea it was this easy.
Now. As for exploring efficiencies...
...hmm. That sounds an awful lot like taking on some of those Act 47 recommendations and doing more with less and trying to trim some fat from the city's "structurally balanced" but still bullshit-bloated budget. And that, yet again, sounds an awful lot like what Mark DeSantis was advocating in last fall's election, doesn't it?
You know -- but without the specifics. Or the details. Or the actual plan to make it happen.
(Anyone but me by now a little queasy with the hypocrisy of someone who criticizes a detailed problem statement of an essay for lack of detail, then strings together a series of tired platitudes and borrowed policy plans painfully lacking substance and detail? Yeah. I thought so.)
It's not too much to believe that we can create jobs here in Pittsburgh and improve the quality of life in our neighborhoods.
Who, exactly, doesn't believe that, David? You wanna name some names? Identify some of those straw men?
While you're thinking, I'll let you know that, here at least, you sound frighteningly like The Boy Who Would Be Mayor again, crossed with at least a generous helping of Dr. Phil. Maybe you really are ready to run for office. You already have the self-importance, the vapid patter, and the empty rhetoric down to a painful, soulless science.
We all love our city and want to reclaim our stake as truly the most livable city in America.
I thought we already did. Don't you read Places Rated Almanac? Or the Post-Gazette?
Remember, Theodore Roosevelt said that Pittsburgh gave a lesson to the rest of the United State because our actions spoke louder than our words.
Yes, I do remember. Perhaps because I'm the one who first used that quotation in an op-ed.
It's bad enough that you're ripping off every one of your allegedly great and deep suggestions for Pittsburgh, but now you're ripping off a rhetorical device from the very composition about which you're writing to complain? Who are you, Joe Biden?
I believe that our time has come when we can once again teach the rest of America how to rebuild a city.
I believe I've never read such a vacuous, self-important piece of pseudo-intellectual detritus in all my life. The gap between what it is and what it purports to be is so deep and wide that it makes the Delaware Water Gap look like just another one of the wrinkles on my left thumb.
I am confident that this same desire compelled Mayor Lawrence to see Pittsburgh thru Renaissance I and guided my father's vision for Renaissance II.
I am confident that, were it written by someone with a last name of Potts or Cipriani or any surname other than Caliguiri, it would never have seen the light, nor diminished the dignity, of the newsprint on which it now appears.
But now it's our turn, so what do we do?
Write poorly and think too highly of ourselves, I suppose.
Perhaps the real answer is that it is up to all of us, collectively, to lead Pittsburgh to our next Renaissance.
And this (ahem) essay sure does get us off to a rousing start.
I know that our best days are still in front us;...
The future's so bright, he's gotta wear shades. The big, silly, rose-colored kind that render you unable to see details or specifics or the hard work it will take to accomplish them.
Apparently my piece last week didn't go far enough. Because as Mr. Caliguiri's pieces makes clear, it ain't just a view from on high that distorts your perspective.
...the only question that remains is who among us has the courage to take action and lead the way.
You don't suppose he thinks he does, do you? Let's recap:
A young, good-looking guy with a gold mine of a last name, active in local Democratic Party politics and already rumored to be considering a run for the mayor's office, leaps into the editorial fray with a feel-good, Mom-Dad-and-apple-pie-positive, let's-get-busy-and-everything'll-be-alright bit of political pablum that suggests he is as skilled at public posturing as he is unskilled at critical thought, riding just enough to the Democratic Party rescue that he can earn a nod and a wink from the machine, yet still hopeful and change-driven and (dare I say) Obaman (without the eloquence, of course) enough to appeal to the voter base, all the while offering nothing new and nothing even of substance. If this piece is any indication, it's clear that, should he decide to run for mayor next year, Mr. Caliguiri will be leveraging his last name, an ear for the politics of ideological vacuity, and not much else.
But. Hmm. You see, there's this great, big elephant in the room that I've been petting and putting off until now, but to which I'd finally like to call your attention.
As I noted several times above, at least a few of Mr. Caliguiri's (ahem) suggestions -- at least the more practical, workable ones -- sounded an awful lot like the things that Mark DeSantis was saying last fall. You'd think that a guy who really believed them -- yes, even a Democrat -- and who really loved his city as he says would have strongly considered, and maybe even supported, Mark's mayoral bid. And you would be right.
David Caliguiri did support Mark DeSantis' mayoral bid. At least behind closed doors.
He told key members of DeSantis' inner circle that he wanted Mark to win. Those key members of that inner circle, sensing a chance to get an endorsement attached to the Caliguiri name, reached out to Mr. Caliguiri several times. Mr. Caliguiri was kind and gracious and encouraging, but he would not go public with his support.
Now. There are only two possible reasons for this:
1) He was lying to the DeSantis people.
2) He was covering his own ass, not wanting to piss off anyone in the local Democratic Party machinery, lest they hold a grudge and withhold support in a future mayoral primary.
I don't know which it is. I suspect, especially given this PG piece, that it's #2. But I don't really care. Because either way, both last fall and now this morning, Mr. Caliguiri proves himself to be just another part of the problem, one more local (in this case, aspiring) leader who cares far more about himself and his power base and his own bottom line than about the good of his city or the progress of his region. He seems, in other words, to be precisely the kind of public figure about which I complained, and against which I railed, in last Sunday's Forum section. And I suppose that, as much as anything else, is why he felt compelled to respond.
After all, when someone fires a shot over your own uncomfortable bow, it's hard to resist firing one in return. Even if that volley is doomed to land far short of your mark.
I don't think that's too much to ask.
I don't even know what the hell we're asking anymore. But I'm too distracted to care, because I'm too busy trying to figure out how a guy who writes like this, a guy who can barely be bothered to follow his own logical and narrative throughlines, can find work as a communication consultant. Unless, of course, it's for the same reason he managed to get that piece published, the same reason -- besides, of course, the sad and sobering reign of The Boy Who Would Be Mayor -- that he thinks he'll be able to get elected: that great, but now awfully sullied, birthright of a last name.
Posted: Sun - February 10, 2008 at 09:25 AM
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Published On: Feb 11, 2008 02:16 PM
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Published On: Feb 11, 2008 02:16 PM