By On the occasion of our 20th anniversary
By Gustavo Arellano
By R. Scott Moxley
By Alfonso Delgado
By Courtney Hamilton
By Joel Beers
By Peter Maguire
By Charles Lam
Photo by Jeanne RiceTUESDAY, NOV. 16
6:30 p.m. Arrive at Gypsy Den Cafť Grand Central for release party of my new book of poetry, Learning to Speak. Buy delicious French roast. Pace.
6:45 p.m. Smoke vigorously.
7 p.m. Comprehend immense competition from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Smoke vigorously while pacing.
7:30 p.m. Am greeted by OC Libertarian Party vice chairman Doug Scribner. Asked to sign petition for his run for member of Central Committee. Confess I've never heard of the position. Am informed that it's a position—elected by Libertarian Party members within our supervisorial district—that does nearly nothing. While Republicans and Democrats use the Central Committee to elect officers, limited-government-lovin' Libertarians don't use it for much of anything.
7:35 p.m. Am entreated to run for position myself, as there are 11 slots open. Am told I'm almost guaranteed to win. Ask if I'd be responsible for anything or required to attend meetings or such. Am told "no."
7:38 p.m. Am told that I'll receive a plaque.
7:39 p.m. Hear call to duty and fill out spare paperwork Scribner conveniently has on him. Am disappointed when informed that job pays nothing but heartened by eligibility to be delegate to convention next year in Anaheim. After Tailhook, have always wanted to attend a convention.
7:45 p.m. Persuade Scribner to do all the hard work, like getting petition signed. Go outside to smoke vigorously and pace.
8:30 p.m. Poetry reading begins. Forget politics momentarily.
8:45 p.m. Read tortured, moving verse. Hawk book shamelessly. Did I mention it's called Learning to Speak?
9 p.m. Publicly announce my candidacy. Discover no one in room but Scribner can vote for me, including my girlfriend.
9:01 p.m. Go back to hawking book instead. Learning to Speak: ask for it by name!
10 p.m. Plagued by journalistic ethics; realize need to expose my shady past of sex and drugs. Decide to consult Libertarian presidential candidate and Miami Herald humor columnist Dave Barry for advice first thing in the morning.
11:45 p.m. Realize well-documented anti-El Toro International Airport stance may haunt me in my North County district. Resolve to hold fast to position while soliciting George Argyros for fat contributions, invitation to invest in Pacific Liberty Bank, and a lifetime membership to the Huntington Beach Wal-Mart.
11:48 p.m. Resolve to expose my own hypocrisy in the pages of the OC Weekly . . . before R. Scott Moxley does.
11:52 p.m. Begin composing classified ad for "leggy intern." Fall asleep smiling.
WEDNESDAY, NOV. 17
7:30 a.m. Wake. Smoke vigorously.
8:45 a.m. Am rebuffed by Dave Barry's secretary. Bitch.
9:15 a.m. Hold first press conference, announcing my candidacy in the immense offices of the OC Weekly. My audience consists entirely of reporters Anthony Pignataro and Matt Coker.
9:21 a.m. Pignataro and Coker finally stop laughing.
9:22 a.m. Am dismissed out of hand as a serious candidate. Make note to damn the liberal media in campaign speeches.
9:28 a.m. Continue work on hard-hitting news story on Congressman Ron Packard's shady campaign finances. Take close notes for future campaign fund-raising strategies.
11:45 a.m. Receive phone call from Registrar of Voters informing me that—because I've only been a registered Libertarian since May and was a Democrat before—I am ineligible for the position I was running for. Registrar mentions something about being on the lookout for possible stealth candidates ever since "that Scott Baugh mess."
11:48 a.m. Argue vehemently the unfairness of my being unable to run while presidential wannabe Pat Buchanan can change parties overnight to secure the Reform Party presidential nomination. Am informed, "I know Pat Buchanan. I worked alongside Pat Buchanan. And you, sir, are no Pat Buchanan."
11:49 a.m. Thank the registrar for the compliment.
Noon. Cry. Smoke half a pack of cigarettes. Decide to renounce politics for the foreseeable future.
1:45 p.m. Receive conciliatory phone call from Barry. We cry together.
1:46 p.m. Ask Barry if he'll buy my new book, Learning to Speak.