It's a Ferret Life

Worthy foe for Aguirre sitting on the bench

Holy ferrets!

Confidants of Judge Jan Goldsmith are swearing he is a candidate for San Diego city attorney. The formal announcement will come in a week or two when Goldsmith begins a leave of absence. Until then, the judge is on ice, even to a recovering editorial writer who typed a ringing endorsement for Goldsmith's maiden council race in 1988.

To be sure, other candidates are running against Michael Aguirre. Attorney and columnist Dan Coffey, for example, and Deputy District Attorney Bill Gentry. Both worthy, I'm sure.

But trust me. Goldsmith's résumé is high on the carat count. It glitters.

Goldsmith has run for – and won – office in at least five contested elections. He was Poway's first elected mayor. He was a three-term assemblyman during a particularly tumultuous period in Sacramento's history. Always personable, for the past nine years he has been cultivating his gravitas as a judge in East County.

It's no secret the big city's business and labor leaders have been looking for a white knight to unhorse Aguirre. Goldsmith, it appears, is the designated grown-up who's been asked – begged? – to rid San Diego of what a critical mass sees as the unstable wrath of Aguirre.

It's a long, rocky road to the June primary. Much can change. The commentariat is almost guaranteed to get it wrong at this early stage.

Still, it seems unfathomable now that Goldsmith would be eclipsed by two stronger candidates in the June primary.

That's not to say Goldsmith is the second coming of Pete Wilson.

But in North County anyway, he's pretty close.

I first met Goldsmith when he interviewed with the editorial board of the now-defunct Times Advocate. The 37-year-old rookie candidate for Poway council struck me as unusually thoughtful, a quality I often associate, in men at least, with a receding hairline.

Six years later, Goldsmith's response to our shared tonsorial challenge would result in one of the more memorable political put-downs.

Goldsmith, it turns out, had a sentimental soft spot for the scofflaw owners of domestic ferrets. In the Assembly, he authored a bill granting amnesty to the polecat relatives that some regard as dangerous.

After the legislation was rejected for the second time, Assembly Speaker Willie Brown said, “That bill is deader than the thing on his head,” alluding to Goldsmith's new hairpiece.

Just imagine. Goldsmith, a ferret champion, possibly squaring off against Aguirre, the recent champion of Balboa Park's squirrels.

A domestic ferret vs. a wild squirrel. Now there's an intriguing matchup.

Beyond ferrets, Goldsmith is perhaps best remembered for filming a short documentary that presaged the grainy cinéma vérité of the Minutemen.

In 1994, Goldsmith got wind of droves of Mexican children crossing the border at Tecate and boarding a bus to East County schools. In terms of impact, his widely publicized taping of the daily migration rivaled the footage of illegal immigrants racing through traffic at the border crossing, images that spawned the iconic Caltrans signs still visible today.

Latino activists blistered Goldsmith, accusing him of stalking innocent children and stirring up ethnic hatred. But Goldsmith insisted that American schools should be free to legal residents of this country, not Mexico.

On several other political fronts, the generally moderate Goldsmith sided with then-Gov. Wilson, alienating the conservative Republican wing of the Legislature.

In 1998, after being force out of the Assembly by term limits, Wilson rewarded his loyal ally, appointing Goldsmith to the bench following his loss in a Republican primary for state treasurer.

In normal times, Goldsmith might be considered overqualified to be city attorney. But these are not normal times.

Poway Mayor Mickey Cafagna told me he was bowled over when Goldsmith told him last week that he was going to strip off his robe to jump into the rapids of city politics. But in short order, Cafagna was on board with his good friend, whom the mayor called a “tough campaigner.”

“He thinks something needs to be done down there,” Cafagna said. “He said, 'I think the city is going down the tubes.' ”

Goldsmith assured Cafagna that he wouldn't be a city attorney who would be afraid of afflicting the comfortable at City Hall.

“I'm not going to lay down and let them think they're off the hook,” Goldsmith told Cafagna.

Cafagna said Goldsmith cited polling data indicating his name recognition is still alive, especially in the northern reaches of the city.

As for money, Goldsmith has his own resources, Cafagna said, but the donations are sure to flow if he is perceived by business leaders as at least a sure-fire finalist against Aguirre in the November runoff.

For months, resonant names have bounced around the echo chamber: San Diego Council President Scott Peters as well as Alan Bersin, former U.S. attorney and school superintendent. But these are inherently divisive figures. Either one would draw – and yield – gallons of blood if they tangled with Aguirre.

Such contests might be thrilling to contemplate, but probably not so nice for the city's self-image.

Goldsmith, on the other hand, should appeal to the broad nonpartisan middle desperately seeking sobriety in the City Attorney's Office.

Out on the edges of the political spectrum, old hostilities may simmer about Goldsmith, but for almost a decade he's been out of play. As a San Diego slate, he's pretty clean. And solid.

All told, it's good to see Goldsmith back – with or without a dead thing on his head.