Mayor Cantrell – Give Up the Pontalba. Clearly, We Need To Have An Intervention With The Mayor

Enough damage done. Now it’s time. No time for a veto. Exit the building. Do it quickly, stage left, head down, out the back door where the surveillance camera or Lee Zurich can’t see you. He will tell J.P., you know. Then he’ll tell Newell Normand. And he’ll tell the people who sit around all day listening to talk radio. And they’ll…. Yeah, it failed, the recall. But still, Mayor Cantrell, you blew it. You should know that. If you don’t, somebody on your staff should tell you. Whisper it in your ear or stir it in your tea. Sip on it. Let it settle. Then do what’s best for your legacy and renounce your Pontalbaship.

Your welcome’s been worn out there, among other things allegedly.

Mayor Cantrell – Give Up the Pontalba

Yet, the Pontalba, the Pontalba, the Pontalba, there it is dominating the news. It must be a mystical place, this Pontalba, alluring and addictive. Somehow, it has possessed our mayor and null and voided her capacity for common sense. That’s the only thing that could explain what’s happening here.

Under its spell, the mayor has apparently skipped meetings and ducked out on work to supposedly lay up with her bodyguard in the Pontalba. She’s found herself involved in a payroll fraud scandal because of his time spent in the Pontalba. She was  named in a divorce filing because of what allegedly went down with him in the Pontalba. Photos have been taken. Footage released. It’s been utterly embarrassing. But still, the Pontalba, the Pontalba, the Pontalba. She clings to it like Gollum with the precious.

City Council members have tried to intervene. They’ve filed the equivalent of two restraining orders ordinances. The mayor has responded in full Jennifer Holiday. “And I’m telling you…” Going back to host “dignitaries” during Essence and vowing to veto the latest ordinance.

The feds have questions. We citizens have questions. If the bodyguard wasn’t supposed to be on the clock, does that mean we paid for this alleged affair?

Mayor Cantrell – Give Up the Pontalba

Unconcerned about public perception, the mayor talks about the privileges afforded the position and other blah, blah, blah. That’s bad logic fueled by pride. Just knock it off, ma’am. Just knock it off. You lost this round when you got caught skipping work to hang out in the apartment doing who knows what with your private security officer. The Pontalba is a P.R. nightmare now.  And since it’s in no way essential to you doing your job you should just do like Michael Jackson and moonwalk right away from it and all the negative press it brings.

Of course, the high road is a road less traveled by this mayor. But in this case, she should put on her seatbelt and floor it. A simple statement would suffice:  As mayor, I ain’t got time for this foolishness. I got bigger things to worry about, like preparing a budget and finally interviewing a future police chief. So fine. I won’t step foot in that ole funky ass apartment anymore.

Mayor Cantrell – Give Up the Pontalba

Then just like that, boom! Face saved. Crisis averted. Yes, there’ll still be 99 other problems but at least the Pontalba won’t be one.

But me, you, and the wind knows that stands little chance of happening. Like with the consent decree judge, the mayor will continue picking the wrong fights at the wrong times. And the ones who’ll suffer are future mayors. In a term and a half, she’s downgraded the position.

Before Latoya Cantrell, the mayor of New Orleans could appoint whoever they wanted to head city departments, could wine and dine friends at a free French Quarter pad, and could reward their supporters with grants from the Wisner Fund. Now the Fund is gone, the pad is in jeopardy, and future heads will have to shuck and jive before the City Council for approval.

So go ahead and fight this battle. It’ll be one more fitting embarrassment to add to your legacy.  Thanks, mayor.