Mayor Faulconer on the back porch of City Hall, contemplating the distinct possibility that his political fortunes have sunk lower than a snake’s belly in a wagon rut.
“I don’t see why anybody should complain,” said Mayor Faulconer at yesterday’s press conference in which he declared Thanksgiving officially canceled for the city of San Diego. “You’re not allowed to gather, anyway. If you tried to do a Thanksgiving under these conditions, it’d just remind you of how awful things are compared to the way they ought to be. You’d look around your table at the same dumb faces you’ve been looking at since March, and you’d look at the turkey you’re going to be harvesting for leftovers for the next month since there’s not nearly enough people present to eat the damn thing, and you’d think of your elderly loved ones reheating frozen dinners for one in their crappy quarantined apartments halfway across the country, and you’d start fighting the urge to either weep uncontrollably or skip dinner entirely and move straight on to the bourbon. I’m doing you a favor, one that really, if I’m being honest, ought to be enough to make you forgive me for the Ash Street mess, the smart streetlights, and all the other crap that is forever reminding me that THERE IS NOTHING TO BE THANKFUL FOR. No, it’s not because I’m likely to be the last Republican mayor this stinking city ever elects, and it’s definitely not because I can kiss my hopes for governor goodbye now that Sea World is set to die on my watch. Now shut up and go home, order a pizza on Thursday, and mask up between bites, just like your Democrat Governor Newsom said.”