iDiot

In a folding beach chair, next to the green Dumpster, in the rain.

by Duane Swierczynski

He played it right up to the last minute.

You have to give him that much.

While the rest of the country was treated to photos of him, sitting on a folding beach chair next to a Dumpster, smiling for the cameras, you know the thought had to be lurking in the back of his mind.

Just 48 hours, and I'm home free.

Just let me make it to Sunday morning.

Then I can dance atop the concrete skirt surrounding our majestic City Hall, skipping freely, and I'll be able to call whoever I want. And ooh, surf the Internet at the same time!

At about the same time that he unfolded that beach chair in the rain, right next to a green Dumpster, a bomb plot was foiled in London. Then another car was found, packed with the same kinds of explosives. Later, two men would drive a flaming car into a Glasgow airport.

As the alleged leader of the fifth ... sorry, sixth largest city in the U.S., you think he'd want to be someplace different. Perhaps checking on intelligence briefs — if such things exist in City Hall — and wondering if there's anything he should do.

Instead, he sat there, thinking about Sunday.

Just let me make it to Sunday ...

Or maybe the burgeoning string of UK terrorist attacks were too far afield for him; maybe he still prides himself on being intensely focused on the city. After all, wasn't he in charge when that magazine called Philadelphia the "next great city"?

Sitting on a folding beach chair, next to a green Dumpster, in the rain.

Thinking about Sunday.

Even till midnight Sunday. Let me make it until midnight.

It took a 22-year-old kid in a mohawk to shame him into leaving the line — albeit, temporarily. As well as a bunch of ordinary citizens who had the temerity to approach him and ask, Hey, don't you have any work to do today?

Like maybe doing something about the rivers of blood flowing through the worst sections of this city?

But no.

He was sitting on a folding beach chair, next to a green Dumpster, in the rain.

Sunday.

So, so close.

There's so much stuff I want to try with this new phone.

Here in the CP offices, a bunch of us followed the story — which quickly went national — with an uneasy stew of humor and outrage brewing in our guts. Humor, because it's almost an absurdist comedy. Outrage, because he's, like, the guy in charge of our city.

Managing Editor Brian Hickey's the one who did the homework and found this item, buried in the Philadelphia Home Rule Charter.

According to section 9-105:

No recall petition shall be filed against any incumbent of an elective office within the first year or the last six months of the term of his office or within six months after an unsuccessful recall election against him but an officer who has been reelected for a successive term shall be subject to recall also during the first year of such term.

The last six months of his term began ... Sunday.

If only I can make it to Sunday.

Well, he did.

Welcome to the last six months of his term, in which he can do pretty much anything he wants.

Like make calls.

Put someone on hold. Just for the fun of putting them on hold.

Listen to music.

Set up new widgets.

Watch something on YouTube.

From anywhere.

He doesn't understand the fuss. He thinks people have be to more educated, he told the Inquirer. After all, thanks to modern technology, you can be almost anyplace and not do anything about dozens of the city's most disadvantaged people getting shot to hell.

And so, with the green Dumpster and the folding beach chair in the rain, the last pretense of him officially giving a shit has been stripped away.

We will dance when he leaves office and there's finally an adult in charge.

Meanwhile, hope he enjoys his phone.

(duane@citypaper.net)