Jerry Brown with reporters.
(Photo: Debra Walker)

This weekend, the flat and fair city of Sacramento hosted the state’s Democratic Convention. With Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger on his way out, and a crowd of termed-out San Francisco Progressives looking to get in, attendees felt the excitement while they were still on the interstate freeway or the Amtrak Capitol Corridor train.

Once things began, a long-time Dem, August Longo, stepped on Progressive star Chris Daly’s hope to become a Regional Director for the party. Naturally, charges of “hackasaurus” and “power grab” began to fly between the two camps.

Gavin Newson with his crowd in the crowd.
(Photo: Luke Thomas, FogCityJournal.com)

For their part, the Progressives weren’t alone in sneering at San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom’s attempt to assume the hip-tech cred of none other than Barack Obama. Newsom’s team had amassed a whopping Twitter and Facebook following for their candidate, and even concocted a special “Gavin Drop” cocktail in his honor.

Unfortunately, attendees who were drawn to the Wyclef Jean show at Newsom’s “Block Party” became irate when a system with color-coded wristbands limited their access to VIP areas, restaurants, and even proper bathrooms.

As expected, the heaviest sniping came from Newsom’s turf in San Francisco; his homeys even disparaged the size of his security detail.

By contrast, they noted that Jerry Brown had little by way of a “posse,” and delivered his usual satisfying speech. Brown may be to politics what any Barrymore is to theater: talented, born to it, and been around forever. His “Recession Reception” with little more than chips and salsa got high marks for being sensitive to the current no-frills mood. The biggest hit of the weekend may have been the nostalgic sight of the baby blue Plymouth he used when he was governor thirty years ago.

Jerry Brown's old car: not exactly a Hummer.
(Photo: Luke Thomas, FogCityJournal.com)

Tulchin Research, in a poll from early April, shows Brown maintaining a lead of 31 percent among likely Democratic primary voters. Newsom polls at 16 percent of likely Democratic primary voters. That is ahead of Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa, who polls at 12 percent.

So where was Villaraigosa? Stuck back in L.A. with union budget negotiations, and either unwilling or unable to be the spoiler for anyone’s race. He took the opportunity to stay above the fray and grant press interviews. Dianne Feinstein still hasn’t jumped in, and John Garamendi is now officially running instead for U.S. Congress.

(Photo: Bill Barnes)

One complaint about the good time in Sacramento: that the bars should stay open later. Maybe to enjoy those Gavin Drops?

More extensive, fun-to-read coverage at CalBuzz.

The Rich, the Strong, and the Detested (Photo: FogCityJournal.com)

After all, the beaming hosts who greeted the guests and urged them to help themselves to the ample bar food and flowing booze were the very same ones who had terrified them not so long ago. They were the Residential Builders Association, known to not a few San Franciscans as strapping lads with Irish accents who would threaten opponents to their building projects with lawsuits, criminal investigations, and worse.

The other hosts were Platinum Advisors. For such a powerful outfit, with massive contracts to develop such gems as Treasure Island, it seemed strange that nobody knew who was from Platinum, much less what they looked like.

Local politicians who had called for reform of one kind or another over the past eight or so years made short, humorous remarks. The atmosphere was at times almost giddy, with the thought that developers and neighbors might, at long last, have achieved their own detente, their own post-partisan cooperation. If Ireland and Northern Ireland could do it…

On his way out, former Mayor Willie Brown stopped to deliver a jolly parting riposte to Supervisor Chris Daly, who was possibly the biggest nail in the rolling rubber tire of San Francisco development. Brown’s face was alight with the joy of loading a killer punchline about to be delivered. “You know the real reason they threw this party?” he asked, and paused, making sure he had the attention of his very small audience. “The real reason was so they could finally tell all of these people: ‘Fuck you!’”

And with an immediate explosion of mirth, he went off into the evening.

Local talk of the event here.