Somebody Up There must love newspaper columnists because an amazing thing has happened.
He's baaaaaaack.
Joe Carollo. Popping out of his manhole like a jack-in-the-box. To run for the Miami City Commission again!
Thank you, God. Things had gotten so dull lately—we needed to be reminded of the bad old days, when city government was a circus and Joe was the head clown. Sure, there's still back-alley politics, but today it's all so tame and … civilized.
In a sick way, we missed Carollo. He was such great copy, guaranteed to say something indefensibly dumb, paranoid or just plain crass.
Joe claims he's mellowed, but don't bet on it. In this new campaign he's challenging the city's only elected black commissioner, and already Carollo has gone on Spanish-language radio likening his opponent to a common street looter.
Vintage Joe. This is the same sensitive fellow who once compared a black city manager to Idi Amin.
Ah, what memories.
Carollo saw spies and counterspies and Communists everywhere, and claimed to have a dashboard bomb detector in his car. He once offered to tell a Senate committee how Fidel Castro's agents had infiltrated the Miami Police Department.
Another time, Joe torpedoed a big Sister Cities convention planned for Miami after learning that a few of the participants came from Eastern bloc countries. Reds!
Not that Carollo didn't have a warm spot for some foreign visitors. Miss Universe contestants, for example. Joe nearly tripped over his agenda in a rush to pose for snapshots with visiting beauty queens.
And when Sheik Mohammed al-Fassi and his wealthy entourage blew into town, Joe tagged along like a drooling puppy, offering the key to the city and (not incidentally) the services of his own private security firm. Any normal person would have been embarrassed, but not Joe.
Who can forget that gloriously despicable double cross of Maurice Ferre during the 1983 mayor's race—Ferre, calling a press conference to trumpet Carollo's endorsement, only to watch Joe trash him mercilessly in front of the assembled media. Poor old Maurice looked like he'd swallowed a bad clam.
Some politicians can legitimately claim stupidity as an excuse, but not Carollo. His reckless words were unforgivable because he knew exactly what he was doing—appealing to the most primitive of voters' fears and biases. He once said: "Sometimes when people are trying to divert attention, they create ridiculous situations and allegations."
People finally figured out that Joe was talking about himself. By the end of his miserable tenure, he had offended, slandered and nauseated the multitudes and gained a statewide reputation as a venal backwater McCarthy—or worse, a parody of one. Even the staunchest of anti-Communist organizations repudiated his tactics.
Carollo's name was such political poison that people who didn't even live in Miami wanted to move here, just so they could vote against him. In 1987, he lost in a muckslide.
Ironically, the only commissioner in recent years to act as preposterously as Joe is the man he's running against, Miller Dawkins.
It was Dawkins who declared that Ronald Reagan created the plight of the homeless "when he fired the air traffic controllers." It was Dawkins who asked if it was legal to build a tall fence around the Camillus House to protect downtown Miami from the poor and the hungry who stay there.
And it was Dawkins who vowed to prevent an AIDS counseling center from opening near Overtown—"if I have to break the law and get the brothers out there and burn it down."
At these moments it seemed like Dawkins was striving to fill the void of crudity left by Carollo, or perhaps trying to eclipse the legend himself.
But, of course, that's impossible. There's only one Joe and he's ours again, at least until November—back in the headlines, back on the talk shows, back in the glare of the TV lights.
Our own little media monster, back from the bogs.
Candidates can't hide true colors
November 13, 1989
Miami poll workers ought to hand out antidepressants at the voting booths Tuesday morning.
What a lame collection of would-be commissioners on the ballot. You could toss a mullet net over any bus bench on Biscayne Boulevard and come up with four more distinguished candidates.
Thank God there were only six days between the general election and the runoff; to subject the public to any further campaigning would be an act of sadism.
First you've got Joe "I Hear Voices Again!" Carollo. Until last week, he had doggedly avoided the English-language media and confined his ramblings to Hispanic talk shows. Then he realized he would need the Anglo vote to win, and instantly he became garrulous and cooperative.
Suddenly Carollo was aiming that pained frozen smile at TV cameras and trying to sound like Mr. Let's-Unify-Miami instead of George Wallace (for whom he once campaigned).
Before long, though, the old Joe resurfaced. You just knew he couldn't go a whole week without unveiling some screwy conspiracy theory, and he didn't disappoint us.
On Friday, Carollo produced a laughably vague affidavit (with all the names conveniently blacked out) alleging a sinister vote-buying scheme in the 1987 election.
Considering the margin by which Carollo got stomped that year, the only person rich enough to buy that many votes was Victor Posner, and he was busy with other charitable matters.
This year Carollo's chances are bolstered by the performance of his opponent, incumbent Miller Dawkins, who once threatened to burn down an AIDS counseling center.
No one on the City Commission has a keener aptitude for uttering dumb things at the worst possible times. For this reason, Dawkins' advisers have urged him to run a low-key race, and to say as little as possible.
This isn't easy when a notorious drug dealer such as Isaac Hicks is announcing that he gave thousands in cash to previous Dawkins campaigns. The candidate has carefully responded that he never engaged in such a slimy transaction, which was (for once) exactly what any smart person would say.
Next we have Rosario Kennedy seeking a commission seat for which she earnestly promised not to run.
Having lost the Democratic congressional primary, the ex-commissioner faces some old uncomfortable questions. Voters are still ticked off about the $111,000 refurbishing of her city office, and they're still curious about her friendship with celebrity tax swindler Monty Trainer.
On the bright side, Kennedy has always been honest when giving her street address, which is more than you can say for her opponent, Miriam "Have Zip Code, Will Travel" Alonso.
Alonso is best known for lying about where she lived in order to run for a Metro Commission seat. The falsely sworn election document was apparently insufficient evidence for the state attorney to prosecute, but it was enough for a judge to kick her off the ballot.
This time around, Alonso promised that she wouldn't try that kind of stunt. Still, you've got to wonder about the force of her ambitions.
She changed party affiliations three times in less than two years—evidence of either crass political opportunism, or a multiple-personality disorder. Most normal people don't switch record clubs three times in two years, not even for a dozen free albums.
So this is the roster from which Miami voters must choose new leadership. It's a shame that not one of the candidates comes without a history of having done or said something profoundly stupid, or downright dishonest.
It's also a shame that only a small number of eligible voters will make the selection for the majority. If those who stay home Tuesday are waiting for a candidate who inspires them, they could die of old age first.
Unfortunately, democracy in these times is less a quest for new heroes than an obstacle course through stale mediocrity. As disheartening as it is, sometimes you've got to choke down your feelings and vote for the lesser of two feebles.