Gee, Gloria. It’s not like it hasn’t been fun, and I know deep down you’re probably a good person.
But you’ve gotta go.
Leave City Hall. Say “so long” to your volunteer job in the mayor’s office. Not that I have anything against spouses working together.
Hey, I met my wife at the office.
But you’re a disaster, Gloria Squitiro. And if your husband can’t function without you by his side at 12th and Oak (as you have said on occasion), then he can take a hike too, as far as many in the community are concerned.
Sure, it’d be too bad to see Mark Funkhouser leave the mayor’s office. I happen to think he has some good ideas, if not always the political skills to get his goals accomplished.
Still, Gloria, I’m betting city government could function without your “little Funky” at the helm, even if he “sure does look sexy when taking the podium at those town meetings.”
I quote, of course, from the infamous Christmas letter. Your holiday greeting made national news for its vivid description of Mark’s first prostate exam.
I guess you had to be there — and you were, weren’t you? Sheesh.
All I can say is that breakfast has never been the same for me since reading your firsthand description of the doctor’s “sausage-sized fingers” and how “Funk’s eyes bulge(d) out of his head.”
Yes, maybe you had cause to complain about all the focus on your family Christmas letter. After all, it was intended only for a hundred of your closest friends and acquaintances, including members of the news media, fer crying out loud.
But it sure provided helpful context for me as I read the 12-page lawsuit that Ruth Bates filed against you, Mark and the city this week.
Yes, the crude Christmas letter makes it possible to envision the allegations made by Bates, your former black friend who claims she was booted from her job in the mayor’s office after complaining of discrimination.
The raunchy, R-rated remarks that allegedly came out of your mouth in the mayoral suite.
The alleged references to race and ethnicity that gave offense.
Did you really refer to a female attorney on the TIF Commission as “that Hispanic chick”?
Is it true that you worried out loud about going to a meeting on the West Side during the Frances Semler controversy by saying, “I hope they don’t throw hot tamales at us”?
I know. You’re not commenting beyond your previous explanation about how you were saying “ma’am-ee” — not the racially tinged “mammy” — when you referred to Bates and another black woman in the office.
Of course, nothing’s been proved. Maybe the allegations are just lies.
But the suit is another needless distraction in a litany stretching back to the campaign. Remember that newsletter when you, Gloria, wrote supporters to tell them about the visit you and Mark paid to “the black part of town.”
Folks in high-profile positions need to watch what they say. What comes out of one’s mouth can sometimes hurt the reputation of an entire city.
Or lead to a string of PR disasters that have created the perception that your husband, once a respected city auditor, is a blundering dope who is in way over his head.
You and I know, however, that Mark is a very bright guy, though stubborn to the point that he doesn’t think perceptions matter.
Well, he’s wrong about that. They do matter.
Luckily, you have a chance, Gloria, to do your husband and this city a huge favor. As in, go back to whatever it was you were doing before he ran for mayor.
You can still give him your counsel. Call each other every hour, if you need to.
But you need to clean out your desk for good before you embarrass this city any further.
Today wouldn’t be too soon.
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