Self-protection the reason Trump fired FBI director
Strip away all the spin on why President Trump fired FBI Director James Comey, and it comes down to this: Trump did it because he feared him.
And believe me, if survival depends on the actions of someone and you cannot control that person, then you make emotional moves. Sometimes for the worse.
Trump made an emotional move, and now he’s trying to explain it. But it was purely and simply self-protection. Trump cannot afford to have an honest, talented guy looking into what is probably an embarrassing past relationship with Russian billionaires.
It’s entirely possible there was no outright collusion between Trump and the Russians who med-
dled in the presidential campaign. But even if there wasn’t, Trump can’t afford to have the spotlight shone on Russian business deals he may have made that helped him build a fortune.
It would lead to allegations that he was being soft toward Russia because his financial interests dictated it.
By the way, you have to laugh at Trump’s warning that Comey should hope there are no “tapes” of their dinner chat — the one where either the then-FBI director told Trump he wasn’t under investigation (Trump’s version) or the president demanded that Comey profess his personal loyalty to Trump (the version given by Comey associates to the New York Times).
Who is Trump kidding? If anyone was wearing a wire, it would be the FBI guy.
Say hello to Lt. Gov. Gavin Newsom’s worst nightmare.
His name is Sam Altman. He is a 32-year-old tech investor and app innovator who believes that if used right, technology can help bring an end to income inequality and a host of other social and economic problems.
And he’s looking at running for governor in 2018, a race that Newsom is already in.
I met up with Altman the other day. He was dressed in sneakers and jeans and was looking for advice.
I told him California has a history of millionaires running for public office on their own dime. Most wind up paying consultants a whole lot of money and losing.
Altman responded that he isn’t planning on running a traditional campaign and that if he gets in, he’d reach voters through digital intelligence — which, as far as I can tell, involves using analytics to market your message more precisely to your customers.
He’d go after young folks and immigrants who will be voting for the first time.
“What’s your advice?” he asked.
“Don’t run,” I said. “You’re young, gay, and can self-finance your campaign while appearing to be a fresh-faced alternative to the status quo. You are just the candidate that my friend
Gavin has been dreading might appear on the horizon.
“If you jump in, Gavin is likely to jump as well,” I said. “Only Gavin will be jumping off my bridge, and I don’t want that on my conscience.”
I was out at the University of San Francisco the other day for the ceremony renaming the Phelan student dorm to honor the late Burl Toler.
Toler was one of two blacks on the undefeated 1951 University of San Francisco football team. It might have been the best team in the country, but the players refused a chance to play in the Orange Bowl because the people who ran the game wouldn’t let the Dons take the field with an African American.
Toler, a linebacker, was drafted by the Cleveland Browns but tore up his knee in the college all-star game. He never played a game in the pros — instead, he went into teaching and eventually became the first black referee in the NFL.
Toler’s son, Burl Toler II, pointed out how much times changed during his dad’s life.
“When he played for the Dons, he was colored,” Toler said. “When he became an NFL referee, he was Negro. When he became the principal
of Benjamin Franklin Middle School, he was black. And when he died, he was African American.”
Movie time: “Sleight.” This low-, low-, lowbudget movie delivers in a big way.
It’s about a young amateur magician who becomes a petty drug dealer to support himself and his younger sister. Solid performances by all. No car chases. No heavy violence. And despite the lack of a publicity push, the theaters where it’s being shown are packed. It is definitely worth seeing.
Sunday being Mother’s Day, I’m reminded of my own mother, Minnie.
When I was Assembly speaker, I brought her to the Capitol to meet the governor and legislators. Being Willie Brown, I didn’t just show her around — I got permission to allow her to say hello to everyone from the speaker’s chair.
Now, my mother was a deeply religious woman in the Southern sense. I leaned over and explained to her that this was a big deal to me — and that there were Muslims, Buddhists, Jews and all manner of Christians in the Assembly and the gallery. So I urged her not to do any of the religious stuff.
She smiled and said, “OK. No problem.”
I introduce her. She walks up to the microphone while everyone is clapping.
Then everyone sits down.
She smiles, looks up to the balcony and says, “Can we bow our heads, please?”
Then turns and winks at me.
And may you be blessed as well.
Happy Mother’s Day.