Christina Gagnier grabs the spotlight

Last night in Mission Viejo, the attorney and former Chino Valley School Board member flashed the oomph we've been waiting for.

Christina Gagnier wins the night—and goes lefty-righty with her water bottle

There was a gathering at the Norman P. Murray Community Center in Mission Viejo last night—approximately 80 (or so) concerned citizens (most members of the Canyon Democrats, the sponsoring group), a smattering of campaign workers, and the six people crazy self-sacrificing enough to try and run against Republican incumbent Young Kim in next year’s CA-40 election.

And, off the bat, there was one clear winner—Dr. Paula Swift, the CEO of her own consulting firm and a woman wise/savvy/smart/keen enough to offer this to the masses …

As a sucker for candy (literally any candy), I feel compelled to not only throw my full backing behind Swift, but volunteer the pages of this website in return for her entire stash of sweets.

Wait.

I digress.

The event was held outdoors, and for much of it the candidates mingled with the people—chatting, listening, doing that glazed-over nod thing as a constituent introduces himself, follows with, “So I have a question …”, then rambles on for an interminable 13-straight minutes about his daughter’s inability to find a functioning electric bike for a reasonable price. This is the hellscape political aspirants occupy, and I oftentimes wonder whether first timers like Swift and Esther Kim Varet realize they are about to swap family/TV/pool time for a face-to-face with Brenda, the frustrated 78-year-old Mission Viejo woman who desperately wants to be told whether that hairy mole on the back of her left knee is cancerous or merely unattractive. “I know you’re not a doctor, but if you could have a look-see …”

Again, I digress. Food was served. As were drinks. The six guests of honor (Swift, Kim Varet, Christina Gagnier, Joe Kerr, Nina Linh and Perry Meade) introduced themselves to a wide range of folks, and later stood behind some tables as Judy Fike, the Canyon Democrats’ candidate support guru, made introductions before surrendering the mic one by one.

And … it was good. Really good. Not great, per se. Like, I don’t think any attendee walked away thinking, “Young Kim is toast.” But I do believe people might have walked away thinking, “Young Kim could be toast—if we work wisely and select the best candidate with the top messaging.”

So who were the winners and losers and in-betweeners?

Here’s my take:

The Biggest Winner: Gagnier.

Back in 2004, when the Democrats were trying to figure out who would run against George W. Bush, there was this surprisingly competitive primary battle between a pair of senators, John Kerry of Massachusetts and John Edwards of North Carolina. And, most of the time, Kerry was The Guy. He was polished, experienced, poised. He felt ready for the job.¹

But every so often, Edwards caught fire. You’d watch him and think, “This dude has something snappy. Something special. Something his rival lacks.” It would come and then—frustratingly—it would go.

That, to me in this race, is Gagnier.

When her A Game is rolling, she’s a forceful, intense speaker who combines focus and precision with a glowing relatability. She shoots off definite AOC vibes. Last night, a lot of people came away impressed and (I’m guessing) willing to give her a real look.

I’m one of them.

The Biggest Loser: Nina Linh

I hate using the term loser, because Nina Linh is anything but. She is a kind, virtuous public figure who has done (and will continue to do) much good for California. But, man, it’s just not there. At all. For the second event in a row, Linh was the lone candidate to give her talk while staring down at an iPad—an enormous no-no, and a pointed warning that Linh is straight-up not ready for this. She’s also a v-e-r-y quiet and meek conversationalist. And while that’s no crime, it makes impactful campaigning insanely difficult.

Nina Linh and her tablet.

Handled Herself Well At a Moment When She Needed To: Paula Swift

I introduced myself to Swift last night, and apologized for sorta overlooking her these past several months. She was friendly, but asked why she hadn’t landed on my radar.

I told her the truth: Kim Varet’s explosive rise and splashy cash spends, Meade’s youth … they’re narratives that have dominated the landscape. I took her number (she literally has her private cell on her business card. “I want people to know they can reach me,” she explained), and we’re gonna schedule coffee.

Last night, after Swift wrapped her (excellent, well-received) remarks, I turned to a local city council member behind me and mouthed, “That was really good.”

She agreed.

Here’s a thought, and I mean zero offense to Paula Swift: Yes, politics are about issues. But, really, they’re about story. Your story. Telling it. Conveying it. Making people feel it. Making people empathize.

Swift oftentimes alludes to the tragic death of her child via a domestic violence situation, but she (understandably) rarely goes into detail (Last night, to respectful silence, she said: “In one unimaginable moment, everything changed. At the age of 35, I became a widowed single mother as a result of domestic violence that took the life of my 4-year old-son and very nearly took my life as well. That trauma could have buried me, it could have broken me. But … I decided to turn that pain into purpose.”). And I am not saying she should. This is her trauma, not ours. But if she’s willing to discuss what happened, explain how it impacted her, break down how it led her toward serving the public—well, that would be something.

But only if she wants to, obviously. Real life trumps politics.

No Harm, No Foul: Esther Kim Varet and Perry Meade

Coming off of a less-than-stellar appearance last week at the Aliso Niguel Democratic Club, there was certainly some curiosity over how Kim Varet would do. And she was steady. I don’t remember anything remarkable coming from her lips, but I also don’t remember anything awful. And say what you want about money corrupting politics, Kim Varet led the evening in both signage and campaign workers. She’s got coin to burn.

Plus, she had this strategically positioned in the parking lot …

One more thing: Kim Varet can come off sorta shitty in group settings. It’s just a fact. She has an affect; the wealthy LA art dealer thing that doesn’t quit fit. It’s something to work on. Face to face, however, she’s shockingly effective. She has a fun vibe. Funny, too. Looks people in the eye. Asks actual (gasp!) questions. Swishes around her white wine.²

As for Meade, the new kid on the block (also outstanding one on one) was equally milquetoast in the public remarks portion. He went deep into his resume, told the abridged story of his life, quasi-rambled in the way new political candidates quasi-ramble. He wasn’t bad. He wasn’t great. He and Kim Varet were perfectly fine. Which beats sucking.

Living That Joe Kerr Life: Joe Kerr

I said this before, and I’ll say it again: Joe Kerr is Brad Pitt in “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood”—and if this election were to be decided by rope climbing or arm wrestling or bear tackling, Joe is the guy. Seriously, he’s got the It that so many seek, but few acquire.

That said, I don’t see a pathway forward—and few I have spoken with do, either. The dough (I’ve been told) ain’t there. The excitement ain’t there, either. His speeches (while well-delivered and engaging) usually cite Bill Clinton and 1990s fire department folklore. It’s dusty and cobwebby. Well-intentioned, fascinating, cool—but of a bygone era. The Democratic Party is not going to win uphill races like CA-40 with retread candidates. And Joe would be, by very definition of having run/lost before, a retread candidate.

That’s no insult. Hell, I’m a retread sportswriter.

But it’s the truth.

1. Obviously, it needs to be acknowledged that he was later exposed as a disgusting piece of shit. But ignore that for this example, please.

2. Late last night I saw this on Kim Varet’s IG feed. And I honestly don’t even know what to say. On the one hand, it’s entirely possible she grasps something I don’t—and there’s genius in her approach. Seriously, I’m open to that. On the other hand—you just moved here recently, and your biggest perceived challenger (Meade) has lived here the entirety of his 26 years. Is this really the wisest approach? [Answer: Maybe]