“Tom Fuentes’ so-called ‘fundraiser’”

—SUCH WAS THE TITLE of Frank Mickadeit’s column this morning in the OC Register.

Why “so-called”? Because the venerable (and feared and despised) Mr. Fuentes is very ill and is not likely to still hold his trusteeship when campaign time rolls around many months from now.

Naturally, this raises questions about last week's "fundraiser." Well, they’re obvious, so I'll leave it at that.

Here’s Mickadeit’s account of last week’s fundraiser, which, you’ll note, is far less colorful than the Reb’s:

Tom Fuentes' so-called ‘fundraiser': O.C. legend in cancer fight

As chairman of the Orange County Republican Party for two decades, Tom Fuentes presided over or witnessed many of Orange County's most significant political events. On Friday night, he was actually the focal point of one: the most impressive school-board fundraiser in the county's history.

Of course, calling the $150-a-plate dinner at the Balboa Bay Club a fundraiser for his re-election to the south-county college board (an election that, as emcee Keith Carlson wryly noted, is “a very, very close 53 weeks” away) was a pretext.

It was in fact a tribute dinner for a man who now holds the title of “chairman emeritus” and is one of the three or four people who had the most to do with putting Orange County on the national political map. The dinner speakers and Tom himself made a few references to an illness he hasn't wanted to publicly discuss until now.

I pulled up to the club about 5:45 and a familiar silver Caddy was right in front of me in the valet line. It was identical to the one Tom and I'd done our garage sale-ing in a few years ago, shortly after he stepped down as party chairman. I watched Tom slowly unfold himself from behind the wheel, greet the valet boy (he knows all their names) and step onto the sidewalk to shake hands with a well-wisher. (His wife, Jolene, and their youngest son, Joey, were already inside with the other 280 or so guests.)

Tom looked thinner and a little grayer. We walked together, slowly, past Duke's bar and the classic John Wayne portrait he'd help secure for it, and down that great hallway to the grand ballroom. He had that big, abundant Tom smile and said he'd be going to UCLA Medical Center today to continue his fight.

“Not too bad,” he said when I asked him how he felt. And then, as we entered the foyer just outside the ballroom, where a cocktail hour was in progress, his friends started to mob and I knew I'd lost him for the rest of the night.

Bruce Hershenson, whom Tom seems to admire as much as any politico, sat next to him at the head table. Around the room were the faces of the county Republican Party past (Lois Lundberg), present (Scott Baugh) and future (Shawn Fago, Anthony Kuo). The old lions: Ken Tait, Tom Malcolm, Buck Johns. The tireless volunteers: Emily Sanford, Mary Young. I sat next to Kathryn Carvelli, who met her husband, John, when she was working as a secretary for Fuentes at the party headquarters in the '80s. “There are people here I haven't seen in 20 years,” she told me.

While we ate, a slide show ran continuously on a screen over the stage. Tom with the legends: Reagan, John Paul II, Nixon, Thatcher. Tom with the GOP stalwarts: Kemp, Gingrich, Goldwater. Tom with the notorious: Ollie North, Fawn Hall (!), Alberto Gonzales. Tom with the all-but-forgotten: S. I. Hayakawa, John Schmitz, Dan Quayle. And perhaps most amusing, Tom with a big, furry '70's mustache. (“Doesn't he look like Juan Valdez?” Sharyn Buffa whispered.)

After dinner, baritone Robbie Britt sang, “Try to Remember,” and John Carvelli remembered that Jerry Orbach sang it originally off Broadway, and I argued (wrongly) it was Ed Ames. I'm a sucker for that song.

The tributes began, capped by Hershenson, who reminded everyone what has really set Tom apart in politics. He “treats issues and policies as more important than himself.”

Which might sound funny to anyone who has ever seen Tom's office with all the photos of him with the important political figures of his time, or see the pride he takes in his membership in the Knights of Malta or his honorary doctorate. He's not without ego–but he really is more about promoting his ideals. Even those who revile his politics or his means to his ends would have to admit that.

Tom spoke for just six minutes. He wanted to hear people laugh. “It's good to see all of you,” he said, adding, “under the circumstances it just good to be seen.”

Then: “There are so many Republicans in the room tonight.” And, alluding to the Carona indictment, which dominated the table talk all evening, he added, “The rest of them are meeting with their lawyers.”

I called Tom yesterday to see how public he wanted to be about his illness. He has liver cancer, he says, and is hoping for a transplant. In the meantime, he is undergoing chemo, which he says is really the only painful part of the experience.

“I'm up for the fight,” he said. “I'm up for the battle.”

Now, I honestly don't wish for Mr. Fuentes to experience calamity or pain, although anyone who has followed his career can have no doubt that he is plenty petty enough to wish for mine. But I must say that, of all the people I have encountered in my life, he is the most manifestly mean and rotten of those that I can think of. And I'm not referring to his unfortunate politics either. I can imagine a person having his political and social values (Neanderthal) and having integrity, being kind, etc. (Here is one place where I part ways with many of my progressive friends.)

What makes me call him rotten? It's what the man does to his enemies, the stunning means he consistently chooses to attain his ends, the ugliness of his alliances, his spectacular pettiness, and so on.

Well, he's dying, and that's sad. It really is. And so we're not supposed to say bad things about a dying fellow. But, as this "fundraiser" illustrates, he will continue to pursue his agenda in his customarily appalling ways to the bitter end. And, to the bitter end, he will affect piety and he will demonize his opponents and pronounce them wicked. He will be cruel, petty, and unprincipled. He will cheat. He will lie.

And so I say: it's too bad about Tom Fuentes. But, my God the man is rotten. —CW

* * * *

Do these names ring a bell?

• Remember when Raghu asked religious crooner Robbie Britt to sing for a district opening session? (See Once more with the “new” Raghu) Perfect. Britt hangs out with the likes of Benny Hinn, so he's pretty impressive.

• Some will remember that, 8 or 9 years ago, Anthony Kuo was Mathur’s go-to student lackey at IVC. When Mathur wanted his pal Rodney Poindexter to receive the Administrator of the Year award (nope, I'm not making this up), Kuo, as the leader of student government, made it so. When Mathur needed someone to defend him in the newspapers, Kuo obliged with remarkably error-laden letters. Nowadays, Kuo's still that way, only he's that way in the local Republican hierarchy.

He'll fit in nicely.