To Honor Hizzoner

[December 17th, 2008]

Mayor Tom Potter leaves office at the end of December better known for his visioning than his accomplishments after one term.

In four years, Potter did manage a few concrete things. The mayor, who didn’t seek a second term, created a new bureau for human rights—fulfilling one campaign promise to make Portland a more inclusive city for disenfranchised residents from Somalis to the disabled.

And he championed a city-funded center for day laborers, despite protests from anti-illegal immigrant voices. That took at least one cojon, if not two.

But Potter, 68, has been Portland’s fifth-wheel-in-chief for some time. And if you doubt that, just listen to the man himself. More than a year ago—in October 2007—the mayor said he was no longer “relevant,” then angrily walked out of a City Council meeting on the proposed renaming of North Interstate Avenue for César Chávez.

Commissioners Randy Leonard and Dan Saltzman both praised Potter for opening the doors of City Hall. “A lot of people have made a lot of fun of his various outreach efforts,” Leonard says. “What was the name of that one? I’m blanking…visionPDX. But he did reach out and it did bring people in.”

Potter’s official going-away party is Thursday, Dec. 18, at City Hall, two weeks before Commissioner Sam Adams replaces him. To honor Hizzoner with gifts to remember his tenure, WW compiled a list of recommended going-away presents (all under $100, in keeping with state law.)

A “Save the Children” Necktie, $28

Running in 2004 as a low-budget man-of-the-people against city Commissioner Jim Francesconi, Potter pledged to put kids first if elected mayor. Literally.

If nothing else, Potter is a man of his word. Over the years, children and teenagers have started meetings at City Hall with discussions ranging from the lack of adequate school crosswalks to the need for more teachers. City commissioners have listened with rapt attention. (Sarcasm alert! While also checking their BlackBerrys, counting backward from 1,000 and mouthing the words “olive juice” to their staffers).

But Potter didn’t stop there. He took City Hall on a one-week road show in January 2008 to Jefferson High School, where wife Karin Hansen once taught. Basking in the spotlight, Potter asked for volunteers to commit to Jeff, and they did—240 times this year.

A universal remote control, on EBay for less than $100

In his first months, Potter followed through on another campaign promise by taking control of all city bureaus in an effort to overhaul the budgeting and administration of Portland’s $2 billion, 6,000-employee bureaucracy.

But after he reassigned bureaus to the four commissioners in early 2005, the mayor maintained about as much control of City Hall as a den mother at a Hells Angels convention.

In hopes of regaining some permanent power for the mayor, a 26-member committee studied Portland’s governing charter for 14 months. The result? Potter asked voters to remake Portland’s political apparatus by strengthening the mayor, giving him new, exclusive powers to manage city bureaus with the help of an unelected manager.

Voters rejected the idea in May 2007 by a margin of more than 3-to-1.

Potter could never control the Council. Perhaps in retirement he can control his electronics.

Nosebleed tickets to a Trail Blazers game, $10 each

In 2007, Potter beat a state ethics inquiry after accepting courtside tickets from the Portland Trail Blazers. While the home opener tickets could have been worth up to $1,000, Potter listed their value at $34 on his disclosure report.

But the biggest insult to taxpayers wasn’t Potter’s dubious disclosure form.

“I understand them wanting to tighten up ethics violations,” he told reporters after he was cleared. “But I hope they don’t in the process trample on the ceremonial aspects of the job, the ones where you are there representing the city, you are not there for the entertainment.”

Excuse us? Front-row seats and you’re not there for entertainment? Someone give the man some tickets for nosebleed seats with the rest of Rip City’s riff-raff.