By Allen David
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 5
Because the Inland Empire just doesn’t have enough political corruption on its plate. The prosecution rests—on former Soboba Indian Tribal Chairman Robert “Bobby” Salgado’s big butt as the powerful politico finally gets a taste of the business end of some harsh justice. He admits to accepting nearly $1 million ($875,000 to be precise) in bribes from vendors who had business with the tribe and its Soboba casino. And that admission might cost him—seven to nine years in prison. But he’s apparently the Lee Harvey Oswald (read: patsy) of the case as no other tribal members were charged. Outside the courthouse, Salgado’s got nothing to say regarding his admission that he pumped five businesses for money and failed to report the extra scratch to the IRS (always a bad move). And Salgado’s lawyer ain’t talking either. Funny, Salgado had at least a few things to say back in July 2007 when he unexpectedly (and suspiciously) resigned his chairman post. Though the explanation he gave back then as to why he quit the job was pretty damn, well, explanation-less. “I had planned to finish the term, but right now, I just don’t feel it’s the right thing to do,” he said three years ago. “Maybe it’s the weather. It’s too hot.” Yeah, Bobby’s really got a lock on what the “right thing to do” is.
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 6
You’ve heard The Princess and the Pea? How ’bout The Mattress and the Bed Bug? That’s the bedtime story Temescal Canyon resident Cub Hayden is wishing he hadn’t heard after discovering that someone has been using a nearby dirt field to stash about 1,000 used mattresses. And while everyone knows that mattresses are inanimate objects, Hayden seems to be under the impression that there’s some sort of, ah, how can I put this delicately . . . some sort of intermingling of body parts. “They’re multiplying like rabbits,” Hayden declares. Or, maybe he meant to say, “wabbits”? But it gets worse. The mattresses a mere 200 feet away from his Hayworth Court home might be infested with something more than dander and whatever it is that shows up blindingly white under a black light. Bedbugs. Hayden saw one. And he did the math. “If there’s one, there’s a thousand,” he says. “I’ll swear on a stack of Bibles that it was a bedbug.” And Hayden does what any good red-blooded American worth his salt would do: He called code enforcement. And that, to coin a phrase, rubbed MBC Mattress dude Brian Gargalis the wrong way. “If someone didn’t want the beds stored there, all they had to do was come to us,” he says. Sure. Whatever. Where’s that stack of Bibles now?
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 7
Naughty, naughty, Robin Lowe. Didn’t someone once tell you that you can’t double-dip? Or in this case, that you can’t sit on the dais as a member of the Hemet City Council—which is negotiating with a labor union—and forget to tell folks that you’re married to a union member. Yup, we’re talking about a silly little thing called conflict-of-interest. Naturally, City Manager Brian Nakamura seems to take it all in stride and immediately switches into vague and noncommittal mode regarding complaints that Lowe was in communication with the union at a time when she’s supposed to be watching out for the city’s ass(ets)! “It was always questions brought to me and accusations brought to me,” Nakamura says. “It’s hard to make a decision based on accusations.” Really? Really! Really!? Hey, Brian, juries do it all the time. And judges. And prosecutors. Our entire legal system is based on making decisions based on accusations. Guess that’s a bit much for you. But the true victim here is Robin’s husband, Mel. Talk about sleeping with the enemy. Hemet’s vice mayor, Jerry Franchville, boils everything down in the best possible way: “I knew something suspicious was going on and then things were explained to us. Enough is enough.” Take that, Robin. You’ve brought IE politics to an all-time Lowe. Ouch.
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 8
Meg Whitman in Fontana. Kind of like the Devil in Hell. Minus the Nannygate, of course. Sorry, Nicky.
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 9
I’m still thinking about the wacky fight over two huge chunks of cement in San Bernardino. Talk about hitting a wall. It was a 3-ton chunk of the Berlin Wall that the Friends of the Reagan Park were fighting over with San Bernardino Republican activist Henry Nickel. To be expected, every single tired, tried-and-true type of commie word play is brought into the mix. Press-Enterprise writer Darrell R. Santschi starts things off by talking about “San Bernardino’s cold war.” Then Nickel throws in his own, er, nickel?—no, two cents, and describes the resolved dispute by concluding that “détente has been achieved.” San Bernardino, tear down these clichés.
SUNDAY, OCTOBER 10
New York City, baby!
MONDAY, OCTOBER 11
Pacific Time? Eastern Time? Pacific Time? Standard Time? I’m confused!