Public Eye

had no doubts about him being the perfect match for Whittier. He's a really enthusiastic journalist, an old-fashioned roll-up-your-sleeves editor and loves the meat of our work. And I was right -- as soon as I walked in the office on the edge of Uptown Whittier -- that fabulous commercial neighborhood that is only matched by Old Pas and South Pas's Mission Street in Southern California for genuine pedestrian ambience -- I knew Tim was the man. Thirty years from now he'll have deli sandwiches and birdwalks named for him, too, and we'll have a retirement lunch at the California Country Club.

We walked up to Zumaya's at noon and were intercepted outside by Newcomer, casual in a Hawaiian shirt, slim, athletic looking -- turns out to be all the hiking and biking he gets in. The mayor later told us he was 59, and had just retired from teaching poli sci at Rio Hondo College. I would have pegged him for a decade younger. It's his eighth year on the council , one with a rotating mayorship that goes April to April. Married 32 years. Doctorate from 'SC in political science. Other degrees from CSUN, which is Tim's alma mater. Grew up in the San Fernando Valley. Married 32 years -- wife's a ballet teacher. No kids. Democrat. Claim to political fame was when he ran in the Demo Assembly primary and decided to hoof the district as if it were a City Council race -- he knocked on 26,000 doors , from the Long Beach (710) Freeway east to the hills above Whittier. He lost to Charles Calderon anyway.

"Whittier's like a nice old home," Newcomer told us. "You want to fix it up but you want to do so without losing the atmosphere." That was a metaphor -- but the mayor is indeed a preservationist, which endeared him to my Pasadena roots.

The hot item politically in town is a new specific plan -- overseen by New Urbanist architect Stephanos Polyzoides of San Marino -- to add up to 1,000 residential units to Uptown. That will certainly give a good walking street some critical mass -- and keep some retailers and resterateurs in business. I'm for it. But ya think it will bring up some density issues at council meetings, both from colleagues and at public comment?

Someday soon, someone will make the site that I first saw in central downtown Pasadena about a decade ago that proved the place had moved on from being a ghost town after dark: A resident out walking his dog 'round midnight on Colorado Boulevard.

Then, this being the day after the Minnesota bridge collapse, we talked about infrastructure for a time. Pothole-wise, Newcomer said many cities make the mistake of fixing up the bad streets and ignoring the good ones. Which makes the good ones bad soon enough. Whittier's way: a five-year cycle in which 20 percent of the streets get fixed up and slurry-sealed every year. Ya got that, South Pas?

Restaurant verdict: Superb. Given the chance, I'd go to Zumaya's every day. It's the kind of place that is disappearing from too many of our downtowns, including Pasadena's. Hot chips. Good, fresh, hot salsa. Refritos without lard, served in a separate bowl. Owner making sure everything's OK -- 'course, we were with the mayor. The carnitas -- the cube-chopped kind, not the shredded -- was good. Tortillas seemed housemade. The mayor had enchiladas verde; Tim a quesadilla con camorones he pronounced as excellent. Can't speak to how cold the Bohemias might have been -- this was an iced-tea kinda deal.

We talked about Whittier's famous progress on open space, and I asked the mayor where a trailhead was. On the way back to the Tribune I peeled off Beverly to Sycamore Canyon, amazingly close to the city, the easternmost point of a continual (not counting freeways, I suppose) greenspace that goes all the way to the Cleveland National Forest. Right behind Rose Hills and near a lot of old oil wells, but amazingly pristine nonetheless. Walked a couple hundred yards up the canyon. A place of great beauty.