I AM ANIMAL! Argus Courier Robert Breen 1/3/2003 Or am I? Or is Animal one of the almost 200 citizens who own I AM ANIMAL! T-shirts? There were citizens from nearly every walk of life - firefighters, doctors, lawyers, entrepreneurs, waitresses, bank tellers, computer geeks, retirees, councilmen, and the more than 20 who showed up at a City Council meeting - all of whom, in wearing a T-shirt declaring they were Animal, became kindred spirits in support of the work of the mysterious individual who outlines potholes with yellow spray paint. I've been asked point blank if I was Animal on several occasions. Each time I responded, "Have you seen the movie 'Spartacus?' " If the questioner answered in the affirmative, I asked, "Do you remember when the victorious Roman general asked members of the defeated slave army which of them was Spartacus, and how, after Spartacus stood to admit his identity, one by one the others stood up to claim that they, too, were Spartacus?" If the listener said, "Yes," I told them that, in that sense, I was Animal. Animal is like Zorro, except he didn't work at night, "when the full moon is bright," but in broad daylight, dressed in a hard hat, safety vest and blue jeans. Some mistook Animal for a city employee who was outlining potholes to be filled in the near future. Some called the spraying a defacement of public property, ignoring not only the unsightly pothole, but also the fact that Animal was performing a public service by providing a warning so that others wouldn't torque their cars out of alignment, flip over their bikes and break their faces, or twist their ankles. A Press Democrat editorial said Animal was part of the problem. Election-conscious council members were angered and embarrassed by the unwanted publicity, and didn't want the pothole sprayer on their "blue ribbon" street-fix committee. One morning my phone rang; it was Animal. "Mister Breen, you are a troublemaker," Animal said, tongue in cheek, referring to a column I'd written. The next day I told a friend about the call. He said there ought to be a T-shirt. I said, "The shirt should read, 'I am Animal!' " Money was donated, the shirts were printed and distributed to friends, associates and the long suffering residents of Coady Court, and the rest is history. I've since talked with Animal on several occasions. Animal is funny and smart, with a political compass that points true North. And, as far as I'm concerned, if it weren't for Animal (and Pierre Miremont) we wouldn't have had an unprecedented number of streets fixed all at once, nor all those spray-painted potholes fixed, nor every council aspirant acknowledging the street problem. If not for Animal the election might well have turned out different. I'm proud to be associated with Animal. So - who is Animal? By one account, Animal is a Vietnam veteran. But knowing just how wily Animal is, I suspect that was deliberate disinformation. The truth is that Animal is a sort of everyman/woman who could be standing right next to you and you'd never suspect. Animal once sat at council meeting and overheard a certain ex-council member remark that she had never seen the mysterious and unknown figure. Duh. One thing is certain: now that the election is over and we have a council whose members have pledged themselves to fix our streets, it does not matter to Animal whether they are green or red-white-and-blue, as long as they keep their pledge. If, however, they or city administrators and their koi-pond minions begin to waffle, wiggle or backslide, Animal will commence the mission anew with the same determination as before, and the I AM ANIMAL! brigade will don their T-shirts again in support. A fiery horse-power engine, a cloud of swirling yellow mist, a hearty, "Hello, pothole!" The Lone Spray-Paint Stranger rides again! (Robert Breen is a retired firefighter who lives in Petaluma.)