By Tony Kornheiser
Sunday, May 24, 1998; Page F1

Say it ain't so, Marion.

Say you're not leaving me.

I've lived in Washington since 1979. You're the only mayor I've ever had.

(Well, there was Sharon Pratt Kelly. But she only got elected because you were, um, away. She was so unpopular that when she ran for reelection she only got 13 percent of the primary vote. Forget the other party – 87 percent of her own party didn't want her! People wrote in Pol Pot ahead of her.)

I simply can't imagine Washington without you, Marion. It's like imagining Paris without L'Arc de Triomphe. Or olestra without the nasty leakage. Or daytime TV without one fat chick decking another fat chick on "Jerry Springer."

You've been great for me, Marion. You've been bold, brash and bigger than life. What would I have written about John Ray all these years – that he recommends using shoe trees?

You stood for everything that's great about this city: sex, drugs and room service. If you leave, what will I do for humorous political material? (Oh, silly me. Bill "American Gigolo" Clinton is still the president, right?)

I almost cried when I saw you on TV, announcing you weren't going to run again. I was awestruck when you said you were a humble man, a man of God, a courageous man, a compassionate, sensitive, sacrificing man, and an excellent mayor. But I guess if you hadn't said that, who would?

Let's review the score card of your many years of public service:

First term: You were not busted for smoking crack.

Second term: You were not busted for smoking crack.

Third term: Oops.

Fourth term: So far, so good.

That's real progress.

And yet what have they done to you, Marion? The feds have stripped you of every meaningful responsibility. You can't even make a long distance call without getting permission from Congress. And then you have to dial 10321 first. You aren't a real mayor anymore. You're strictly ceremonial now, like Mayor McCheese. You ought to wear a button that says: "Welcome to Washington, D.C. Try our Filet o' Fish."

You have been a model for personal style, Marion. And a visionary. It is only now being questioned whether President Clinton had a sexual liaison in the Oval Office. It was alleged you had one in the visitors lounge in prison years ago!

Your style was unapologetic.

When you were spotted at a strip bar on 14th Street, you said, "I'm a night owl." If Gary Hart had said that, he might be president today. (Or a forest ranger.)

When you were found frequenting the home of a fetching young model, you said, "I'm visiting her son." Her 3-year-old son! Did you bring Lego?

When you were at the Super Bowl in L.A. in 1987 and it snowed 20 inches here, paralyzing the city, you didn't rush home, you partied in sunny California – and claimed you were on top of the situation here because you had "called home at halftime, and after the game."

When you won reelection in 1994 with, like, 0.00002 percent of the white vote, you didn't reach out to heal the divisions – you told white people to "get over it." I tried. It was piled too high.

When you spent several hours at an "unscheduled stop," and it grew late, and your security detail, fearing for your safety, went to fetch you, and according to an internal police memo, you answered the door "partially clothed," you said you were "visiting political supporters." What were you doing, courting the nudist vote?

No wonder I voted for you every time. You put this city on the political map.

Whenever I traveled to other cities, from Miami to Seattle, and told anyone I lived in Washington, D.C., they'd hoot, "Your mayor is a crack-head!"

And I'd answer, proudly, "Yeah? But he photographs well from the side."

People are going to knock you, Mr. Mayor, but I won't. This city has undergone a cultural renaissance while you have been in office. Look at what you accomplished in your 16 years:

1. Property values haven't declined nearly as far as they have in Sarajevo.

2. Much of the time, we could drink the tap water.

3. Often the potholes in our streets were not so deep that our cars completely disappeared from view.

4. We became an arts center. "D.C. Cab," starring Mr. T, was filmed here.

5. No American city or foreign country dropped an A-bomb on us.

That's your legacy: "Marion Barry. He kept us out of war."

I can't fathom why the consortium of local universities – which includes Georgetown, George Washington, Maryland and American – didn't offer you a position teaching political science. Your course would have been packed to the rafters.

I can see it in the catalogue now: "Poli. Sci. 'How to Get Away With Just About Everything.' Instructor: Marion S. Barry Jr., former Mayor for Life."