Category: council review

#84: Cape Girardeau, MO 2/6/17

There’s an old saying in the Midwest: the only thing more unpredictable than the waters of the mighty Mississippi River are the Cape Girardeau city council meetings.

More than a dozen onlookers chatted breezily, flipping through agenda packets. A dog yipped from somewhere in the back row as the meeting was gaveled to order. The dais was light two council members–Bob Fox and Wayne Bowen left empty chairs and broken hearts in their absence.

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If anyone recognizes this man, please tell me what his shirt loves.

But the time for mourning faded quickly, as city manager Scott Meyer whipped the crowd into a frenzy with a tale of heroism and intrigue.

“We had one nice story about something our employees do all the time: going the second mile,” he bragged to the audience. “We recently had a firefighter who, in taking care of a trucker who had to be taken by ambulance [and] was really concerned about his truck….He took it upon himself to go the second mile and to take care of that truck and get it safe and secured.”

Council members leaned forward eagerly as Meyer proudly added, “and that’s just something your friends and neighbors do every day.” Yes, every day the streets are chock full of abandoned–but well taken care of–trucks.

Then without warning, the city manager veered off script.

“One more announcement. Julia’s gonna make that for me,” he smirked.

Council members swiveled their heads quizzically toward the podium. I don’t like the looks of this. How bad is the news that he had to outsource it?!

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This man is contemplating how quickly he can bolt for the exit.

“Thank you, Scott,” smiled Julia. “It’s my distinct pleasure and honor to announce that our mayor, Harry Rediger, was accepted as the Outstanding Public Official for this past year!”

Cheers and whistles exploded in the chamber. The dog howled. Mayor Rediger sheepishly flipped through his packet.

“I didn’t see that on the agenda,” he quipped.

“No! We were trying to keep it a surprise,” exclaimed Julia.

The mayor flashed a big grin.”Well, you did!”

Who says there are no secrets in small towns! In fact, I bet those two missing council members were about to spill the beans–until Julia took care of them. (Permanently.)

Julia advised His Honor to mark the ceremony on his calendar. “At our conference in Branson on March 9, we’re hoping you’ll be able to make it.”

The city manager lurched in his chair. “March 9?! That’s the night of a strategic plan meeting.” He feigned begrudging acceptance and clapped a hand on the mayor’s shoulder. “But you can miss ONE.”

Mayor Rediger was still a wee bit embarrassed from all the attention. “I told ’em I was gonna go to every one of them!” he said apologetically to the city manager. Then he turned to Julia.

“I can make that.”

After all that excitement, the meeting moved swiftly and uneventfully to a close. Even the chicken ordinance, which normally would get my feathers ruffled, failed to take flight.

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Gentlemen, aren’t our animals regulated ENOUGH?!

Final thoughts: For being able to pull off a surprise, I give Julia and the city manager 10 out of 10 strippers-jumping-out-of-cakes.

#83: Omaha, NE 1/31/17

Some people celebrate their 80th birthday in the comfort of their home. Others do it during a 3 p.m. “dinner” at Bob Evans.

But only the wokest of octogenarians get a VIP ceremony in their city council chamber.

“I had the opportunity to attend a very special birthday party–with a YOUNG lady celebrating her 80th birthday–and I decided we ought to do a proclamation,” announced Council President Ben Gray with a wide grin.

“Rachel learned to drive and work three jobs to support her family,” he rattled off her biography. “Nurturing over 100 children through foster care is something special. Sometimes heroes are not people you see on television or read about.” (Mr. President, the Chronicles begs to differ!)

“I DID ask for Rachel to bring her birth certificate because I didn’t believe the 80-year-old story,” he joked. Or, at least, I thought it was a joke until he handed the shiny proclamation to a distinguished lady who didn’t look a day over 50!

“We’ll see you in another 80 years!” Gray cracked as the council roared with applause.

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Who knew that the secret to staying young was being a good person?

Alas, no sooner had the metaphorical candles been blown out than one councilmember went for the jugular.

“You know the history of that site. It certainly has had issues,” Councilmember Garry Gernandt frowned deeply as he stared down a stocky man who owned a scrap and salvage yard.

“We pick up the neighborhood and clean up and try to be a good neighbor,” the man retorted. “We haven’t had any major problems that I know of.”

NO problems?! Gernandt couldn’t believe his eardrums. “One of those complaints when you first took over was the proposed truck traffic into your facility–allow me to finish!” he thrust up a hand to silence the man’s protest. “My question: what are your hours of operation?”

The answer: “Approximately 8-5 daily. Eight to noon on Saturday. We’ll do a better job of recycling and maybe keep things a little cleaner. Make the health department happy.”

Amen, no one likes a dirty scrapyard. Get some organizing bins for those rusted-out car chassis!

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“I’ll be THIIIIIIIIIIIS happy.”

No sooner had Mr. Scrapyard stood down than a feisty woman in a ball cap leaned onto the podium. The subject: a special tax for cutting and clearing weeds. Her mood: enraged.

“Since I see you putting taxes on cutting the weeds and stuff, I wanted to know: are y’all going to be taking care of your OWN property?” she broadsided the unsuspecting council.

“The city has several lots in North Omaha which they do not maintain or keep up. Are y’all gonna tax yourselves?! I’ve been keeping the lot cut next to my property–which belongs to the city!

“Do I get reimbursed for cutting the yard?” she demanded in a blazing rhetorical ambush.

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“I’ll wait while you use the ATM.”

Wow, talk about speaking truth to power! I believe the engineers will have to examine City Hall’s foundation after the way it was SHAKEN just now.

“I don’t think we work that way,” responded Council President Gray through a forced smile.

Councilmember Rich Pahls offered meek words of encouragement. “If we’re gonna put the pressure on property owners, we ought to take a look at ourselves. Something tells me something’s going to get done. If not,” he shrugged, “come back.”

Final thoughts: Recycling at the scrapyard? Cutting down weeds? I give 10 out of 10 stars to cleanliness!

#82: Waconia, MN 1/23/17

Big happenings in small Waconia! I’m excited about everything they’re doing!

“This is gonna be my tenth year and I’m excited about everything we’re doing!” exclaimed the president of the Chamber of Commerce as she fired off dozens of downright irresistible goings-on around the Wac:

  • “I get calls for this every year. People wonder, when is that Putt Putt Challenge?!”
  • “If you’re following Facebook, they had a thing called knockerball. It went viral! It was in Japan, it was all around the world–the rodeo in Waconia with this knockerball thing!”
  • “Artstock was super duper fun! It was a great weekend and I can hear myself using all these superlatives because it was a really good year!”

She paused to catch her breath and offer a she-a culpa. “I just read a really great tip that PowerPoints should have no words, so I apologize for all these words! It should just be all pictures.”

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Words?! Ugh, anything but words!

No apologies necessary! You’re doing great. Although, truth be told, some events she’s hyping are giving me trippy mental images.

  • “Nickle Dickle Day just continues to grow!”
  • “Scarecrow Tour–we had about 53 scarecrows around town.”

After chugging through a whole year’s worth of merriment in 15 minutes, she flashed an unapologetic grin. “That was supposed to be, like, five minutes!”

Then she hit the play button on a promo video with campy guitar music and levitating drone footage of everyday Waconians ice fishing, golfing, and swimming in mighty Lake Waconia.

But when the screen faded to black, Council Member Marc Carrier raised an accusatory finger. “The video was almost perfect,” he lashed out. “You should’ve finished with a sailboat.”

The Chamber president–recognizing a sloop enthusiast when she sees one–chose to agree vigorously with him. “The next video, I’ll do it with your sailboat!” she laughed.

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Carrier: “I brought some headshots of my sailboat with me–“

From the sexy video footage of their fair city, the city council turned to a mind-numbingly mundane topic: office machinery.

“We’re continually reviewing our processes,” a peppy young staffer began, “and with the age of our folder stuffer machine–we purchased the folder stuffer I believe in 2006. So it’s about ten years old and it’s starting to show its age.”

This is the first time in my life I’m hearing someone use the phrase “folder stuffer machine.” I imagine a Dr. Seuss-like contraption of moving arms and spinning wheels that turns flat folders into fat folders.

The folders were bulgy

The folders were bloozled

The folders were stuffed like the fur fluff of poodles!

“[The maintenance workers] are in here every other month changing out rollers or fixing something. And we just say, how can we be better with this folder stuffer machine?” the staffer asked rhetorically.

Acting Mayor Kent Bloudek was curious about the fate of the folder stuffer machine after they switched to a printing and mailing service. “Is the intent to hang onto the equipment until after the first year?” (Equipment? The folder stuffer has a name, sir!)

“I think that we can get rid of it within the next few months,” replied the employee coldly.

I think I know how THAT will go down:

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#81: Meridian, ID 1/24/17

Inside the vast Meridian council chamber, local holy man Pastor Larry offered an opening prayer that was part weather report–

“Dear Heavenly Father: we thank you for the snow, but for many of us you have given more than we need.”

–part community calendar–

“We look forward to the upcoming State of the City report.”

–and part international travel brochure.

“I asked a young Vietnamese lady why she moved to Meridian. She says, ‘I went online and saw it was one of the safest cities.'”

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Someone looked up Meridian, Idaho on the Internet? This sounds like fake news.

One of Meridian’s dedicated employees strode to the podium to brief council members on new fees for tidying up the parks. “Basically, we’re trying to recover the staffing cost to clean up before and after a party,” he explained. “There’s different prices based on the number of people likely to reserve that shelter.”

Council Member Luke Cavener raised an eyebrow in skepticism. “Can you share why it takes less time to clean up Centennial Park compared to Hillsdale Park? There’s a $10 difference.”

“Hillsdale Park, there’s a small splash pad there and a more significant playground,” explained the man. “As far as how much time it takes to clean one versus another, it depends on the party. Did they have a cake fight? It could be some people took advantage and they left a mess.”

A cake fight? Those Idaho Catholics are wilder than I thought!

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Maybe don’t do a wide shot of the audience?

But Council Member Cavener angrily shoved aside this sweet talk. “I personally struggle with the city playing favorites as to which shelters WE think are the most valuable.”

He eyeballed his notes. “It takes six staff hours to clean up Kleiner Park shelter A1?!”

Silence. After several uneasy moments, Mayor Tammy de Weerd offered a gentle correction.

“I guess we have to trust that personnel in the field have a grasp of the time commitments,” she said sternly. “I would also say–I’ve seen this personally–our staff is not just cleaning up. They’re running people out of shelters that want to be belligerent even though they didn’t reserve it. Our personnel play interference on a number of different issues.”

Cavener sat quietly. The mayor glanced out at the ghost town of seats.

“This is a public hearing. Is there anyone–gentleman–that would like to provide testimony?”

The one guy sitting with his child in the corner gave a polite smile and a wave, but said nothing. With Council Member Cavener voting “no,” the council passed the cleanup fees.

“Madam Mayor?” Cavener once more loaded up his artillery. “A number of weeks ago, we proposed the idea of a public forum for our citizens. I haven’t heard any progress made on that.”

Her Honor was startled. “I…don’t know. Was I there?” she asked incredulously. “If I don’t remember it, I can guarantee you, there was nothing that has happened.”

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Mayor: “Perhaps Mr. Benjamin Franklin would jog my memory….”

“I really like the idea,” Council Member Ty Palmer chimed in. “If nobody shows, so be it. If 25 people show, we’d like to hear ’em.”

“I’m kind of caught unawares,” the mayor murmured reluctantly, before offering her lukewarm endorsement. “We can bring back further information.”

Final thoughts: I give 10 out of 10 stars to the people who have to clean up after the Meridian cake fights.

#80: Moore, OK 1/17/17

I often hear from people around the globe who say, “we don’t want fewer Oklahoma city council meeting reviews. We want Moore.”

Well, my thirsty friends, it’s your lucky day.

The inauguration may be 1,300 miles away, but the Moore city council was twerking to a different type of party.

“Mayor and council, this is our annual renewal of the fireworks contract,” a bespectacled staffer braced himself on the podium. The price tag was steep: $49,500.

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Trivia: this meeting was filmed with the original Zapruder camera.

But, he vouched, “they provide an excellent show. This is our premier event that we do.”

Mayor Glenn Lewis raised his eyebrows out of sticker shock. “How does this compare to how much other cities spend?”

The man cleared his throat. “We’re at or near the top when it comes to fireworks expense. Mayor, we feel that the show we put on–the event really is a great event. We think we get the most bang for our buck.”

Or the biggest boom, as it were. But hey, I report and you decide. This is what $49-large of fireworks looks like:

“And how many people would you say come out?” quizzed Council Member Melissa Hunt.

“We think 20,000-30,000 people view the show,” the staffer guessed. Wow! For comparison, only two cats and a bottle of Colt 45 viewed MY illegal backyard fireworks show.

Council Member Adam Webb was all-in on the pyrotechnics. “I love this event. I don’t feel like Moore has a lot that we’re known for.”

Council Member, don’t be ridiculous! The Moore Oil & Lube and the R&S Gun Supply are some of the finest establishments in the Lower 48! You were saying?

“Last year, I showed the mayor and some other council members chatter on Instagram, Twitter, and social media–people have come to Moore and enjoyed this.”

Mayor Lewis leaned forward to seal the deal. “The show’s always good to me,” he offered. “I remember when they used to pass a bucket to pay for $2,000 worth of firecrackers.”

“That being said–” he winced as heads swiveled and I held my breath, “several people seemed to be upset about it. Is there anybody here that would like to speak on this?”

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“SHOW YOURSELVES, TRAITORS.”

The room was quiet as His Honor scanned the auditorium. The fate of our nation’s birthday was hanging in the balance.

“Okay, if you didn’t show up to complain,” he said with a smirk, “don’t complain anymore.”

Everyone exhaled as the council approved the fireworks show.

But to make the Fourth of July a little more festive, there was one other tiny gift from the village elders to the masses:

“Ordinance number 844-17, establishing a beer and wine license,” the mayor read from his notes.

An employee in a baggy suit explained the highly technical logic. “The licenses the city has now is: one for beer and one for mixed beverages. This would be in between. Restaurants could sell beer AND wine and choose not to pay the higher fee.”

The council swiftly okayed the new license–a great boon to Midwesterners who like their beer like they like their wine: in the same place.

Final thoughts: What this meeting lacked in sizzle, it made up for in patriotism. I give it 8 out of 10 sparkler sticks.

#79: Richmond, VA 1/9/17

When I tune in to a city council meeting, I’m expecting to see a dais, a half dozen fuzzy faces, and an oversize seal of the city staring at me.

What I’m not expecting is a TV host.

“Annnnnd this is Gavel to Gavel. I’m Dick Harman. Well, new year, new mayor, four new members on city council,” boomed a silver-maned announcer holding an old-school microphone that he may have bought secondhand off The Match Game.

With the conviction of a Super Bowl pregame commentator, Harman rattled off the stats about who was sitting next to whom on the council. (And coincidentally, I finally realized what my dream job is.)

“Boy, have there been some changes! So let’s get started,” he barked before reading off all 20 agenda items for my enlightenment.

“That’s the way it stands tonight. The new council is officially here. I’m Dick Harman–stay tuned!”

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Me in 40…er, 50 years.

The new council was seated, eager, and ready to pounce on the People’s Business. But the real star of the evening was city clerk Jean Capel, who fluttered around her desk in a whirlwind of papers and binder clips, speaking like an auctioneer on stock show day.

“I need a motion for expedited consideration of that paper–Ms. Gray will you make that motion?”

“So moved!” Councilwoman Kimberly Gray jumped in without missing a beat.

“And Ms. Robertson, will you second that? Council is voting on expedited consideration of that resolution as read. Mr. Jones?” The clerk tore through the roll call, dispatching with this item in just under 40 seconds.

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The Situation Room

Everything was running quickly and smoothly. But when Councilman Parker Agelasto politely requested that the city attorney share his opinion on controversial bonuses given by Richmond’s outgoing mayor, Councilwoman Reva Trammell poured some gas and lit a match.

“I guess he was sitting in his office with his feet propped up on his desk, smoking a cigar!” she ripped into the mayor. “Because he KNEW he was not going to run again and he KNEW he was probably going to give those four people–he was already thinking how was he going to reward them?”

The councilwoman pulled out the flamethrower and turned it to 11. “Mr. Ex-Mayor in my opinion did not have the right to do this. How can we stop this? The taxpayers are mad as hell!”

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MAD. AS. HELL! MAD. AS. HELL!

Councilman Agelasto swiveled in his seat and hesitated. “All that we’re trying to accomplish right now is to have the city attorney provide the legal opinion pertaining to the bonuses so that we can fix it.”

Council President Chris Hilbert gazed out at the room and issued a warning. “While I think we can all agree that this was unfortunate from a practical standpoint,” he drawled slowly, “we all took an oath last week to uphold the law.”

It wasn’t quite the torches-and-pitchforks response that Trammell was hoping for. But luckily, the meeting ended on a high note as the camera turned to a friendly face.

“Annnnnnd that is it for the night,” our distinguished TV host announced. “Don’t forget, two meetings a month from now till June. For Gavel to Gavel, I’m Dick Harman. Goodnight.”

Final thoughts: It was hard to pick the best part of this mee–I’m kidding, it was totally the host. A solid 10 out of 10 stars to him. I’m so jealous.

#78: Alamosa, CO 1/4/17

Things got off to a rocky start in Southern Colorado, but I’ll chalk it up to a lingering New Year’s hangover. What matters is that the People’s Servants stuck the landing on the city council of Alamosa–a.k.a. the “Gateway to the Great Sand Dunes.”

Or, in this case, the “Gateway to the Great Scott, What the Hell Is He Talking About?”

“You may wonder why I’m wearing the Raider apparel,” the public commenter in a football jersey barked at the top of the meeting. “Well, guess what? I saw Ken Stabler playing the Orange Bowl when I was living with my aunt and uncle in Miami. I’m watching this guy left handed, thread it like a needle. The Raiders came to Santa Rosa, California. I remember John Madden sitting there drinking a strawberry milkshake.”

He added–as if to read my mind–“enough about that. These goddamn two-lane roads and three-lanes roads–will you slow it down?! Or just pull over and sober up, whatever your damn problem is? Clean up your act!”

It was solid advice, which would have been slightly more solid if my mind wasn’t occupied with the image of John Madden sucking down a strawberry shake. Luckily, he polished off his tirade with an even more explicit changé d’image.

“I’m tailgated all the time around here. If you’re gonna be up my butt, pass or get off!” He signed off with: “my interest is special prize fighting.”

Having covered an entire council meeting’s worth of topics in only five minutes, he sat down. The city council stared impassively ahead. I hope each of their 2017 resolutions was to never be up that guy’s butt.

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For all this butt talk, I’m seeing way too much brown.

“I’ll make the motion to approve” a new trash truck and tool truck, announced Councilor Charlie Griego.

“Start voting please,” ordered Mayor Josef Lucero.

After a moment, “the motion carried unanimously,” revealed the clerk. Suddenly, she turned to the mayor. “So to clarify, who was the second?”

Mayor Lucero looked around sheepishly. “Did I have a second?”

Oh, no. No, no, no. We’re only four days into January and the Alamosa city council is already crying out for a savior!

“I will second,” Councilor Kristina Daniel heroically volunteered.

“I thought I heard a second,” the mayor muttered, still beating himself up over the elementary mistake. “Sorry! We’ll re-vote! Start voting please.”

With the T’s crossed, the I’s dotted, and the motions seconded, the vote passed.

With all that unpleasantness out of the way, Councilor Ty Coleman had a belated Christmas surprise for Public Works Director Pat Steenburg.

“I was shopping at a Treasure Alley the other day and the owner was really applauding the efforts of the team going out there and removing the snow as quickly as they did,” he said.

“The ironic thing–right after she made this positive comment in front of a store full of people, Pat walked in. So,” he waved his hand, “that was very interesting.”

Indeed. Although just because they’re removing the snow quickly, motorists should still slow down on the two-lane roads to avoid being up that guy’s butt.

#77: Hutchinson, KS 1/3/17

Folks, 2017 will be a year of uncertainty. Fear. Turmoil.

But all of that faded away when the mustachioed man in the camo-sleeve pullover strode to the Hutchinson city council microphone.

You could tell: he was here to Make Hutchinson Great Again.

“I’m sure you’ve all received my petition in the mail. I’m here to formally represent that petition,” he intoned with a deep, reassuring voice. All signs pointed to this guy having some major grievance with the city council–but honestly, I could listen to him narrate movie trailers all day. His voice was that soothing.

But I’m sorry, you were saying something about tyranny?

“Governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed. And the government role is to protect our rights, not to find exceptions,” he murmured, like some sort of Ken Burns documentary.

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He has two guns in those sleeves and 25 in the bunker.

“Your opinion is your theology, and any opinion contrary to the fact I set forth is contrary to our basis of governance. That is why I am requesting repeal of the tax for the support of the sports arena. We’d like to see the city council repeal all ordinances that are destructive of the life, liberty, property, and prosperity of the people of Hutchinson.”

There was a dramatic pause as the John Williams musical score in my head stopped playing.

“Thank you. We appreciate it,” Mayor Jon Daveline casually replied. Then, cheerfully, “next item, please!”

The city attorney leaned forward in his chair, giving the audience an exclusive view of the hyper-expressive sign language translator.

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Love. Her.

“There was a bill passed by the Kansas legislature moving elections to the fall–and requiring an extension of your terms,” he announced. As a smirk spread across his lips, he added, “so let me be the first to thank you for your additional months of service!”

Everyone laughed, perhaps a bit TOO hard.

“This extends your terms from April of this year to January 2018,” he elaborated. “For those whose terms would have expired not in 2017 but in 2019, your terms are extended to 2020.”

Not everybody was elated.

“I mean, they [the voters] might want us out in April and we’re here for another eight months,” Councilmember Jade Piros de Caravalho observed with a mournful chuckle.

“So…the changing of the guard will not occur until WHEN?!” exclaimed the mayor half-jokingly.

“You’re stuck!” Councilmember Nancy Soldner clucked.

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Lock the doors.

At this point, Camo Sleeves jumped uninvited back up to the mic. Cue the music from Braveheart.

“The city does retain the right to stand up and say we will not comply with any law the state comes out with,” he urged them defiantly. “You do have that right. You don’t have to comply with their laws.”

Mayor Daveline shifted uncomfortably, no doubt realizing that the Civil War started over something similar to this. “We’re…gonna take the advice of our city attorney here–”

“The law is often the rule of tyrants,” Camo said firmly. “That’s just the way it is.”

The color had drained from the city attorney’s face. “Uh…the authority that a city has is granted to it by the state of Kansas. If they didn’t grant us the authority…we couldn’t exist.”

Final thoughts: It’s a tough call…they didn’t stand up to tyranny. But they did avoid an inter-governmental apocalypse. I give these council members 8 out of 10 camo-sleeve pullovers.

#76: Schenectady, NY 12/27/16

For the last city council meeting of 2016, I couldn’t have picked a more beautiful council chamber: ornate chairs, delicate chandeliers, intricate woodwork. It looked more like the set of “Hamilton” than a municipal building.

But the room was also deeply, deeply confusing: the six council members were crowded into a single wooden desk–cafeteria style. The council president had her own luxurious dais in roughly the next ZIP code.

And then, there was the graphics department:

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“Councilman Textbox Head has the floor.”

However, the phrase “lipstick on a pig” sprung to mind, as the beautiful room was consumed by a series of irate public commenters tearing each council member a new rectum and–occasionally–making sense.

“Regarding the Uber issue,” a woman in a baggy blazer slowly wound herself up. “What is an ‘Uber?’ Is it generic? Is it a brand name? Is it a transitive verb? Is it a modifying adverb? I’d like to know.”

I had absolutely zero read on whether she was kidding. My heart said she wasn’t, and my head said, “oh, god, this is gonna get worse.”

“I picked up some statistics. Our seven new electric motorcycles–” she continued.

“Okay, this is about Uber and Lyft,” cut in Council President Leesa Perazzo with some exasperation. “It’s NOT about electric vehicles.”

“Well,” the woman huffed, “these can be hooked up if it’s electric motorcycles. There are many acres of forestland being destroyed for motorcycle lanes!”

Uh, point…taken? I’m sure all of the Uber drivers with electric motorcycles are quaking in their helmets.

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“Is it a house? Is it a mouse? Is it in a box? Is it with a fox?”

The next commenter was a tiny balding man in a sweater vest who spoke with a slight impediment and even slighter enthusiasm.

“I’d like to speak on what I call ‘my two cents’ on the smoking ordinance. When I found that this council had passed us a law, I went, ‘seriously? Did the council pass that without realizing some people are not gonna like it?'”

He was referring to a new ordinance banning people from smoking in cars when minors are present. Also, he was apparently new to the concept that city councils do things people don’t agree with.

He sagely added, “I don’t think anybody in the government has been using the brains or common sense…things.”

Well, this has been enlightening. And another anti-anti-smoking commenter stomped to the podium. “If you have custody of those children and you tend to be in a car that’s bought and paid for, that’s your personal property! You can do anything you want with your personal property!” he fumed.

Amen! That’s the same logic I use to run a dog-fighting ring in my basement and cook meth in my RV. Read the Constitution.

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Basically my reaction

And if the comments from the public hadn’t soured the mood enough, Councilman Vincent Riggi stood up to seal the deal. “Just to clarify the vote on the smoking: YOU brought up that it’s our part to not abstain, Madam President. I don’t know WHY that left-handed shot had to come out. That’s certainly my prerogative to abstain,” he snapped.

“I thought we were beyond that, but I guess we’re not. And I thought YOU were beyond that, but apparently not.”

Pause.

“I won’t answer any of the other nonsense I heard tonight,” he slammed the microphone down.

Here’s to a Happy New Year?