Somewhere out there, a city council meeting is happening. And you're not watching it. But I am. Each week, I bring you the highlights, lowlights, and weirdlights from places you don't live.
I am stoked to report that City Council Chronicles has partnered with the makers of Pokémon Go to create a fun new game: City Cóuncil Go!
Here’s how to play:
1. Search for city council members.
Walk around the perimeter of your city hall until you spot a city council member. Usually they are dressed nicely, carrying a latte in one hand and a folder of important documents in the other. When in doubt, consult a City Cóuncildex.
2. Capture the city council member.
(Sold separately)
3. Make them fight each other.
They may not want to do it at first, but with a little training and the right amount of food deprivation, those city council members will be dueling in no time.
4. Have them get interviewed by City Council Chronicles.
Grab some chowdah and pahk your cah in the yahd–today we head to Boston!
Immediately, I knew that the MVP of this council meeting would be city clerk Maureen Feeney, who called roll in the most legit Boston accent this side of Bunker Hill.
“Councilah Flehrety [Flaherty]…Councilah MaCaathy [McCarthy]…Councilah Wooah [Wu],” she blurted out like a hotdog vendor at Fenway Park.
As a pastor stepped to the dais to offer the day’s prayer, it raised an important question: why is the Boston city council meeting in the concrete basement of Montresor from “The Cask of Amontillado”?
“Fah the love of gahd, Mahntresoah!”
Councilors got down to business, with the clerk helpfully narrating the big issues:
“Dahket numbah 0993: accept for the city of Bahstan a donation from the Coast Gaahd. The boat and trailah will be added to the Habah Patrol and will benefit the city of Bahstan.”
“Dahket numbah 0823, sponsored by the mayah: Bahstan Latin School pahtial boilah replacement.”
But it wasn’t all trailahs and boilahs–there were serious problems facing the council as well.
Gas leaks: “There are anywhere from 1,300–which was a conservative estimate–[or] double or triple that,” Councilor Matt O’Malley cautioned.
LGBTQ youth: “Of the youth studied, one in five attempted suicide in the past year,” Councilor Josh Zakim fretted.
People without IDs: “Getting a formal identification card is burdensome for certain communities–undocumented immigrants, residents who are experiencing homelessness, transgender,” Council President Michelle Wu wu-arned.
Yikes, I haven’t seen this much chaos in Boston since any given Red Sox game.
Hey, closed captioning: start spelling with an accent ya chowdahead!
But all was not lost. Riding in like Paul Revere was Councilor Ayanna Pressley. “I’m rising to create a little peer pressure for everyone,” she said cheekily. “If your spouse’s birthday falls on the same day as the council meeting, you will now feel the pressure to do the same thing I’m doing: happy birthday, sweetheart! Thirty-nine years young!”
Let’s see…13 council spouses…52 council meetings per year…the odds of another birthday happening are…gosh, where’s a math-savvy MIT janitor when you need one?
And what’s even better than a Boston birthday? A Boston boast-day:
“My office was contacted by the comptroller in New York City looking for information on our free sunscreen in the parks program,” Councilor O’Malley bragged. “This is a public health service that we are offering at zero cost to the taxpayer. New York City is piloting it this summer at their city pools.”
He gave a sly grin. “So I wanted to congratulate the great city of New York for ONCE AGAIN following Boston’s lead.” The other councilors whooped and guffawed like it was the second coming of the Boston Tea Party. (I admired their restraint for not also chanting “YANK-EES SUCK!”)
Councilor O’Malley gives the traditional Boston gesture of respect.
And on that note of being BRIEFLY, on ONE thing, SLIGHTLY better than New York, the council adjourned for some Dunkin’ Donuts and a packy of Sam Adams.
Final thoughts: What a wicked pissa of a council meeting! For slipping an F-U to New Yorkers, I give this meeting 8 out of 10 deflated Patriots footballs.
A few weeks ago I chronicled the London, Ohio city council meeting. To refresh your memory, it was a real humdinger, with the mayor’s “fun fact” being that he lit a barrel on fire downtown. You know–the People’s Business.
Well, a little Buckeye Birdie told me that London City Hall took notice.
Sure enough, during last week’s city council meeting, His Honor the mayor had a few choice words for the Chronicles:
Mayor: Now on to the mayor fun fact. Some of you already know we’re starting to get some national attention. There’s a man out there by the name of Michael Karlik who has a hobby of reviewing city council meetings from all over the United States…everybody has their own hobbies, I guess.
[Collective sigh from council members. One councilwoman lays her head on the desk.]
Hobby? I think you meant “public service,” sir.
Mayor: I’m not sure how he stumbled upon ours, but he did. And he wrote about us and tagged me on Facebook and Twitter. And it was about our June 16 meeting. Most of the focus was on my mayor fun fact last month, which I talked about lighting a barrel on fire in downtown London for the movie. So I thought I would pay him the ultimate compliment by making him my mayor fun fact for this meeting.
I am genuinely honored, Your Honor! I’m sure the flaming barrel feels the same way!
Mayor: The writing was actually very witty and well done, I thought. I got a good laugh out of it and it was pretty interesting, so if you guys want to go back and look at it, most of you guys were mentioned in the article. It’s under councilchronicles.com. So you guys can check that out. I just thought it was pretty funny.
Is anyone else crying because they have something in their eye?
I am deeply grateful to the mayor for his shout-out at the city council meeting. So much so that I am officially naming London, Ohio as a “Friend of the Chronicles.” With that status, of course, comes the right of prima nocta over all other city councils, plus this trophy.
Readers, if you ever find yourselves passing through London, remember to stop and give the mayor a pat on the back and a smooch on the cheek. Then gently whisper in his ear, “You’ve been chronicled!”
Grab a spot of tea and a bite of porridge, for we’re off to London! And I do mean one bite of porridge: the London, Ohio council meeting was over so quickly, you’d barely have time to boil water.
Getting started took some effort. As the camera rolled, council members giggled and gossiped with each other.
“Did you get my e-mail?”
“The one foot’s broken, but the other one’s swollen.”
“It’s been awhile since you’ve been here!”
“They only X-rayed the ankle.”
Council President Jennifer Hitt swayed her chair back and forth, patiently glancing to each side of the dais. When the endless chatter finally died down, alas! Council Member Brenda Russell hastily retreated to a back room with her cell phone glued to her ear.
“You’re holding up the meeting,” President Hitt teased when Russell eventually reappeared.
Finally, five whole minutes into the “meeting,” the meeting began.
“I did go to the Ohio Mayors Association meeting today,” boyish, bow tie-clad Mayor Patrick Closser announced. “But I wanted to get back and tell you guys my mayor fun fact.”
Something MORE fun than the Ohio Mayors Association meeting?! Please, Your Honor, talk quickly so I don’t die of anticipation!
But first, the mayor channeled his inner IT guy: “If you haven’t seen the city’s new website, check it out. Tell me what you guys think.”
Then his inner tough guy: “You all heard about the drug sweep that took place last week. Dope dealers: we’re gonna get ya. We’re gonna find ya.”
Fun fact: only my grandpa and Mayor Patrick Closser call them “dope dealers.”
“Now, time for the fun fact.” FUN FACT! FUN FACT! “I was able to light a 55 gallon metal barrel on fire in the middle of downtown. Which was awesome.”
…Oh-kay. I’ll take his word for it being awesome. So why was London’s head honcho dabbling in pyrotechnics?
“The movie Last Riot: Madison has been filming in town for a couple weeks. During the night shoots, I got the overnight shift from 9 p.m. to 5 a.m. and Mr. [Joe] Mosier [the safety director] would come in–and NOT bring me breakfast. They needed some extra people to help. They said, ‘would you light a barrel on fire?'”
Everyone nodded approvingly. I guess this is as fun as fun facts get here–although I remember when Ohioans used to light an entire RIVER on fire.
Doesn’t that look fun?
Not everyone had such a kickass week, though.
“Probably going to touch on a sore subject,” sighed Council Member Rex Castle, “but Mr. Mosier mentioned last meeting about property owners taking pride of their property.”
He became livid at these scofflaws. “There are some places that are just terrible to look at. Step up, people! Take pride in your city! Take care of your properties!” Now he was in a full lather. “They’re talking about the Zika? Possible pandemic? We keep this stuff mowed down, it’s gonna be in best interest of people’s health in this town.”
The council silently absorbed his rage. After a pause, President Hitt graveled the meeting to a swift close.
“Look at that. I doubted the time!” she laughed.
“Take care of business right, you get in and out,” sagely observed Council Member Russell.
Meanwhile, Council Member Megan Douglas worriedly whispered, “do you know if they’re spraying for mosquitoes?”
Final thoughts: I give this meeting 0 out of 1 flaming barrels.
I had an absolute blast interviewing Avon, Ohio’s retiring city council clerk, Ellen Young. She’s been working the council meetings for an impressive 16 years!
During her final week on the job, she told me about keeping calm, checking your ego, and friendly rivalries.
—
Q: First things first: Avon doesn’t have video of its council meetings! Why not?
A: I’m not sure. It’s been brought up occasionally but it never seems to go anywhere.
Q: How many people show up to watch?
A: Almost nobody. They’re very poorly attended. Typically there’s only one or two people that come because they find them interesting and it’s their Monday night out to see what’s going on in the city.
Q: Wait. You’re saying there are people who ENJOY coming to the council meetings? Like it’s a date night at the movies?
A: Well, maybe. Maybe it’s something to do to get out….They’re from an era when being involved in government was more of a privilege than a burden, you know?
Q: I wouldn’t know–I watch city council meetings for a living. Speaking of which, what’s your job during the meetings? You read everything, right?
A: We read legislation by title only. The person who is replacing me came from Rittman, Ohio and THEY read the entire document.
Q: Yikes.
A: She just clerked her first meeting on Monday and she’s a fast reader, I’ll tell you. She flew through that stuff.
Avon, OH City Council Clerk Ellen Young
Q: How do you prepare for a council meeting? Do you meditate? Listen to metal music?
A: I’m one of the most laid back people you’ll ever meet. If I know something’s going to be happening during a council meeting that’s controversial, I just prepare myself mentally for a longer meeting, that’s all. I’ll probably live forever! I stay pretty calm. I do a lot of muttering under my breath–THAT blows off steam!
Q: Really, you don’t get upset?
A: I was a bartender for 17 years and it prepared me eminently for working with the public. I spend as much time as people need explaining things to them. It’s all about being a public servant and understanding the meaning of those terms.
Q: You sound practically like a council member yourself! Do you ever feel like you should be on the council?
A: [pause] I probably wouldn’t be a good person to be…well…maybe someday. I wouldn’t mind serving on a council somewhere.
Q: Do you ever talk to other clerks about each other’s city councils?
A: I go to conferences and hear people talk about what’s going on in their city and I come back so proud of Avon because people here don’t behave like children typically. And I’m really delighted that egos don’t seem to play a big role in public meetings.
Q: I noticed there’s an Avon, Ohio and an Avon Lake, Ohio. Is there a rivalry between you guys?
A: Personally, the clerk of council in Avon Lake is one of my best friends.
Q: Who would win in a skeet shooting competition: you or the clerk in Avon Lake?
A: I’m an excellent shot, so I think I would win.
Q: What if I told you I talked to her yesterday and she said that she would win hands down?
I wish I could say the Baltimore city council meeting was all lollipops and kittens. But it wasn’t. Oh, no–it wasn’t at all. Maybe there’s a bug going around, because some council members contracted a case of butthurt.
Right out of the gate, people were peeved: the mayor vetoed the council’s two charter amendments that would have curbed her power. Now, some council members wanted to give Her Honor the collective middle finger.
To bypass the veto, almost every single person would need to vote yes. Would they stick together?
Yes…yes…no…yes…no…the clerk went down the list.
It failed, 9-5. Round 1: the mayor.
They moved on to the second amendment. Midway through the roll call, Councilman Pete Welch stood up. “On the last vote, can I change my vote?”
“I think you can,” Council President Jack Young started, but was drowned out by murmurs from the council members. “Only by unanimous consent,” he corrected himself. They would take care of him after the vote.
Final tally: 8-5. Match: the mayor.
Councilman Pete Welch wants to change his vote, but ironically wants to keep that tie.
Back to Councilman Welch: “Do all council members agree that he can change his vote?” the president asked. Titters of objection percolated on the floor. “Remember, when you all wanna change your vote, it comes back to haunt you,” the president warned, growing visibly irked.
The clerk called out Councilman Brandon Scott. “Are we voting to allow Councilman Welch to change his vote?” Scott asked peevishly.
“Yes,” President Young responded.
Scott leaned waaaaaaay back in his chair. “No.”
Someone chuckled. Others rolled their eyes.
“You can’t change your vote. It’s not unanimous,” the president shrugged at Welch. A devilish smirk crossed his lips. “So just remember that.”
He had a few choice words for the people who took the mayor’s side earlier. “We holler we’re a democratic society and we want our constituents to voice their opinion, and yet the council says no,” he ranted, while the clerk standing next to him put on a solid poker face. “This is not about the council president. I think we have failed the citizens tonight. We just laid down on this one.”
Blink twice if you want us to airlift you out of there!
Councilwoman Rikki Spector rose for a rebuttal. “I understand your frustration–”
“I’m not frustrated,” the president snapped, not hiding his frustration AT ALL.
Councilwoman Spector reminded him that she also wanted a charter amendment once, but the council voted her down. “It would have been an opportunity also for this democratic process to work. I understand why you’re frustrated,” she said, adding sarcastically, “well, you’re not frustrated, are you?”
Picking up his mic, Councilman Bill Henry gestured to the back of the room. “We have some guests in the audience today. We have fourth and fifth graders.” Jesus, why would you invite children to watch council members be catty to each other? Is this the Real Housewives School of Too Much Drama?
“Now I get to go in there and explain any questions they might have,” Councilman Henry chuckled, with a hint of regret. Question 1: “Why did that guy yell for five minutes if he wasn’t frustrated? Does he know what ‘frustrated’ means?”
Damn, girl, are you the Baltimore council’s carpet? Because you look fiiiinnee!
Final thoughts: I think the lesson here is, it’s good to be mayor! You really get to push the council’s buttons, and you don’t have to be in the room with them! I give this meeting 2 out of 2 vetoes.
Big day for City Council Chronicles: it’s our first interview with a living, breathing, city council member!
And this isn’t just any John Q. Councilor. I talked to Baltimore’s own Rochelle “Rikki” Spector, who has been a city councilwoman for nearly 40 jaw-dropping years. Naturally, being from Charm City, she was off-the-charts friendly. She told me all about double-crossers, power struggles, and city hall’s comfy cushions.
—
Q: When you first got on city council, did you ever think you’d be there 40 years?
A: I never thought I’d be the longest serving–living–local elected official in the history of Maryland.
Q: I couldn’t find any council member who’s been serving longer than you. Do you think you might be the longest-serving in the whole country?
A: I don’t know about the country. I know in Maryland, one of my colleagues thought it was him. And he did research and found out it was me!
Q: How well do you get along with the other council members?
A: I get tremendous respect from my colleagues.
Q: I mean, when the cameras are on, it seems like everyone is nice to each other. But statistically, it’s impossible for coworkers to get along all of the time. Is there anyone who gets under your skin?
A: Oh, yes. I have a colleague that–and this is just between you and me…[REDACTED: ALL THE GOOD PARTS]…you don’t leave your constituents.
Q: Have you ever been blindsided by someone who said in private they’d support something but then they turn around–
A: Oh, yes! I once had a councilperson say to me that he was going to support a bill, and then he voted against it. And I went over to him–totally, totally amazed–and I said, “I can’t believe that you lied to me!” He said, “So I lied.”
Q: Oh no.
A: That person’s not on the council now. But I have no regard for him. It’s almost an affront to your intelligence, “so I lied.”
Councilwoman Rochelle “Rikki” Spector
Q: How many people show up to watch the city council meetings?
A: We have a double chamber. We have a balcony upstairs. Every seat is always taken.
Q: Is there anything strange that has happened at a city council meeting?
A: Well, I hope you’ll watch tomorrow night–
Q: I will now!
A: There are two charter amendments that the council has approved that the mayor has vetoed. Tomorrow is the last meeting whether the members want to override the mayor’s veto. And there would need to be 12 members voting to override.
Q: Gimme a prediction, councilwoman. What’ll happen?
A: I do believe the mayor’s veto will stand.
Q: What a power struggle! I’ll tune in. Speaking of which, I know that Washington, D.C. and Baltimore have a rivalry. Who would win in a pickup basketball game: the D.C. council or the Baltimore city council?
A: The Baltimore council, of course.
Q: Which is better: the Washington Nationals or the Baltimore Orioles?
A: The Baltimore Orioles, of course!
Q: What are the chairs like in your council chamber? Are they comfortable?
A: We have leather, upholstered swivel chairs that are very comfortable.
Q: Those sound amazing. I’ve seen city council meetings where it’s like a middle school cafeteria with metal chairs and folding tables. I’m glad Baltimore spares no expense.
A: We spend a lot of time in those chairs. I work nine days a week! It’s a calling, not a job.
The auction block was hot at the Lebanon city council meeting! People lined up left and right to annex land for their own kinky purposes, and the council was in charge of moving the merchandise.
Vest-clad, avuncular community development honcho Walt Wendolowski rattled off the three pieces of primo Oregon soil for annexation. Mayor Paul Aziz called out to the back of the room, “Would the applicant like to speak?”
“I just wanna say,” Applicant #1 reported, “I approve of the staff report and enjoy working with the city of Lebanon.” He promptly walked back to his seat.
Applicant #2 didn’t even bother getting out of his chair. “I think Walt covered it all,” he hollered.
Applicant #3 tied him in word economy, sitting down for all of two seconds simply to say: “I concur with Walt’s staff report.”
It was a scene reminiscent of the Lincoln-Douglas debates, when Abraham Lincoln famously retorted, “Yeah, I think Walt has the right idea.”
It is biologically impossible to disagree with Walt.
After approving all three requests, there was another land matter of what to do about a shipping container someone plopped down in a neighborhood. Here to talk about it was–surprise–our man Walt Wendolowski.
“You know, at the Rotary meeting, if you see a person this much, there’d be a fine for it,” he joked, taking out his wallet and pretending to put a dollar into the I’m-Talking-Too-Much bucket. The city could ignore the trailer or try to boot it, but “in the past 15 years we’ve had only two issues,” Walt noted.
“I’m not a big fan of government telling me what I can do with my property,” warned grizzled Councilor Rebecca Grizzle. “If I want to have something hideous in my backyard, that’s subjective. And I’ve had to look at hideous things in other people’s backyards.” Tell me about it! If I have to look out the window and see my neighbor’s butterface kids one more time–
“I agree. The whole aesthetic thing is….we’d start saying ‘can you not paint your house purple?'” Mayor Aziz concurred.
Lebanon will defend your right to make your house look like a hideous purple monstrosity.
Councilor Jason Bolen had a community update from his perch as the local youth baseball coach (go Warriors!). “We have been able to install turf around all of the home plates and all of the mounds,” he bragged. “The kids just love them. You should see these kids learning how to slide coming into home. Instead of doing it on dirt and kind of doing a skid, hop, and a rollover, these guys are sliding in there when they have to and when they don’t have to!”
“I like the sign,” Councilor Grizzle whispered mischievously.
Councilor Bolen chuckled at the inside joke. “Yeah…I did that one. It says: ‘These are kids. They’re not professionals. Coaches are volunteers. Umpires are human. None of these kids are going to get a pro contract today. Relax.'”
Also, on the back of the sign: “Your dreams are dead. Fun is an illusion. Mediocrity is noble. Vote Bolen for Council.”
Final thoughts: From letting a disgusting trailer sit to making a sign that says your kid isn’t gonna make it, the Lebanon city council is a real “live-and-let-live” crowd. It’s the kind of place where I’d be proud to paint my house magenta. I give this meeting 7 out of 10 stars.
If you were passing through Delaware, Ohio, you could’ve watched “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.” No, not the Clint Eastwood movie. I’m talking about this week’s city council meeting, which was such an adrenaline-filled roller-coaster ride, pregnant women should stop reading now.
First, the good news: Delaware needs more money to par-tay! “In case you haven’t noticed, we are going to have a record number of openings of parks, etc. over the next several weeks,” assistant city manager Jacqueline Walker boasted. “To celebrate these accomplishments for the citizens, we’re trying to”–get some strippers and champagne, ya’ll!–“have an additional $9,500 to pay for these openings as well as investing in a tent that actually has the City of Delaware logo.”
Oh, hell yeah! You can do anything in a tent–start a mosh pit, pass out city-branded key chains…Delaware, you nasty! Although, there’s one thing you can’t do in the tent: sit.
“You’re gonna have a tent? What about chairs?” asked Councilman Joe DiGenova, a huge fan of tush-resting.
“The tent that we’re looking at is a small place,” the assistant city manager explained. Okay, so maybe no mosh pit. Or even a barbecue pit. You’d be lucky to have room for peach pits in there.
Next up: the bad. During public comment, resident Dwayne “My Real Name” Johnson scissor-kicked the local watering hole.
“Does the city council currently have any plans to build a full size pool?” Johnson attacked.
“Well, we have a pool at Mingo [Park],” Mayor Carolyn Kay Riggle defended.
“If you go there during the summer, you can’t find a place to put your towel down and the pool’s full,” he body slammed her argument.
Councilman George Hellinger tagged in, saying they built a splash pad at Veterans Memorial Park.
“Why would you put a splash pad in rather than a regular pool like Mingo that has a kid’s pool?” Johnson heart punched.
“Well, now all the kids will be at the splash pad,” the mayor laughed nervously, sensing the K.O.
“Adults and teenagers are not going to sit on a splash pad. That’s not gonna happen.” Boom! Down for the count. The Need-Another-Pool Avenger does a massive take down of his arch-nemesis: the Delaware City Council.
Dwayne Johnson: slayer of giants, enthusiast of empty pools
Finally, the ugly. It seems that there’s trash mysteriously appearing downtown, and Councilwoman Lisa Keller is patient zero. “I’ve become the face of downtown trash,” she warned. “I get messages that there’s trash–with pictures–and I forward them to the city manager. I’m happy to do it, but there’s got to be a better way.”
Councilman Herrington cut in: “‘I am the face of garbage in Delaware.’ That’s a great headline.”
Assistant city manager Walker took pity on the councilwoman from the Trashpile District. “That may not be sustainable for them to come out and pick that up. I agree with you, you shouldn’t be the face of that.” Things could be worse: she could be the face of the urine-saturated Mingo Park pool instead.
Final thoughts: I’m disappointed the council did not find the obvious solution: seal the new tent, fill it up with water so Dwayne can swim in it–and in exchange for his private pool, he has to pick up trash downtown.
City Council Chronicles 