Category: Southeast

#72: Louisville, KY 12/8/16

UPDATE: You can now listen to a dramatic reading of this review on iTunes, Stitcher, Player FM and right here:

What do you do when a council meeting is so emotional–so raw–that it makes the winter a little colder, the night a little darker, and the world a little more vulnerable?

The Louisville Metro Council was a sight to behold: 26 people. Young and old. Black and white. Thick Kentucky accents and thicker Kentucky accents. David Yates, the youthful council president with hair slicker than a mint julep at sunrise, stared icily at the overflowing chamber.

“For those that are addressing the landmark designation of Tremont Drive, the council will not accept any further testimony. ANY attempts by ANYONE will be ruled out of order,” he warned with the gravity of a doctor breaking the news about your husband’s coma.

“Mr. Clerk, would you please bring up our first speaker?”

An older man with a white goatee lumbered to the podium. If you took all of my college professors and mashed them into one person, this would be the dude.

“I am new to the city, having moved here a year ago,” he began casually.  “Tonight, I urge the council to delay the granting of a demolition permit for the Powell/Smith House for a couple of reasons. Delaying–”

President Yates sharply cut him off.

“Excuse me. Did you–” he sounded incredulous. “I JUST had to read that we are not to address the landmarks decision. We cannot hear ANY information relating to the landmark.”

The man looked hurt. “Can I continue if I do not?”

The president softened. “If you do not.”

The man adjusted his glasses and stared down at his papers. He paused. “Another reason for delaying the decision on the Powell/Smith House is to allow time to fully document–” home boy picked up exactly where he left off!

Two men behind him covered their mouths stifling laughter. Even his own lips creeped upward into a grin as he shamelessly trolled the council.

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Well played

President Yates was enraged. He slammed the gavel on his desk. The man looked up.

“I’m done?” the man asked innocently.

Yes, yes he was. His heart was in the right place. But his mouth was not.

As the chamber settled down, Council Member Robin Engel took to the microphone with bittersweet news.

“After 27 years of service, Monica Hodge will be retiring from Metro government,” he beamed at the woman standing to his right. He leaned into the podium and suddenly took on the role of emcee in a “This Is Your Life” trip down memory lane. He waved over Kentucky political titan Rebecca Jackson, who strode to the microphone with an air of confidence.

She grasped Hodge’s hand. “If I reached out my hand and said, ‘come pray with me,’ Monica would come pray with me. We saw a lot of those prayers answered, including those prayers for her health and those prayers for our crazy husbands who never knew where we were. Monica, we love you.” The two women embraced and the chamber erupted in applause and laughter.

But the eulogy wasn’t over yet. Council Member Engel gestured to the ample man with the broad shoulders and a bright tie. “Pastor Hodge?”

“Oh, good evening!” the pastor bellowed with a wide grin. “Let’s take up an offering, that’s what I say! Ha ha ha!” The audience went wild.

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Can I get an Amen?

“I love my wife. And what you see here is what you see at home. I’ve gone through a lot. Open heart surgery. I do dialysis. But–” his voice quaked and he blinked back tears. His voice became high and tiny. “But I stand here today because I have someone who stands with me. An amazing lady. Your loss is my gain.”

All around him, heads nodded like a Sunday sermon. “Thank you.”

Finally, Hodge stepped forward to a 15-second standing ovation. “I want to give thanks first of all to the lord because ten years ago I didn’t know if I would be standing here tonight, struggling to to get through a day of chemo.” Her husband, the pastor, wiped his eyes.

“Enjoy every tomorrow that you’ve got because you don’t know what life is gonna bring you. You’ve all blessed my life in some way. I thank you for that.”

As Hodge and her entourage cleared the chamber, there was one piece of lingering business that, unpleasant as it was, had to be done.

“We are reviewing the landmarks designation,” President Yates announced heavily. “The commission voted to landmark. The committee voted to overturn. The resolution is now before the full council.”

The lone man wishing to speak was Council Member Tom Owens and he had one heartfelt plea: save this house.

“There is a certain innocence, I think, that we all share. And this innocence is that the landmarking process ought to be without rancor. But the truth of the matter is,” he spoke carefully and quietly, like a tired old lawyer begging the jury not to sentence his client to death, “the truth of the matter is when it comes to the old farmhouse in your subdivision, or in your neighborhood, there is going to be some desire to see that old house” saved.

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“Don’t make me chain myself to this house.”

With dark circles under his eyes, he hunched down in his chair. “Our decision to overturn the Landmarks Commission will, in all likelihood, bring the wrecking ball to that” 145-year old house. “Thank you, colleagues.”

No one else came to his defense. Owens and two others voted to save the house. Twenty-two council members voted to destroy it.

In one night, the city lost a valued employee and a valued home. Such is life in the hollers of Kentucky.

Interview #24: Charleston, WV Councilman Andy Richardson (with podcast)

This podcast interview is available on iTunes, Stitcher, Player FM and right here:

It’s our first trip into West Virginia and we couldn’t have gotten a better guest! Andy Richardson is a councilman on the Charleston city council–and also a professor 160 miles away at WVU (go Mountaineers). Interestingly, he once served on the South Charleston city council, too. We talked about the differences there, his front row seat, and his favorite “Take Me Home, Country Roads” version.

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Q: I am a little outraged at you because Charleston city council does not post the videos of its meetings online. What’s the deal there–are you not wearing pants?

A: [Laughs] No, it’s a very old, historic council chamber. And perhaps that’s something we should look at.

Q: Is there assigned seating?

A: Yes, we each have a specific seat to sit in and that’s determined by the mayor.

Q: The mayor! So, does he play favorites? Put his friends up front, put the troublemakers in the back?

A: No, I wouldn’t say that. He’s pretty fair about where he sits people.

Q: Where do you sit?

A: In a prior term I was on the back row. In the current term, I’m on the front row.

Q: Ooooh. And did you get that front row seat by doing anything special for the mayor?

A: There are those who would say a seat in the back row is a better seat!

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Charleston, WV Councilman Andy Richardson

Q: There are 26 people on the Charleston city council. Twenty-six! What, are you starting a football team or something?

A: Well, it’s a very community-driven city council. What it means is, if there are issues of concern in your neighborhood, there’s a strong likelihood that a neighbor is a member of the city council.

Q: Now, something that’s fairly rare about you is that you were a councilman in two different cities. In 1987 you were on the South Charleston city council. Did it feel like when you got on the Charleston city council, that everything was familiar to you? Like muscle memory?

A: The Charleston city council experience is significantly different from the South Charleston city council–partly because of the size of the council. There’s far less paper today than there was back in the 1980s. There was no “website” for the city in that era.

Q: Uh-huh.

A: Charleston actually has written in the charter and ordinances the procedure for conduct of the council. South Charleston used Robert’s Rules of Order.

Q: Do you prefer being one of nine or one of 26?

A: They’re different. I feel blessed to have been elected three different times to two different city councils. [Charleston] is similar in feel to a lot of legislative bodies. [South Charleston] was a nine-member council and the positioning of the seats was like a board of directors meeting or something.

Q: Have you ever gone to meetups for local government officials and tried to find out if anyone else was in the elite platinum multi-city councilman club?

A: [Laughs] I have not! I’m sure they exist, but I’ve never thought of it like that.

Q: Which do you prefer? The John Denver version of “Take Me Home, Country Roads” or the Judy Collins version?

A: I’ll take John Denver, but you really ought to hear Me First and the Gimme Gimmes sometime.

Follow Councilman Andy Richardson on Twitter: @ANR57

Interview #22: Jackson, MS Councilman De’Keither Stamps (with podcast)

This podcast interview is available on iTunes, Stitcher, Player FM and right here:

De’Keither Stamps is a farmer, soldier, motivational speaker, and future White House visitor who also is a Jackson city councilman. We talked about his unusually high level of commitment to city council meetings and what it cost him to become a councilman.

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Q: Something that’s different about Jackson city council meetings is that you bring in a piece of artwork to put behind you every meeting and then you recognize the artist. When did that start?

A: That was Councilman [Tyrone] Hendrix’s idea. And it’s a good idea to recognize the artist.

Q: What’s been your favorite piece?

A: The lady who had the bottle caps and the tiles that she had done some mosaic-type artwork…it was really nice. I like the art that actually means something–I don’t like the decorative kind of stuff.

Q: Yeah, I’m with you. You were a motivational speaker and you still have some videos on YouTube. This video is called “2 Keys to Success”:

That brings up the question: what did it cost you to become a city councilman?

A: Personally, I got pulled over by [Jackson police] and didn’t like the way I was treated. Getting no assistance, that started me down the road of, “if you’re not gonna help me, I need to get rid of you.” I knew it was gonna…financially, it definitely–city council only pays $300 a week. I was making $7,000 a speech, so–

Q: Yeah, that’s a tough call.

A: So it’s a little difference on the pay side. But the value in helping folks out, that’s way beyond any monetary kind of value. There’s definitely an emotional cost because your entire life is open to public scrutiny and ridicule.

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Jackson, MS Councilman De’Keither Stamps

Q: I have watched a few segments from your last couple of meetings. It seems to me that you in particular get frustrated that the city council is not doing 100 percent of its job.

A: Well, I mean…everyone has their differences of opinion of how things should go. And they’re entitled to them. We’ve made some structural changes. We used to meet every week. And I said, “this is an inefficient workflow. Why did we just come in here to vote for two items that could be on the other two weeks’ meetings?”

Q: How many council members stay to the end of the meetings?

A: [Pause] Um, I don’t keep track of it. I stay till most of the end of all them.

Q: Do council meetings matter more to you than to the other council members do you think?

A: Well, I have a different level of commitment. I live my life in a very different space. See, um, I’m willing to die for what I believe in. So the commitment level for me for the things I believe in is different.

Q: Big news for you: in a couple of days, you’re going to Washington, D.C. to be part of the presidential transition! Are you going to be taking down the portraits of George Washington and putting up pictures of his golf course?

A: Ha, no, we’ll be in a series of briefings to ensure several issues we’ve been working on don’t fall through the cracks.

Follow Councilman De’Keither Stamps on Twitter: @DeKeitherStamps

#65: Lawrenceburg, TN 11/10/16

Small-town charm was on full display at the Lawrenceburg city council meeting. From the Mayberry-like feeling in the room, you’d barely know that the country was in turmoil outside of city hall.

“We’ll be closed tomorrow for Veterans Day. The parade starts at 11 o’clock,” solemnly announced Mayor Keith Durham. “So guys, if you wanna ride with my dad, he’s got his truck ready to go.”

Wow, an official councilmobile! Crank up the bass and fasten on the truck nuts, boys! Oh, but bring a Snuggie, says Hizzoner:

“You’re welcome to ride with us in the back of the truck. It may be a little chilly. But we’ll have lawn chairs.”

It’s how Caligula would have traveled if his dad owned a truck.

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Seat belts not included

“Next, gentlemen: a resolution for the city of Lawrenceburg to reappoint Gary Hyde as the representative to the Regional Solid Waste Planning Board,” the council’s reader said.

The mayor scratched his nose and glanced at Hyde across the room. “Are you okay with that, Gary?”

“Yes, sir,” the man responded stiffly.

“We have appointed people without their permission, you know,” the mayor explained to chuckles.

Your Honor, feel free to appoint me to anything you want without my consent. Solid Waste…Liquid Waste…Human Waste…I would be proud to represent your city at the waste level.

“Next, gentlemen: a resolution to approve the purchase of a 2009 Chevrolet Silverado 1500 crew cab from Mike James for the use of Lawrenceburg Parks and Recreation Department. Purhase price is $10,500.”

Council Member Jamie Sevier stopped writing and looked up. “How’d this deal come up, Chris?”

Chris Shaffer, the city administrator, elaborated: “This was approved in the budget to replace the old black van that Parks and Recreation uses. Pam looked at this vehicle and felt it was a good deal.”

“I know Mike was asking $13.5, Pam?” Council Member Ronald Fox inquired.

“Yes, sir,” Pam called out.

“And they talked him down from $13.5 to $10.5 so I believe it’s a pretty good deal,” he nodded at Pam’s negotiating expertise. “It looked like a pretty good truck.”

Mayor Durham frowned. “Are you going to sell the ‘mystery machine’ as a result?”

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File photo of the Parks and Recreation director

The city administrator grinned. “We’re gonna try to.”

“Might save it for Halloween!” Council Member Fox quipped.

Or perhaps the next parade. I’m sure you could fit lawn chairs and four councilmen inside–and Papa Durham could use his truck bed for less fleshy cargo.

“All right. If you’re in favor of this, let me know by saying aye,” the mayor boomed. Everyone was an “aye.”

But Fox was already waxing nostalgic for the van. “Mayor, maybe they can paint this pickup black!”

Final thoughts: I give 10 out of 10 stars to Pam for knocking $3k off the asking price. She should be allowed to ride in the truck with you guys.

Interview #19: Orlando, FL Commissioner Regina Hill (with podcast)

This podcast interview is available on iTunes, Stitcher, Player FM and right here:

After watching an Orlando city council meeting, I sat down with Commissioner Regina Hill to find out just how wild things in Florida can get. It turns out, nothing rattles her. We talked about Harry Potter, alligators, and more sobering subjects.

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Q: If Orlando city council meetings were a ride at Disney World, what would they be?

A.) It’s a Small World

B.) Space Mountain

C.) the boring monorail that takes you around the parking lot

A: It’s most definitely not a “Small World” here at council. And it’s not a boring ride on the monorail. I think it would be Space Mountain, but it’s not a roller coaster. I would call it…adventurous.

Q: Adventurous? Maybe more like something in the Harry Potter theme park?

A: I’m sorry, but I haven’t gone to the theme park. From what I understand about Harry Potter, most of it is magic and illusions. It’s real what we do here.

Q: I once heard from another city council member that they did not ask what they considered “basic” or “stupid” questions in the council meetings because people might judge them. Do you feel the same way?

A: I think to not ask a question does a disservice to our constituents. I am very direct. I say what I mean and I mean what I say.

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Orlando, FL Commissioner Regina Hill

Q: During your campaign, it came out that you had been arrested as an adult. Do you think people treat you differently in the city council meetings because of that?

A: I mean, of course everyone has opinions. I’m very confident of who I am. I’m making some wrongs right. I try to remember that I am sitting here as someone who has been given this opportunity. I represent hope.

Q: You are in Florida. And the media is full of stories about Florida that are pretty wacky. What is the oddest thing that you have seen at a city council meeting?

A: I’ll tell you, when I’m sitting on the dais, I don’t look at any oddity. What I see is free speech. What might be strange to me is someone’s reality. I think it’s a beautiful thing when people can be themselves.

Q: I respect your respectfulness…but you’re telling me that if you were in the council chamber and an alligator walked in, THAT wouldn’t faze you at all?

A: What would faze me is: how did the security guards let an alligator get in the chambers?!

Q: [Laughs] That is such a good point!

A: Who was the gatekeeper? I wouldn’t be mad at the alligator!

Q: Commissioner, when do you think is the moment when you “made it?” Or do you feel like you have not made it yet?

A: I feel like I haven’t made it yet. But the night I was elected was–outside of becoming a nurse after getting my rights restored–one of the proudest moments that I can recall. Because it was almost like redemption. Even after people said I didn’t deserve an opportunity because of my past. I haven’t stopped working 60-70 hours a week since I’ve been elected. Even in the last year, I haven’t taken time off to grieve my daughter’s murder. It’s not easy being a public servant. But is it worth it? Absolutely.

Follow Commissioner Regina Hill on Twitter: @ReginaHillFL

#57: Gadsden, AL 10/4/16

Despite the best efforts of one joker, the Gadsden city council managed to get a thing or two done on Tuesday.

I knew there would be trouble in the chamber when Council President Deverick Williams had his questioning about a run-down property interrupted.

“Brian, there was some discussion about whether or not this was rehab-able. Is there something we’re not seeing with the pictures?”

The city’s chief building officer started to respond. “We looked at all of them and, based on the tax appraisal–”

All of a sudden a newscaster’s distant voice crackled through the room.

“HERE ARE THE FOUR THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT HURRICANE–”

Council Member Ben Reed leapt forward–or, more accurately, took his sweet time in reaching–to silence his cell phone.

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Well, I hope you brought enough to share with the rest of the council, mister.

President Williams froze. Then he turned back to the city employee. “I may need you to repeat that last part.”

The room broke down in laughter. “Sorry, it sounded like my voice changed there,” the man quipped in reply.

From here, the meeting segued nicely into a series of civic announcements.

“People think that First Friday ends in October, but let me stress to you: tell all your friends and your neighbors, we go until December,” the director of Downtown Gadsden pleaded to anyone within earshot. “We got the tractors this First Friday! Kings of Swing will be at Fourth and Broad. They’re always a big crowd favorite.”

But life in Gadsden isn’t all fun and games. Exhibit A: Mayor Sherman Guyton’s full-frontal attack on childhood lackadaisy:

“When kids get home, if they get past seven, eight years old and they can’t read and understand what they read, they start going downhill. They need to do a lot of homework and study when they get home. If they’re settin’ around the house, make ’em go to work.”

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“Homework? UGH, DAD, I HATE YOU.”

Then, at the end of the dais, it was Council Member Reed’s turn to speak. He brought up–what else–his outburst from earlier.

“I’m gonna apologize to the council and to the mayor for my phone going off,” he slowly drawled to chuckles. “But I’m gonna tell y’all–this is a fact–I put it on vibrate. I put it on mute. FYI, when you touch the Weather Channel, that baby’s comin’ on.” Yeah, likely story.

President Williams attempted to divert the council to a more serious matter. “October is also Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Wear as much pink as you got. Some of us got more pink in our closet than others–” he said casually, glancing at Council Member Billy Billingsley.

Council Member Reed, the white-haired class clown, immediately pounced. “I wanna know about the pink clothes in Billy’s closet!”

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“What color underwear ya got on? Twenty bucks says it’s as pink as a baby’s tush.”

After the snickers subsided, the council president patiently responded, “I didn’t say a word. I just looked that way.”

“Oh-kay,” Reed winked at the crowd.

Final thoughts: I give 10 out of 10 stars to Council Member Billy Billingsley. So what if the man has pink clothes? City councils could use more liberated males!

#51: Greer, SC 9/13/16

At the Greer city council meeting, did anyone raise a ruckus? Cause a concern? Threaten to secede?

Nope, nada,  none of it. This municipal powwow was so genteel as to be sleep-inducing. When you think “government meeting,” this was exactly the excitement level you’d imagine.

“An ordinance to provide for the annexation of property owned by Teresa Smith,” Mayor Rick Danner read from the dense agenda. His Honor, sporting a blue bow tie, glanced up to the zoning director–himself sporting a gray bow tie. (I’d bet anything that these two men had an a capella rehearsal after the meeting.)

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FINALLY, a touch of CLASS at a council meeting (I’m talking about the iPad).

“A year or so back, we were looking at about 300 single family attached units. Now, the 27 acres has been significantly reduced to 85 houses,” the director recited, flipping between the tablet in his hand and a sheaf of papers on the podium.

“By a show of hand,” the mayor raised his voice, “is the owner of the property with us this evening? Do you care to add anything?”

From somewhere in the audience came a holler: “He mentioned 85 single family. It’s actually 87.”

“Thank you,” the mayor nodded.

But wait, there’s more! More zoning! Seriously, it’s nothing but zoning. Normally, I’d fast-forward through this bad boy to get to the good stuff–liquor licenses, citizen complaints, wildlife problems.

Not today. There’s a land rush in Greer, apparently, and Ms. Medlock wants a piece of the zoning pie.

“Ms. Medlock is seeking to rezone to C2 to operate a used car lot on that property,” announced the zoning czar.

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This is a record for city council meeting bow ties.

The mayor repeated his catchphrase. “By a show of hand, is the owner of the property with us this evening? Would you like to add anything?”

Ms. Medlock called out no.

But the mayor wasn’t satisfied.

“The existing structure with the wall and the little office–will that remain?” he pondered.

“That for now is going to stay,” Ms. Medlock testified, reluctantly planting herself behind the podium. “The shed is nice for them to be able to pull cars into to work on in the shade.”

“Let me go back to Glenn for a second,” said the mayor as council members silently contemplated what time they would be free to leave. “Storage of vehicles and cars or whatever? That’s a grassy lawn there.”

Glenn, the zoner: “No vehicles parked on a residential zoned property. They can’t just cover the grass area back there with automobiles,” he assured the mayor.

Ms. Medlock decided to give Mayor Danner r a taste of his own medicine. “I have one question,” she sprung on him. “The tenant has already got a sign to fit on the post with anticipation that this is gonna be approved–”

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Truly an astounding  number of bow ties.

The mayor let out a gentle laugh. Uh-oh. Is His Honor going to torpedo the rezone and leave that poor sign post flapping in the breeze?

“–does he need to bring that to you?”

There was a moment of silent reflection.

“Needs to go through the permitting process,” was the answer.

Final thoughts: As far as council meetings go, I give this 3 out of 10. As far as bow ties go…I give it a perfect score.

Interview #11: Asheville, NC Mayor Esther Manheimer

Watching the Asheville city council meeting last month, I noticed the particularly steady guidance of Mayor Esther Manheimer. What was her deal? How does a first-term mayor run such smooth meetings?

In this interview, Her Honor told me about gaining confidence, her fascination with tribal customs, and when she ejected a troublemaker.

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Q: Before you were mayor, you were a regular council member. How are council meetings different now that you’re in charge?

A: You’re of more of a facilitator. You’re making sure everyone has their voice heard. You can’t just space out. If you’re a council member, you can choose to just not know any of that.

Q: When you were a council member, did you avoid knowing the rules?

A: No, no, no. I love all things Roberts Rules. Especially with my anthropology major as an undergrad–tribal customs.

Q: What’s the most well-run city council meeting you’ve seen besides, obviously, the ones you run?

A: As a lawyer, I have appeared before many county commissions and city council meetings. I like a well-run meeting where the chair keeps the questions focused. Sometimes you can watch it unfold in front of you and they’re veering off into territory that’s not even in front of them and the chair is not controlling that.

Q: When you were just a council member, how did the mayor run meetings compared to your style?

A: She did not corral the troops ahead of the meetings, so it was a little more chaotic. I try to make sure we’re prepared.

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Asheville, NC Mayor Esther Manheimer

Q: Your previous mayor was a city council member, then mayor. You were a city council member, now mayor. Do you ever look from side to side at a meeting and think, “which one of these people is coming for my job?”

A: Not DURING the meeting but…[laughs] I definitely wonder, are there other folks who want to become the next mayor of Asheville? And then I think, do I wanna run for mayor again?

Q: …

A: …

Q: …DO you wanna run for mayor again?

A: I don’t know. I have three young kids. Politician, mommy–plus I’m a full-time working lawyer.

Q: It’s hard to have it all. Speaking of the other council members, do they act differently in private than they do on camera?

A: Oh yeah. Very different. I have the newer council members that are learning more about getting their voice and saying their opinion loud and clear in public. That’s a process every newly-elected person has to go through. And it’s a little scary.

Q: It’s also scary during public comment when people are calling you liars and con artists. How do you decide when to say something and when to just sit there?

A: We have gotten to know who is going to be constantly disappointed with us no matter what. To respond every time almost elevates the comment. I don’t think when we’re being told we’re liars, to say, “oh, I’m not a liar” is helpful. I won’t respond in those situations. Now, if someone is providing incorrect information, I will clarify it. Because there might be three people watching and so–apparently you’re watching, too. So, four people.

Q: Darn right.

A: The first time I had to throw somebody out of the meeting, I had him removed because he was directing his comments at staff and not at us. He was staring at the staff and I warned him several times that’s not appropriate.

Follow Mayor Esther Manheimer on Twitter: @EstherManheimer

#46: Orlando, FL 8/29/16

From the home of Disney World comes a city council meeting so magical, so enchanting that it has its own glorious video intro:

“Ladies and gentlemen,” boomed the voiceover, “please welcome our mayor, Buddy Dyer!”

The stock footage abruptly faded to the council chambers, where one sole attendee applauded on cue.

“Whoever had that one clap, I appreciate that,” the mayor lightheartedly quipped as the room roared with laughter.

“Welcome to the January 29, 2016 meeting of the Orlando City Council,” announced His Honor, his brains apparently scrambled from too many rides on Splash Mountain. “We give our commissioners the opportunity to update you on items from their commission district.”

But by the time Commissioner Samuel Ings finished his slideshow of the Sixth Annual Red Tie Celebrity Golf Extravaganza, the mayor had a mea culpa:

“The city clerk let me know that when I called the meeting to order, I said it was the January…or December?”

“January,” the clerk corrected–again.

“Some month other than August,” Mayor Dyer admitted to chuckles. “Hopefully most of you are aware that it is August.”

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“If you’re not aware that it’s August in Orlando, look at a thermometer.”

If you’re having trouble forgiving the mayor for his brain fart, Commissioner Robert Stuart had some words for you.

“Back in April we were listed as the second or third most compassionate city in the country,” he said, introducing his resolution to make Orlando an official “compassionate city”–which is like a regular city, except Commissioner Stuart will kiss your boo-boo, I guess.

The mayor glanced sideways. “Amy, our city clerk, was commenting to me that she didn’t think she was getting enough TV time. So I thought I would let her read the resolution.”

Without missing a beat, she retorted, “You just know I can do it faster than you.” Ladies and germs, the Mayor and Clerk Variety Hour will be here all night!

But not so fast: on deck was a new fee to expand Orlando’s non-cartoon-themed parks. “We’re proposing to collect in three zones,” explained a bespectacled city staffer. “The funds raised in each of those three zones must be utilized in those three zones.”

That didn’t wash with Commissioner Regina Hill, whose zone had lots of low-income housing that wouldn’t pay.

“There’s gonna be no monies generated in that area for improvements in my parks!” she exclaimed, whipping off her glasses. “Especially Lake Lorna Doone, which has needed $4 million!”

The parks director raced to the mic. “Lake Lorna Doone is in the north zone. So all of the revenues generated in the north zone have to be spent in the north zone–”

“But the new residential that will be built…will NOT generate fees,” fired back Hill exasperatedly.

“In the north district, I think the ten-year revenue was about $6 million,” the staffer tried to assuage her.

Hill was apoplectic. “I gotta wait ten years?!”

“Well…over ten years. Yeah,” the staffer meekly responded.

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Commissioner Hill is in full stink-eye mode

At this point, the city attorney stepped into the fracas.

“The reason Lake Lorna Doone was not included in the definition of a regional park is because of its size,” he explained.

“It’s a ‘regional park’ to those that live in that area!” the commissioner mic-dropped.

Final thoughts: Yikes. Looks like a few people didn’t get the message that Orlando is a compassionate city now. I give 8 out of 10 stars to Commissioner Hill. Fight on!