#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 #25: Former Honolulu, HI Councilman Charles Djou (with podcast)

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

Charles Djou has done it all–Hawaii state legislature, U.S. Congressman, and most importantly, Honolulu city councilman. He got me up to speed on some city council traditions and local island lingo, plus the time a native chief put a curse on the council! Definitely listen to the podcast because there is so much more stuff in there than you’ll read below.

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Q: Something I’m curious about is the dress code for the city council meetings. Is it suits and ties or Hawaiian shirts and leis?

A: Yes, so some of the things that are different about the Honolulu city council: the FULL council is in coat and tie. But our committee hearings are done in aloha shirts–

Q: They’re called “aloha” shirts, there? Not Hawaiian shirts?

A: Yes. The other thing that is perhaps a little different is the first city council meeting of the year after an election, everybody wears leis. And everybody gets leis.

Q: What is the lei protocol in Hawaii? Is there any occasion where it’s inappropriate to wear a lei?

A: You know…I wouldn’t say there’s any time where it’s not appropriate. It is relatively common to see people wear a lei if it’s your birthday, if it’s something significant, if you–

Q: Are you wearing a lei now?

A: I am not.

Q: OH, THIS ISN’T SIGNIFICANT FOR YOU?!

A: [Laughs]

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Former Honolulu, HI Councilman Charles Djou

Q: Any interesting moments you can remember from the Honolulu city council meetings?

A: By tradition, usually the very first city council meeting, we’ll open it with an oli, which is a native Hawaiian chant and prayer. I imagine maybe some of the city councils in, like, South Dakota or Oklahoma with large Native American populations maybe have some similar tradition.

Q: You’re probably right about tribal involvement. But prayer, especially in the South, is common for kicking off council meetings. When you say “chant,” I think of something rhythmic, like BUM-bum-bum-bum BUM-bum-bum-bum.

A: Yes. It’s in the native Hawaiian language. And then frequently accompanied with hula.

Q: Hula! Does that mean you have bikini-clad women in the council chamber?

A: Uhhhhhh, no. The whole bikini-clad women thing is sort of a 1950s/1960s image people have.

Q: Mmm.

A: I’ll share with you one interesting story. This occurred right before I became a member of the city council. The city council had a relatively controversial issue about condemnation of some native Hawaiian land. I remember a native Hawaiian kapuna (tribal elder) came in and put a curse on the city council members who voted against it.

Q: Wow, a curse! Did you feel worse voting no when there were eight other people you were working with on the council, compared to the state house with 50 other people?

A: No–if anything, on the city council I felt I had a greater voice in being able to dissent.

Q: Now, the listeners will revolt if I don’t ask this: between the Hawaii state house, the U.S. House, and the Honolulu city council, which had the nicest chairs?

A: Oh, the U.S. Congress! [Laughs] They have the nice comfy leather chairs over in Congress.

Follow Charles Djou on Twitter: @Djou4Hawaii

#71: Beloit, WI 12/5/16

Okay, I have to admit something: I had a hard time focusing on the Beloit city council meeting. It’s not because it was boring (it wasn’t). It’s not because I was under the influence of alcohol (I was).

It’s because all I could think about…was the wall.

The brick wall. AROUND the city council.

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Is this to keep the Big Bad Wolf out of council meetings?

Is it art? Is it a metaphor? Or is it a way of saying, “the only way you’re gonna ‘stick it’ to City Hall is with a bulldozer?”

Regardless, the city council had four more walls to worry about: a proposed “indoor entertainment venue.” To approve or not approve was the question.

“We were contacted by five neighboring property owners who are opposed due to concerns about traffic, parking, noise, and loitering,” a bespectacled city staffer informed the stern-looking councilors.

“The planning commission reviewed this and voted 6-0 to recommend denial.” She nodded to the building owner sitting alone in the audience. “I don’t think he’s trying to negatively impact the neighborhood.”

The man cautiously approached the wall. He was wearing a Carolina Tarheels fleece under a puffy jacket. “My name is Mario. I’m the owner. I’m trying, you know, to do that thing. Whatever that thing…” he stuttered with a heavy accent.

“My English is broken so hopefully you understand me,” he apologized. “If you guys say no, throw away that idea then continue. So technically you’re the boss.”

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Do it! Scale the wall!

But Councilor Sheila De Forest looked intensely grief-stricken. “I want to make sure that you were understood at the planing commission. Did you have a translator there at the meeting for him?”

The staffer slid next to Mario at the podium. “He didn’t ask for one. I didn’t know he needed one.”

“Did we OFFER him one, though?” De Forest pressed angrily.

“I…don’t know,” sighed the employee.

Councilor De Forest was livid. “I guess I’m not comfortable proceeding until we offer him a translator,” she demanded.

City Manager Lori Curtis Luther jumped into the fray. “I just want to make a cautionary note that we shouldn’t ASSUME what someone does or does not want,” she attempted to out-sensitize De Forest’s sensitivity. “I don’t want to imply that we think you NEED a translator. I think that can be insulting to some.”

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Some might say a fortressed city council is a tad insulting.

Riding in to the rescue was the third Good Samaritan, Councilor Marilyn Sloniker. “Would you like ME to ask him in Spanish if he understands what’s going on?”

Council President David Luebke quickly tried to sort out the ethical dilemma roiling the council. “I think…I think that’s…we’re pushing it too far. I don’t want to insult anybody’s intelligence.”

“I understand,” shrugged Sloniker. It’s no small irony that the council who erected a wall around themselves was worried about how to be properly inclusive.

However, when it came to Luebke’s fellow councilors, the gloves were off.

“The Holidazzle was fantastic. I happened to go in where you work, Mark,” he slyly grinned, referring to Councilor Mark Preuschl’s candy shop.

“They had samples up there, but for every one he gave out, he ate a piece too!” Everyone had a much-needed and de-stressing laugh.

No translation needed there!

Special Feature! “Best Thing, Worst Thing”

What’s this? Another installment of the semi-regular “Best Thing, Worst Thing” podcast series? Why, I do believe it is! For an explanation of the project, check out the page here. If you like storytelling and municipal lore, I think you’ll enjoy what the cat dragged in.

If you’ve got the kids already gathered around the fireplace, head over to the City Council Chronicles podcast and download the latest episode. Or you can play it below.

Episode 2: Cheyenne, Wyoming

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Photo source: Greater Cheyenne Chamber of Commerce

Cheyenne is the capital of Wyoming, population 63,000. It is located in the southeast corner of the state just eight miles from the Colorado border. It exists thanks to the builders of the Transcontinental Railroad. Downtown is fairly compact, with the capitol building at the north end and the historic train station at the south. Government buildings are prevalent and some of the historic homes are quite nice. Although it is the largest city in Wyoming, the population has risen slowly and steadily. In this episode, we hear from a business owner, a firearms instructor, two Chamber of Commerce employees, and a former mayoral candidate.

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

#70: Lisbon, IA 11/28/16

Don’t be fooled. Lisbon’s population may be just 2,200 people–but its December calendar is packed tighter than a Tokyo subway car at rush hour.

“Holiday Jubilee proclamation,” Mayor Beryl O’Connor adjusted her eyeglasses and read the sweeping decree. “Whereas holiday celebration is an effective tool for fostering local pride and maintaining community character, I, Mayor of Lisbon, proclaim December 10, 2016 ‘Lisbon’s Holiday Jubilee’ and call upon the people of Lisbon to join their fellow citizens in participating in this special occasion.”

Harken, Lisbonites! Your leader calls upon you to spread cheerfulness maximus! (What exactly does that entail?)

“We’ll be having activities during the day starting out with breakfast with Mrs. Claus,” city administrator Connie Meier explained. “The parade lineup will start at four. This year we changed the theme to ‘Parade with Your Pets.’ So you can dress your pets up in Christmas sweaters and walk them in the parade.”

With this news, my heart grew three sizes. Granted, this is Iowa, so I imagine there will be several cows in festive XXL upperwear.

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Pictured: Director of the Lisbon Chamber of Commerce

“Next month is kind of a busy month,” warned the city administrator. “Lisbon Schools is having all of their concerts on Monday night. December 12 would be our next regular council meeting–there is an elementary K-3rd [concert] at 6:00 and [grades] 4-6 at 7:15. On December 19th, there’s also the high school band and choir concerts.”

Uh-oh. Is it time to take the missiles to DEFCON-2, Your Honor?

“Is your daughter in band or anything?” the mayor muttered to Council Member Nathan Smith.

“The 19th is out for me,” he winced. “And she’s in basketball, so Tuesday nights tend to be interrupted too.”

Thankfully, the crisis was defused: they agreed to double up the meetings on December 5.

“What’s wrong with the lights?” Mayor O’Connor spontaneously blurted out. “One side of the street comes on and five minutes later the other side of the street comes on!”

“It’s where the photo eyes are placed–” the public works director started to answer.

“I have no idea what that means,” the mayor stared blankly.

The director patiently explained this complex marvel of modern engineering. “The photo eyes are detecting the sunlight. When the sun’s coming across, it will still be shining on one photo eye and there will be enough shade on the other one that it’ll keep ’em on.”

“It’s called photo eye?” she cautiously inquired. “If I tell somebody that, they’ll think I know what I’m talking about?”

The public works director humored her. “Yep.”

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This picture was taken with a photo eye

While he had the floor, there was something else he needed to get off his chest for the good of the city:

“This it the second time in twelve months we’ve had problems with our spiral screen” at the wastewater plant. (Mayor, if you say “spiral screen” people will NOT know what you’re talking about.)

“I know everybody’s reading these wrappers, and their sanitary wipes and wet wipes are saying they can be flushed. Please, [I’m] asking people not to flush.”

He exhaled. “So yeah, that’s my little soapbox speech.”

Final thoughts: Stop flushing the wet wipes! Geez.

#69: Laurel, MD 11/28/16

It’s the holiday season, so you know what that means: the eggnog is flowing, the mistletoe is hanging, and city council members are bragging about how THEIR winter festivities are the best thing since sliced gingerbread.

“I’d like to welcome everyone back from the Thanksgiving holiday. I hope it was a healthy one,” Councilmember Frederick Smalls warmly greeted the room. “I will say, however, that I did try a new recipe. It’s Brussels sprouts with Gruyère cheese.”

He added a lackluster, “Mmmm,” as he glanced sideways down the dais.

Councilmember Donna Crary picked up on the signal.

“I will disagree,” she pursed her lips, “with Mr. Smalls. That Brussels sprouts recipe was given to me at the same time. It’s not healthy.” Councilmember Smalls loudly guffawed as the sign language interpreter mimed laughter.

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“Do you know what’s healthy? That weak-ass tea you’re serving.”

But enough about Thanksgiving. It’s almost Christmas! Your Honor, when will we all get to meet Santa?!

“On December the 10th at 9 a.m. sharp, Partnership Hall will be holding the Breakfast with Santa,” Mayor Craig Moe read from his notes in a non-festive monotone. “Any tickets left?”

“Sold out!” someone yelled from the audience.

Mayor Moe looked into the camera–right into my disappointed eye holes. “Cancel that. We’re sold out.”

Whatever. I’m not disappointed. I’m not crying. These tears are just me being allergic to PEOPLE WHO GET MY HOPES UP.

“The holiday decorating contest will take place as well,” the mayor tried to reassure me. “If you’d like to nominate somebody or yourself, you can dial 301-725-7800. Or you can let my office know. We encourage you to get your decorations up and submit your nominations.”

Hey, mayor: stay in your lane. Laurelites, if YOU have a nomination for best holiday decoration, send it to City Council Chronicles. I’LL be the arbiter of taste around here.

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This is my nomination for deadliest stare.

That wraps up the yuletide news: it was time to do the People’s Business. “Ordinance number 1894,” announced Council President Michael Leszcz. “An ordinance amending the Laurel city code Chapter 17, ‘Traffic,’ Article III: ‘Stopping, standing, and parking.'”

He looked to either side. “Any discussion?” Nope. “Call the roll.”

As the clerk went down the list, something bizarre unfolded. Mayor Moe leaned back in his chair and caught the eye of Councilmember H. Edward Ricks at the far end of the dais.

NO. VOTE NO, mouthed the mayor.

All of the other council members were glancing at their papers, completely unaware of this not-so-secret communication.

“Mr. Ricks?” the clerk called out.

Ricks gave a pause. “Yes,” he slowly said, sounding beleaguered.

The mayor stared daggers at Ricks.

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How is she going to translate this?

“Mayor Moe?” the clerk said.

He did not respond. Council Member Ricks stonily eyeballed the mayor. The pause was so pregnant, some of the other council members stopped shuffling their papers and glanced at Moe.

“Concur,” muttered the mayor at last.

“That concludes the normal agenda,” President Leszcz continued, blissfully clueless about what transpired.

At this point, His Honor broke into a grin and chuckled. I have no idea if this was a playful joke or if the mayor was genuinely pissed. He’s a more wily character than I gave him credit for.

All I know is this: Santa better watch his back in Laurel.

Interview #23: City Council Presenter Ashly Perez de Tejada (with podcast)

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

Ashly Perez de Tejada is a survey specialist with the National Research Center. But, in a twist, her job is to present the survey research to city councils at their meetings. How fun! We talk about the time she was challenged by a council member and find out which city had the nicest council members.

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Q: What is your relationship to city council meetings?

A: I go to city council meetings to present findings from our citizen surveys.

Q: So if you’re not doing political polling, what kinds of things are you asking?

A: We ask various questions about people’s quality of life and certain things they enjoy or dislike about their community.

Q: Do you ever sit there in the meetings watching other people present and you think, “oh, my god…these guys are tanking! How are we supposed to follow this?”

A: [Laughs] Thankfully we’ve gotten really lucky in that a lot of our presentations are done towards the beginning. But of those we’ve had to see, I would say that we just are empathetic to the situation because I know that city council meetings can be hours and hours long. So everybody else who has to present has to go through the same challenges with respect to keeping their attention, really getting their point across, but getting the heck out of there.

Q: When you’re presenting to the city council, have you ever gotten a question to the effect of, “wait, we paid money for this?”

A: Some people are surprised when we are up there. I won’t tell you the community name, but just about everybody was on board on the city council except for one person. He basically stated that the survey was useless because he was elected and, therefore, just by process of being elected, he knew what the constituency wanted.

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Survey researcher Ashly Perez de Tejada

Q: Because you’ve sat through other parts of city council meetings, has there been anything you’ve seen that’s been enjoyable to you?

A: I think it’s just interesting when they have a lot of public comment. Initially, before working this job, I had very little understanding of what city councils actually did. I have to say that surveying is the best way to get at the entire community’s opinion and not just those that go to every single council meeting and have an opinion about every single thing on the agenda.

Q: Who do you think had the nicest city council chamber?

A: I really enjoyed going to Aurora’s [Colorado] city council. They have a really cool communication area–and it’s just for every time they want to create a commercial–and they have a really nice setup. It wasn’t so intimidating because you didn’t have to stand below everybody.

Q: Nice, nice. In what city were the council members the friendliest?

A: I would probably say Cedar Rapids.

Q: Okay, Iowa.

A: I flew out there a few months ago and everybody was very welcoming and they wanted to talk to me after the fact not just about the survey results, but just to find out how things were going and actually asked me about personal stuff.

Q: Okay, there you have it. Cedar Rapids, Iowa, coming in as a dark horse for the friendliest city council members in America!

Follow Ashly Perez de Tejada on Twitter: @barlau

Month in Review: October 2016

It’s the day after Thanksgiving, so you know what that means: time for leftovers! For us, that means looking back at everything that was chronicled in October. Take a read–and a listen–of the highlights from Spooktober.

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