Tag: local

Shout-out #2: Hampton, VA

Way back in July, the mayor of London, Ohio mentioned City Council Chronicles at an actual city council meeting, calling it “pretty interesting.” That was one of the proudest moments in my life as a journalist–second only to the moment when I started calling myself a journalist.

I then named London a “Friend of the Chronicles” and encouraged everyone to visit such attractions as Los Mariachis restaurant and the Rib and Jazz Fest.

Well, imagine my surprise when, during the final 30 seconds of last week’s Hampton, Virginia city council meeting, I watched Mayor Donnie Tuck say this:

Mayor: There’s one last mention I’d like to make–and I apologize for missing this earlier–and that is of a young man who visited Hampton earlier this week. His name is Michael Karlik of the councilchronicles.com. And he was visiting Hampton and learning more about our city council meeting’s work–how they work. And I understand he’s watching us online tonight during our live stream and so welcome, Michael.

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Well, knock me down with a dandelion! Out of ALL of the websites out there dedicated to reviewing city council meetings, the mayor chose to mention ours!

I wish I had something to give His Honor in return. Unfortunately, all of my gold medals are tied down in Rio, so what I have left in the warehouse is this priceless mug:

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With this shout-out, I am officially naming Hampton, Virginia a “Friend of the Chronicles,” which gives them the right to take the lunch money of any smaller, nerdier city. Also, I would encourage readers that the next time you visit Hampton, find Mayor Tuck and buy him a pint at the local St. George Brewing Company. And after you get nice and buzzed on Imperial Stout, remember to stand up on a bar stool and scream at the top of your lungs, “YOU’VE BEEN CHRONICLED!”

P.S. Check back on Monday to see how this shout-out came to be!

#42: Hampton, VA 8/10/16

Major–MAJOR–bombshell at the Hampton city council meeting.

“Before we begin, I’d like to deviate from our normal agenda,” Mayor Donnie Tuck abruptly announced. “Vice Mayor, would you please read?”

“A motion to deviate from the order of business to evaluate the benefits of moving the public comment,” read Vice Mayor Linda Curtis from her notes.

Move the public comment? To where, North Carolina?! Please explain, Your Honor!

“We’ve looked at how we’ve done our public comment section in the past. There’s been a time when it was before the meeting started, then it was moved to the end of the meeting.” The mayor folded his hands.

“What we’ve decided to do was to move it to a point in our meeting where we have our public hearings–following THAT we will have public comments.”

This is madness. Insanity. I’ve never felt more scared…AND MORE ALIVE.

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Mayor Tuck is SO BUZZED from moving the public comment.

Now the fun part: “Would the representatives of the Bay River Rumble 12-and-Under Grey Softball Team please come forward?” the mayor asked as the young athletes marched down the aisle.

“These ladies recently returned from Buffalo, where they won the NSA World Series Championship for girls fast-pitch softball.” He grinned from ear to ear. “We have some backpacks for you.”

After passing out the souvenirs, the mayor again broke into a smile so contagious that Olympic athletes aren’t allowed near it. “I hope my fellow council members will pardon my exuberance but I invited another group to come down”–a summer camp for English language learners.

“We had a wonderful time,” the camp’s director told the council, surrounded by her campers. “Mayor Tuck, I just want to thank you again for inviting us–” she looked to the dais, but His Honor was already sneaking up behind her. “Here you are!” she laughed as he ambushed them with more gift bags.

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Watch out! He’s behind you! BEHIND YOU!

Finally, time for high-risk, high-reward: public comment…IN THE MIDDLE.

Guinea pig #1 was an older man who slid on his glasses and opened a red folder. “I wanna congratulate Mayor Tuck on his sex–successful election,” the commenter complimented the new mayor–and the mayor’s wife, apparently.

He took aim at, surprisingly, the public comment period itself. “I feel speakers should be heard at the beginning of the meeting. Also, they should be allowed five minutes to speak because at times you have got more to say and three minutes is not enough.” Ironically, this was not one of those times–he finished in well under three minutes.

Next up was a beefy guy who skipped congratulating the mayor for his sex and went for the jugular. “I’m in agreement with the public comments back to the beginning and I’ll tell you why. You got families with kids, you got elderly people, and you have handicapped people. To put them through two or three hours to save them for the end is just wrong. It’s ‘we the people,’ not ‘we the Hampton city council.'”

(It’s true. I’ve read the Constitution and nowhere does it mention the Hampton city council.)

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“Peekaboo.”

This Sage of Southeast Virginia left the council with a final deep thought: “the bricks out front, you need to regrout ’em.”

Final thoughts: I give 10 out of 10 stars to anybody who pays attention to the grout at their city hall.

#41: Asheville, NC 8/9/16

Anger.

Suspense.

Hemp?

These words barely scratch the surface of the cauldron of civic engagement that was the Asheville city council meeting.

It was a big day, with bonds galore! Transportation bond! Housing bond! Parks and rec bond! But first, the council needed a public hearing. Let’s roll the dice and see what the Good People have to say.

“I rise to state that there is an inconvenient truth about this so-called ‘public hearing,'” a man in a dapper white suit read from his notes. (Whenever someone labels something “so-called,” you know you’re in for a treat.)

“All this, I believe, is merely window dressing on the city council to foist a poorly-planned, unnecessary, pie-in-the-sky, $110 million financial burden upon the city,” he drawled, before socking Asheville’s bureaucrats right in the kisser. “This can become a slush fund to use as they please.”

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For someone who’s against spending money, that’s an awfully fancy pocket square.

He shuffled back to his seat. “Is there anyone else wishing to speak?” Mayor Esther Manheimer asked warily. No one in the crowded room hopped up.

“You all do know that we’re just doing bonds pretty much tonight?” she laughed nervously.

It was do-or-die time. Put-up-or-shut-up time. The vote: all three bonds passed. Easily. Like, really easily.

“Congratulations, we did our first bond package,” announced the mayor with the best poker face this side of Vegas.

Councilwoman Julie Mayfield briefly golf-clapped. “Are we allowed to clap?” she inquired after no one followed suit.

“We can look enthusiastic,” the mayor responded.

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The mayor is at peak enthusiasm.

Vice Mayor Gwen Wisler then kicked off what must have been an uncomfortable moment for three particular Ashevillians.  “We interviewed three candidates for the Sustainability Advisory Committee on Energy and the Environment just before the city council meeting.”

She whipped out a pen. “Each council member, tell me who you vote for.”

Oh, wow. This is happening now. In public.

Councilman Keith Young jumped in without hesitation. “I’m going with Emily” Boyd.

Councilwoman Mayfield agonized over her options. “These are all great candidates….It’s amazing….Tough choice.” She paused. “I am gonna go with Bridget” Herring.

“I’m gonna vote for Brad” Rouse, retorted Councilman Cecil Bothwell.

A three-way tie. What a nail-biter. I can’t watch!

“Bridget Herring,” Her Honor the mayor said without comment.

“Bridget Herring,” the vice mayor and Councilman Gordon Smith dittoed. It was a lock.

“I counted Bridget Herring,” triumphantly declared Vice Mayor Wisler. “We’ll get ahold of the candidates tomorrow and tell them.”

Uh…no offense Madam Vice Mayor, but you do realize you’re on TV, right?

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Vice Mayor: If only there were some way for people to know what’s happening at the city council…

As the meeting drew to a close, the mayor opened up public comment. And the public included a bearded man wearing shorts who talked about, well, what you would expect a bearded man in shorts to talk about.

“Hemp X Asheville is happening,” he grinned. “I hope a few or many of y’all can make it, and certainly those watching on TV as well.”

Sorry, bud. I’ll be busy watching city council meetings.

Final thoughts: I give 10 out of 10 stars to runners-up Emily Boyd and Brad Rouse, who came so close to getting the job but got, arguably, something better: a shout-out on City Council Chronicles.

Interview #9: Paducah, KY Reporter Lauren Duncan

Grab your banjo and hop a freight train with me down to Paducah, Kentucky. Home to Dippin’ Dots, the Paducah International Raceway, and the National Quilt Museum, y’all best mosey on over to city hall, where every Tuesday night Paducah Sun reporter Lauren Duncan watches the city commission meetings.

She talked to me about how everyone always gets along…or do they?

—

Q: How long have you been covering the city commission?

A: I have been here just two years–and today is my last day.

Q: Oh, no way!

A: I’ve got a city commission meeting tonight and [then] I’ve got a job in Chicago.

Q: Do you think the commissioners are planning a surprise party for you?

A: I don’t, but they have all been very kind to me. Paducah is a pretty small town–I run into them out and about.

Q: When you see them outside of council meetings, is it like when you were in school and you would see your teacher in the grocery store and it would feel super weird?

A: Haha, I get what you’re saying. One of our commissioners, he owns a coffee shop in town and so he is just one of your popular neighborhood guys. But he’s also the commissioner who get the most votes every year. He’s one of those people where if I weren’t a reporter, I’d probably be friends with him, you know?

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Paducah, KY city council reporter Lauren Duncan

A: This town is just like a PBS special. Our city commissioner who owns the coffee shop…we’ve got a train down by our river, and they were going to get rid of it because it was falling apart. He went out and painted it all up himself. He spent, like, a month with his wide-brimmed hat out there on top of the train.

Q: So I’m assuming everyone is pretty friendly during city commission meetings?

A: There has not been a single shouting match between the commissioners or the mayor or the city manager. That is mind boggling to me.

Q: It sounds like the “Stepford Wives”–everyone is happy and cookie cutter.

A: A lot of stuff happens behind closed doors. All of our meetings are live broadcast and I think there’s sort of a fear to have frank discussions.

Q: Is that a southern thing? A small city thing?

A: That’s something I’ve never seen before. I think it’s literally just the fact that they’re being televised and they’re nervous about public perception of having a heated debate that people can see.

Q: Suppose you and your best friend sign up for a cooking class, but she gets sick and has to cancel. Which commissioner would you invite to do the cooking class with you?

A: You’re basically asking who’s my favorite!

Q: Sure. Or who makes a great casserole.

A: That’s easy because he’s one of the most personable guys in town: it’s Allan Rhodes, the commissioner who owns the coffee shop and paints the trains.

Q: All around good guy. Regular Mr. Rogers.

A: He was the first guy I talked to here. I was looking for a place to live. Someone said, “talk to Allan Rhodes.” And he gave me all kinds of advice for moving here!

Q: Well, I hope there’s another Allan Rhodes waiting for you in Chicago.

Follow Lauren Duncan on Twitter: @LaurenPDuncan

Mark Your Calendar: National #CityHallSelfie Day

Attention Chronicleheads! Next Monday, August 15, is the holiest of high holy holidays: National #CityHallSelfie Day! The concept is simple: 1.) take a selfie at your city hall 2.) win prize.

From the event page:

The first annual National #CityHallSelfie Day is taking place on Monday, August 15. Our goal is to break the record for city hall selfies taken in one day. What’s the record? We’re not quite sure but we’ve pegged it at around nine.

You can participate in this new holiday by posting your #cityhallselfie on Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, or Twitter. If you not a fan of social media, send your #cityhallselfie via email.

Prizes will be awarded all day. Everyone who participates will receive an ELGL coozie. You’ll also have a chance to win a selfie stick, Treat Yo Self mug, Pawnee ringer t-shirt, Indiana names t-shirt, and RIP Harambe t-shirt.

As a bonus, City Council Chronicles is upping the ante. If you take a selfie WITH a city council member OR INSIDE OF a city council room, your picture will be posted here! So get out there and ambush somebody!

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July in Review

Maybe you didn’t catch every chronicle this month. That’s okay (even though you are dead to me): you can always read our July Recap for the highlights!

#40: Lindsborg, KS 8/1/16

Wow, holy Wizard of Oz! What a humdinger of a–

Okay. I can’t do this.

I’ll level with you: if the Zapruder film and that grainy footage of Bigfoot had a lovechild, it would be Lindsborg’s city council video.

A low-res camera? Solution: put it unnecessarily far away.

The microphones barely work? Solution: talk quietly.

Most places videotape their city council meetings so the Good People can see what’s going on. Other places videotape their meetings because they FEEL like they HAVE to. News flash: if no one can understand who’s there and what they’re saying, it’s not a public service. It’s a waste of time.

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Grrr

Ranting aside, this council meeting was odd to watch because of the steady stream of solicitors offering very good, limited-time, get-a-free-t-shirt promotions.

“I just wanted to talk to you about Liberty National,” one woman ambushed the council, whipping out a stack of pamphlets. “Basically, we would just come in to see your employees–wouldn’t take long. We give everyone a $3,000 life insurance policy for themselves.”

And the deals don’t stop there! “A little more popular is our ‘cancer endurance’ policy. It has no lifetime maximum. Covers tons of things. But where it really shines is when they take chemo radiation and blood transfusions.”

With that, she promptly tossed some pamphlets on the table, grabbed her bag from the front row, and high-tailed it out the door–no doubt rushing to give the same speech to a zoning board in Wichita.

But wait, there’s more! You, the fancily dressed man. What wares have you to peddle?

“I’m with George K. Baum and Company. About a month ago we were analyzing some of the city’s debt and we found an opportunity to refund the series A 2009 [bonds]. We think we can refund those with bonds ranging from 2-3%. This is a good opportunity!”

Sign me up, boss! Give me a timeshare and some of Doctor Houlihan’s Miracle Cure-All while you’re at it.

Speaking of good opportunities, the staff at the Convention and Visitors Bureau was ready to pounce on the hottest new craze. “I’m totally clueless about this, but Pokémon GO is a big deal everywhere,” the mild mannered director explained. “Right now, I guess Lindsborg is very populated with critters to pick up, and points, and whatnot.” Her confidence was truly inspiring. The middle-aged council members stared back blankly.

“At what…2:30 in the morning? There were people out,” catching Pokémon, she marveled.

“Because there are different…Pokémon ghosts [sic],” helpfully added Councilwoman Betty Nelson.

Mayor Bill Taylor sighed. “I don’t know. I told my kids nothing good happens after midnight!” The whole room nodded and laughed in approval. You hear that, Pokémon ghosts? You stay away from those Taylor kids!

Final thoughts: Lindsborg, you seem nice. Let’s talk again when you get a new AV system, k?

The Chronicles gets an award nomination!

I’m super stoked to report that our friends at Engaging Local Government Leaders (elgl.org) nominated City Council Chronicles for the “Top 100 Local Government Influencers” list–a.k.a. the “Chris Traeger” award.

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We’re changing the world, baby! Personally, I  was angling for the Presidential Medal of Freedom, but this is an acceptable substitute. Now that we’re an official Local Government Influencer, call up your city council member and tell them they have no excuse not to get chronicled!

#39: West Valley City, UT 7/26/16

Maybe it was the summer heat or the moon in the Seventh House, but the 6:30 p.m. West Valley City council meeting felt more like an 8 a.m. college seminar: sleepy. The hypnotic monotone of Mayor Ron Bigelow certainly didn’t help.

“We turn to Councilmember Steve Vincent for our opening ceremony,” he murmured. “Opening ceremony” eh? Like the Olympics? By all means, bring out the drumline! Commence the light show! Sprint down the aisle with a flaming torch!

“I was trying to find something that I could present for Pioneer Day,” the councilmember teased us. “On my dad’s side of our family, when they came to New York, they didn’t have enough money to come west. So [my grandfather] laid telegraph line across the Plains to get to Utah.” (I’m getting the feeling that calling this an “opening ceremony” was a slight exaggeration.)

“He’d write stories about how they’d lay a few hundred yards of telegraph line and then the next morning they would have to redo it because they’d been torn down by Indians. Anyway, I think we all need to reflect on our pioneer heritage.”

Ah yes, what would an opening ceremony be without a little Indian sabotage?

Mayor Bigelow stared at his notes. “Was there anyone here who wanted to make public comments?” Pause. “Apparently not. A lot of comments, just not public,” he deadpanned.

“To our council, any comments tonight?” Crickets. “Nothing you wanna bring up? Oh-kay.” Imagine if Eeyore chugged a bottle of Nyquil and you’ve got Mayor Bigelow.

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“Does the cat who’s got your tongues wish to speak?”

Because everyone was so tight-lipped, the council sailed through the rest of the meeting as fast as the mayor could talk.

“We go to item 8–this is for the purchase of a data backup system. We have a lot of data we have to store. In fact, you can go out and listen to any of our council meetings.”

Well, I’ll be damned. Something I can get behind! Back up those council meetings, baby!

Next item: “We need to do it tonight,” warned the mayor about the “asphalt polymer treatment project.”

“It’s a polymer mastic seal to prevent oxidation of the asphalt oil from the water infiltration and ultraviolet exposure,” he explained in an impressive display of vocabulary. “In other words, so it doesn’t break up from the water and the sun, I guess is the way you would put that.” Actually, the way I would put that is “rubbing some lotion on the road,” but I’m a dummy.

With the road massaged and the data safe and sound, the council adjourned.

Final thoughts: For doing all the heavy lifting, I give 10 out of 10 stars to Councilmember Vincent’s telegraph-laying grandfather. Bravo, sir.