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.
It’s a new year, so we have a new installment of the “Best Thing, Worst Thing” project. Wow, another episode AND Betty White is still alive?! This year isn’t so bad after all! For an explanation of the project, check out the page here. If you like storytelling and municipal lore, consider this your birthday present.
If you’ve got the kids in bed and the bottle of gin opened, head over to the City Council Chronicles podcast and download the latest episode. Or you can play it below.
Episode 3: Rockville, Maryland
Photo source: City of Raymore
Rockville is 16 miles northwest of Washington, D.C. in Montgomery County, Maryland. The population is 64,000. It is the oldest community in this series–first settled around 1750. As the federal government expanded for each world war, the population of Rockville also grew because those workers wanted to live in a closeby suburb. The city is fairly ethnically diverse, with a large number of foreign-born residents. Rockville Town Square is a downtown commercial and retail hub–with an ice skating rink! In this episode, we hear from a political staffer, a scientist, an economic development specialist, and a college student.
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.
“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.
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.
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.
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.
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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.
City Council Chronicles 