It is Presidents Days here in the U.S., which means we are taking this day to honor all of the city council presidents/chairs/mayors who make their meetings run like a finely-tuned clock. But more importantly, let’s have a look back at where we chronicled with the January month in review.
Take a moment to find a city council meeting review you haven’t read or a podcast episode you haven’t listened to, then spend your holiday catching up!
Some people celebrate their 80th birthday in the comfort of their home. Others do it during a 3 p.m. “dinner” at Bob Evans.
But only the wokest of octogenarians get a VIP ceremony in their city council chamber.
“I had the opportunity to attend a very special birthday party–with a YOUNG lady celebrating her 80th birthday–and I decided we ought to do a proclamation,” announced Council President Ben Gray with a wide grin.
“Rachel learned to drive and work three jobs to support her family,” he rattled off her biography. “Nurturing over 100 children through foster care is something special. Sometimes heroes are not people you see on television or read about.” (Mr. President, the Chronicles begs to differ!)
“I DID ask for Rachel to bring her birth certificate because I didn’t believe the 80-year-old story,” he joked. Or, at least, I thought it was a joke until he handed the shiny proclamation to a distinguished lady who didn’t look a day over 50!
“We’ll see you in another 80 years!” Gray cracked as the council roared with applause.
Alas, no sooner had the metaphorical candles been blown out than one councilmember went for the jugular.
“You know the history of that site. It certainly has had issues,” Councilmember Garry Gernandt frowned deeply as he stared down a stocky man who owned a scrap and salvage yard.
“We pick up the neighborhood and clean up and try to be a good neighbor,” the man retorted. “We haven’t had any major problems that I know of.”
NO problems?! Gernandt couldn’t believe his eardrums. “One of those complaints when you first took over was the proposed truck traffic into your facility–allow me to finish!” he thrust up a hand to silence the man’s protest. “My question: what are your hours of operation?”
The answer: “Approximately 8-5 daily. Eight to noon on Saturday. We’ll do a better job of recycling and maybe keep things a little cleaner. Make the health department happy.”
Amen, no one likes a dirty scrapyard. Get some organizing bins for those rusted-out car chassis!
No sooner had Mr. Scrapyard stood down than a feisty woman in a ball cap leaned onto the podium. The subject: a special tax for cutting and clearing weeds. Her mood: enraged.
“Since I see you putting taxes on cutting the weeds and stuff, I wanted to know: are y’all going to be taking care of your OWN property?” she broadsided the unsuspecting council.
“The city has several lots in North Omaha which they do not maintain or keep up. Are y’all gonna tax yourselves?! I’ve been keeping the lot cut next to my property–which belongs to the city!
“Do I get reimbursed for cutting the yard?” she demanded in a blazing rhetorical ambush.
Wow, talk about speaking truth to power! I believe the engineers will have to examine City Hall’s foundation after the way it was SHAKEN just now.
“I don’t think we work that way,” responded Council President Gray through a forced smile.
Councilmember Rich Pahls offered meek words of encouragement. “If we’re gonna put the pressure on property owners, we ought to take a look at ourselves. Something tells me something’s going to get done. If not,” he shrugged, “come back.”
Final thoughts: Recycling at the scrapyard? Cutting down weeds? I give 10 out of 10 stars to cleanliness!
Sometimes Nebraska lives up to its reputation as “the interesting man’s Kansas.”
But sadly, this week the Cornhuskers on the Lincoln city council were focused 100 percent on the soul-crushing, time-dragging nuts and bolts of the People’s Business.
“Can you please tell us about your application?” Vice Chair Leirion Gaylor Baird smiled at the nervous Middle Eastern man wanting a liquor license.
“I just applied…for selling beer for my restaurants. I’m trying to sell only beer.”
Silence.
“So…this is an existing business?” Councilman Carl Eskridge probed.
“Yes. I’m trying to sell just beer.”
But Councilman Roy Christensen had some bad news for this shifty-eyed beer slinger.
“I’m going to vote to disapprove your application,” the councilman kindly but firmly informed the sweaty applicant. “I don’t want you to take this personally.”
As mild as this exchange was, it was nothing compared to the coma-inducing Q&A between Councilman Jon Camp and the city’s pension officer.
JC: Considering the assumed rate of return is 7.5 percent or 6.4 percent…but really that 3.23 percent is before you’ve had those distributions.
PO: The 3.2 starts with the beginning value and recognizes all the tax receipts and how the values of the underlying asset change in terms of the income we receive from dividends and interest.
JC: It would appear on the investments that we only made $2.4 million when you take dividend, realized gains, and you subtract the losses.
PO: The investment earnings, if you factor all that in, is 3.23 perce–
Holy mother, I’m going to stop here. Not only was this incredibly dry, but they were the two most monotone, low-voiced people I’ve seen outside of a librarians’ convention.
Suddenly–mercifully–in the home stretch, we saw some action in the outfield.
“I would move to delay a vote” on the storm water plan, Councilwoman Cyndi Lamm beseeched her colleagues, “until July 11.”
But Councilwoman Jane Raybould made it clear: De-lay? No way!
“I am not going to support the motion because we heard loud and clear from our voters. To say that we’re not going forward with those projects when the voters vote in affirmation of these projects is sort of disingenuous.”
Tempers flared. Knuckles cracked. A vote was taken on a delay. The tally?
3-3. A tie.
“Uh, so,” Vice Chair Gaylor Baird fumbled, “the motion fails on a tie?”
“Any vote of the city council requires four votes to pass,” Councilman Christensen nodded.
Then, a move no one saw coming:
“I would be willing to vote,” piped up Councilman Eskridge, who originally voted AGAINST a delay, “in such a way that it WOULD be delayed.” The Midwestern Benedict Arnold sheepishly avoided eye contact with everyone but the floor.
Cross-talk ensued. Lawyers were summoned. Fast-thinking Councilman Camp swooped in to finish her. “I move we delay this to July 11.”
The do-over vote was done-over. Result? 5-1.
A fuming Councilwoman Raybould silently rested her chin on her fists, thwarted by one rascally traitor.
Final thoughts: I gotta hand it to Councilman Jon Camp. He lulled us almost to sleep before surprising us with a quick-draw vote. I give him 3.23 percent…or 7.5 percent–wait, or
City Council Chronicles 