Tag: Oregon

#126: Salem, OR 8/28/17

Any regular announcements at the top of Salem’s city council meeting were “eclipsed” (MAJOR PUN ALERT) by a single event.

“I want to say to the staff that you did a fantastic job with the eclipse,” Councilor Tom Andersen crossed his arms and beamed. “I pushed back a little bit several months ago–and I see the city manager is nodding his head!–about what should have been done. This may be the first time I ever say this, but he was right and I was wrong!”

There were guffaws from the gallery. That noise was quickly replaced by Councilor Sally Cook signaling for the mayor’s attention.

“I just wanted to ask everybody a quick question: do you know your blood type?”

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Asking for a friend

Sporting a gigantic “I Made A Difference” sticker, she put in a gigantic plug for getting one’s blood drawn.

“I donated today. I had my first ‘Power Red’ donation. Very exciting. Very strange,” she mused. Noticing raised eyebrows, Councilor Cook added, “it means my blood is SO special, I get extra credit.”

Other councilors groaned, causing Cook to grin innocently. “It means they take your platelets and also the plasma. And that has a longer shelf life. I just encourage you to visit your friendly vampire.”

While this doesn’t give me extra motivation to donate blood, it does make me wonder about the shelf life of my own platelets.

But there was no time to dwell on my hypothetical blood. At this point, a deeply distressed public commenter stepped forward to talk about actual bloodshed.

“Car had to be going 60-70 mph down Fisher Road,” the man held up a graphic photo of a car crash’s aftermath.

“Five days later, this young lady,” he shakily displayed a picture of his wife, “was hit getting her mail out of the mailbox and killed right there.”

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😥

He lowered his gaze and continued in a gravelly voice. “Fisher Road just became a speedway. Something needs to be done. It’s just too bad my wife lost her life out there.”

Councilor Chris Hoy braced himself on the desk and looked the man in the eye. “I sat at your dining room table with you and your wife a few weeks before this horrible event. I have not forgotten that–and never will forget.”

It was an uneasy segue, but the council had no choice but to move on to what should have been a less emotional topic: amendments to the sign code.

Councilor Andersen leaned forward and frowned. “I’d like to make a substitute motion that we postpone deliberation on the sign code and have a work session.”

This touched off a nerve for Mayor Chuck Bennett, who lashed out without warning at the suggestion.

“I’ll tell ya: you knew you had two weeks. Not ONE PERSON followed up during the two weeks to talk with anyone about this,” he snapped at the stunned councilors. “I would hope you’ll ACTUALLY put your nose to the grindstone and do some work.”

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“Your mother and I aren’t mad. We’re just disappointed.”

Councilor Cara Kaser bristled at the mayor’s insinuation of laziness. “The two weeks were punctuated by a celestial event that will never happen again in our lifetime,” she protested. “We’re volunteer councilors. We work 40 or more hours a week.”

“Yeah, I also work 40-hour-plus weeks,” retorted the mayor icily. “I don’t mean to be nannyish, but maybe this time folks will step up and do the work.”

Against the mayor’s scolding, the council voted to give themselves more time for their homework.

Interview #6: Portland, OR Commissioner Amanda Fritz

After watching the Portland city council meeting, I, like many of you, was confused. Hungry. Thirsty. So after I ordered a pizza and poured a glass of Merlot, I called up local Commissioner Amanda Fritz to get the Bridgetown scoop.

We talked about public commenters, regret, and looking good for the cameras.

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Q: Despite your thick Portland accent, you grew up somewhere else, right?

A: I was born and raised in England.

Q: Have you ever seen council city meetings over there?

A: No, I’ve watched Parliament but not city councils.

Q: Is Parliament similar to the Portland city council?

A: Not really. There’s no citizen testimony–it’s just all politicians pontificating.

Q: Let’s pretend it’s one hour before the council meeting. What are you doing to get in the zone?

A: We get the agenda the week before. So Friday afternoon and Monday and Tuesday my staff are looking at every single issue that’s going to be coming up. When I get to work at about nine on Wednesday, most of the time I’m just remembering to put my no-shine powder on because of the HDTV, getting my tea, getting breakfast.

Q: Portland’s meetings can be brutal. How do you stay focused?

A: For me, it’s not hard because you’ve got dozens of eyes watching you either in the audience or on television. It’s really important that you recognize you’re onstage. Being onstage constantly for three or four hours knowing that thousands of people may be watching at home is exhausting.

Q: I never thought about it that way! Do you have any training as a stage actor?

A: [Laughs] Only what I did in high school.

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Portland, OR Commissioner Amanda Fritz

Q: Say I’m coming in to testify for three minutes. What do I need to do to impress you?

A: What you should’ve done is send in your comments beforehand.

Q: So…don’t come in? That’s your advice?

A: No, do both! There are very few people who could persuade you in three minutes to completely change your mind. Then it’s basically the rules of advertising: tell them, tell them what you told them, and tell them again. And then get other people to testify.

Q: Is there anything you’ve regretted saying during a city council meeting that has stuck with you?

A: I always go home thinking, “gosh, I should have said this instead of that.” Very rarely do you believe that you’ve completely nailed a speech or a performance. So there’s always that “I could have done this better.”

Q: Portland’s HDTV is really amazing. Were you nervous at first that you would have to spend more time in hair and makeup?

A: Well, my hair doesn’t behave anyway, but it was Laural Porter–who is a TV reporter–it was she who festooned me with powder and explained about the “HD shine.” Ever since then, I’ve been dutifully putting my HD powder on before meetings. I’ve noticed that I don’t shine and the boys do. Either nobody’s told them about the powder or else they think it’s not a manly thing to do.

Q: Have you ever nudged one of them and whispered, “Commissioner, you’re shining right now.”

A: We had a commissioner who had a very bald head which would shine rampantly. I may have mentioned it to him but I don’t think he ever took me up on it.

Follow Commissioner Amanda Fritz on Twitter: @AmandaFritzRN

#23: Portland, OR 5/25/16

Say the word “Portland” and people think of baristas, bikers, and brunch-guzzling hipsters. But now, I hope you’ll also remember the Rose City for its generous, almost masochistic public comment period.

Rest assured: there was nooooo shortage of comments.

“Vic Remmers is holding my life hostage. The ransom is $700,000,” a woman exhaled, dramatically over-pronouncing everything like a “Shakespeare in the Park” performer. “My dream house…it is going to be demolished. And Vic Remmers said he would replace it with 12 condos. I’m terrified–terrified!”

There was applause from the gallery when she breathlessly finished. “If you have a minute, you can stop in my office and talk to Camille,” Mayor Charlie Hales informed her, casually tossing Camille under the bus.

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Vic Remmers may be bad, but this video quality is GOOD!

The council turned to a routine bill about automobile accident investigations and, fortunately for us, was obligated to open up the floor.

“We would like to know if these investigations would include a chief of police shooting his friend, and the mayor covering it up for a month,” the yellow-shirted man tethered to an oxygen tank wheezed.

“We’ll have that conversation some other time,” Mayor Hales warned.

“I’m SURE you don’t want to talk about this, mayor!” gasped the man. “You covered up the shooting over a month where the chief of police lied!”

Hizzoner seethed. “You can testify, but I’m not going to be cross-examined.”

“You should be arrested! You should resign, sir!” roared the man, before wheeling his oxygen tank away.

(I normally don’t do background research on what I hear at council meetings. But it turns out, this routine crazy person actually DID have a point.)

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WELP, THAT WAS UNCOMFORTABLE.

The next commenter read at length from his beefy packet of papers. “If I can just take a minute to go off topic a bit, we’re in a leadership vacuum. What’s lacking is leadership, due to everyone’s voice being heard,” he complained through a mouth-hole that allowed HIS voice to be heard.

“We just spent 10 minutes on a rant that has nothing to do with this issue,” Commissioner Nick Fish snapped afterward. “I think it’s disrespectful to the people that are actually ahead in the queue.” Subtext: CAN WE GET THROUGH THIS ALREADY?

The final controversial issue was that the Washington Park Reservoir needs to be rebuilt for various reasons–not the least of which is that it isn’t earthquake proof. You would think people would sympathize, buuuuuuttttt…

“This is an offensive bullying tactic by our lame-duck mayor and our unethical, offensive commissioners on behalf of their crony contractors,” a woman barked at the council. They stared bleary-eyed back at her. If there is a purgatory, this comes pretty close to it.

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We could protect the reservoir from earthquakes and landslides…or listen to the angry lady.

Trying to close on a happy note, Commissioner Amanda Fritz announced: “I want to call to your attention that John Zoller is retiring–”

“What?!” Zoller blurted off camera.

“Am I correct on that?” the bewildered commissioner asked. Then, apologizing for the misinformation, “I’m getting very tired. We’ve been here for three and a half hours!”

Gee, I wonder why.

Final thoughts: Trust me, I left out a lot. Including the guy who goes only by “Lightning” and the man in a pink ballcap who commented so many times that I lost count. I give this meeting 4 out of 5 muscle relaxers.

#18: Lebanon, OR 5/11/16

The auction block was hot at the Lebanon city council meeting! People lined up left and right to annex land for their own kinky purposes, and the council was in charge of moving the merchandise.

Vest-clad, avuncular community development honcho Walt Wendolowski rattled off the three pieces of primo Oregon soil for annexation. Mayor Paul Aziz called out to the back of the room, “Would the applicant like to speak?”

“I just wanna say,” Applicant #1 reported, “I approve of the staff report and enjoy working with the city of Lebanon.” He promptly walked back to his seat.

Applicant #2 didn’t even bother getting out of his chair. “I think Walt covered it all,” he hollered.

Applicant #3 tied him in word economy, sitting down for all of two seconds simply to say: “I concur with Walt’s staff report.”

It was a scene reminiscent of the Lincoln-Douglas debates, when Abraham Lincoln famously retorted, “Yeah, I think Walt has the right idea.”

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It is biologically impossible to disagree with Walt.

After approving all three requests, there was another land matter of what to do about a shipping container someone plopped down in a neighborhood. Here to talk about it was–surprise–our man Walt Wendolowski.

“You know, at the Rotary meeting, if you see a person this much, there’d be a fine for it,” he joked, taking out his wallet and pretending to put a dollar into the I’m-Talking-Too-Much bucket. The city could ignore the trailer or try to boot it, but “in the past 15 years we’ve had only two issues,” Walt noted.

“I’m not a big fan of government telling me what I can do with my property,” warned grizzled Councilor Rebecca Grizzle. “If I want to have something hideous in my backyard, that’s subjective. And I’ve had to look at hideous things in other people’s backyards.” Tell me about it! If I have to look out the window and see my neighbor’s butterface kids one more time–

“I agree. The whole aesthetic thing is….we’d start saying ‘can you not paint your house purple?'” Mayor Aziz concurred.

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Lebanon will defend your right to make your house look like a hideous purple monstrosity.

Councilor Jason Bolen had a community update from his perch as the local youth baseball coach (go Warriors!).  “We have been able to install turf around all of the home plates and all of the mounds,” he bragged. “The kids just love them. You should see these kids learning how to slide coming into home. Instead of doing it on dirt and kind of doing a skid, hop, and a rollover, these guys are sliding in there when they have to and when they don’t have to!”

“I like the sign,” Councilor Grizzle whispered mischievously.

Councilor Bolen chuckled at the inside joke. “Yeah…I did that one. It says: ‘These are kids. They’re not professionals. Coaches are volunteers. Umpires are human. None of these kids are going to get a pro contract today. Relax.'”

Also, on the back of the sign: “Your dreams are dead. Fun is an illusion. Mediocrity is noble. Vote Bolen for Council.”

Final thoughts: From letting a disgusting trailer sit to making a sign that says your kid isn’t gonna make it, the Lebanon city council is a real “live-and-let-live” crowd. It’s the kind of place where I’d be proud to paint my house magenta. I give this meeting 7 out of 10 stars.