Tag: politics

#16: Bloomington, IL 5/9/16

Every seat was filled at the Bloomington city council meeting–with Boy Scouts no less! Either those fellas were getting their Sitting-Through-An-Ordeal merit badge OR something special was happening.

Turns out, it was a little bit of both.

Mayor Tari Renner started off with a long string of proclamations:

  • National Nursing Home Week (theme: “It’s a Small World with a Big Heart”)
  • Emergency Medical Services Week (theme: “EMS Strong”)
  • Economic Development Week (theme: “Uhh…pass”)

And finally, said the mayor, “something that’s near and dear to the heart of our citizens who have driven on our streets, who have flushed our toilets–” uh, National Street Toilet Week?–“and that is Public Works Week.”

Then his eyes lit up. “Oh, man! Our star of all stars! Delvar Dopson! Good to see you, man!” Mayor Renner’s smile was so big, it was like he was staring at his long lost brother.

Instead, he was staring at the public works director and sanitation worker Delvar Dopson. “Delvar was able to reach out to this young girl in the route that he goes,” the director explained. “And she made this great comment about him, ‘the awesome smiley garbage guy,’ and she wanted for her birthday to just meet him. And so it was just one of those cute, sweet stories. The sucker went viral!”

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Local hero Delvar Dopson

Dopson got wild applause and the proclamation from the mayor. “I remember you before I was mayor for being at the gym together,” he swooned. “I was just using regular weights and you were bench pressing the trucks from the public works department.” The two muscular men parted ways and the meeting continued.

There was a proposal on the table to give city manager David Hales a new contract with a raise. But Alderman Kevin Lower rained down a Hales-storm.

“It certainly does not reflect our current economic conditions in the municipality,” he warned. “I feel my thumb on the pulse of many of my constituents who just don’t feel like they can afford” to pay for a raise.

Alderman David Sage was offended on behalf of the city manager. “I’m always amazed we simply do not extend the courtesy of publicly saying ‘thank you’ for the job that you do.” He gazed longingly into Hales’s peepers. “I’m extremely proud to have you as the city manager of Bloomington.”

The vote was 8-1 for the raise–Alderman Lower being the one.

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Alderman David Sage: “I wish I could quit you, city manager.”

Mayor Renner was ready to wrap when Alderman Jim Fruin remembered something important. “I assume you’re going to say something about–” he gestured–“the Boy Scouts?”

“Oh!” the mayor suddenly recalled. “Okay…Alderman Lower?”

The alderman finally drew attention, at the end of an hour-long meeting, to the antsy and exhausted young audience. “The city council will probably agree with me…sometimes they don’t,” he acidly glanced at his colleagues. “The lessons that you are learning right now in Boy Scouts…I have put many of those lessons to work in my adult life and it’s something you can’t find anywhere else.”

The council, for once, agreed with him.

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Clearly the meeting was an endurance test for more than just the Boy Scouts

Final thoughts: At the end of the day, the city manager got his raise, Delvar Dopson got his proclamation, and Alderman Lower got to drop some wisdom on the youth. Win-win-win! I give this meeting 10 out of 10 stars.

#15: Danville, VA 5/5/16

Danville may not be the biggest city. Or the best city. Or even the best city named Danville (it’s Danville, California, obvi). But it has one thing that other cities do not:

The most annoyingly-cheerful sons-of-b’s on city council.

Mayor Sherman Saunders rose with a proclamation for the 50th anniversary of the city’s Goodyear plant. “Whereas the Goodyear tire and rubber company broke ground in DANVILLE,” he said, practically shouting the city name. “And whereas Goodyear DANVILLE is DANVILLE’s largest employer–” at this point, the two representatives from Goodyear were suppressing laughter as the Honorable Mayor bellowed “Danville” every other sentence.

“I, Sherman M. Saunders, mayor, city of DANVILLE do hereby commend Goodyear DANVILLE on its 50th anniversary in DANVILLE, Virginia.” He glanced at the room with a kingly defiance.

“Yeah, I’m proud to say ‘DANVILLE.’ That’s right!”

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Don’t tell Mayor Sherman Saunders that someone didn’t put “DANVILLE” in all caps

“Thank you, and we look forward to another 50 years of good service in Danville,” the company’s representatives responded, opting not to scream the city name. It didn’t matter–there was already a huge lovefest for Goodyear in the crowd.

“I worked at Goodyear and I built on the U2s,” the mayor reminisced.

“I also worked at Goodyear,” boasted Councilman James Buckner.

“Goodyear is Danville and Danville is Goodyear,” Councilman  J. Lee Vogler, the resident poet, freestyled.

Next, the sheriff came forward to talk about the first annual Youth Day on Saturday–complete with music, a basketball free throw competition, and hundred-yard dash.

“Do you have something for [people] over 65?” Councilman John Gilstrap cheekily inquired.

“Serving hot dogs,” the sheriff retorted.

Gilstrap chuckled. “I can do that!”

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The council, looking jazzed about Youth Day

Youth Day wasn’t the only big ticket item in town–and not even the only one featuring wieners: “The community market opens this Saturday,” Councilman Buckner reported. “Make sure you stop by at the time I’m working because I’m gonna make hands down the best hot dogs.”

Vice-Mayor Gary Miller called bullsh*t: “Mr. Buckner may think he makes the best hot dogs, but I’m gonna produce the healthiest ones. I’m gonna have turkey dogs,” he bragged, to groans from the council. “That are healthy for you.”

“There goes my appetite,” the mayor gagged. It sounds like the vice-mayor will have plenty of leftovers. Thanksgiving dinner at the Miller house? Turkey hot dogs.

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Would you eat a turkey hot dog from this man?

Before the meeting adjourned, Mayor Saunders flipped on his mic, leaned back, and speechified like a Sunday preacher. “I want to thank the voters who reelected me just a few days ago. I maintain–you’re gonna hear it four more years–DANVILLE is a great city.

“Yes, we do have issues to work on and we are working on them. But the minute number of people who are causing these negative issues….they will be caught and they WILL be stopped.”

The mayor was all worked up and now spitting pure verse.

“There is no despair here in DANVILLE. Thank you for electing us.

“Thank you for supporting us.

“Thank you for believing in us.

“And thank you for being a part of the great city…of DANVILLE, VIRGINIA.”

Final thoughts: I loved this meeting as much as Mayor Saunders loves screaming theword “DANVILLE.” I give it 8/10 turkey hot dogs.

—

UPDATE: 11:33 a.m. THIS GUY!

#14: Northport, AL 5/2/16

As the classic song goes, “Sweet home Alabama / Where the skies are so blue and the city council meetings get ’em riled up like General Lee’s army.”

The warning shot was fired by a grizzled Northport veteran who wasted no time during public comment in waving the rebel flag. “We now have regular traffic jams at all hours of the day and early evening,” he charged.

“The speed of cars along Fifth Street going 45, 50, 60 miles an hour has unfortunately become commonplace–and the noise pollution of cars and trucks.” He gave one final push on his verbal bayonet. “I wouldn’t invite my two-year-old granddaughter to come and visit me in Northport until this situation changes.”

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Remember: the Civil War was started because of traffic concerns

How would Mr. Lincoln’s army respond? Council President Jay Logan chose retreat. “I know your wife came up two weeks ago and expressed an interest in traffic control…I can’t really give you a solution right now just simply because it’s still considered a state highway.”

Councilman Bert Sims made a run to join enemy lines. “When I’m eating at Billy’s [Sports Grill], I’m very nervous for pedestrians. When that light’s green…they have at it like they’re at Talladega.”

One councilman down. A traitor to his cause.

The next skirmish was a big’un: Jody Jobson, himself a former city councilman, strode up to the front line. Brother against brother. Heartbreaking. War is hell.

“Are you familiar with any slush funds in this past administrator’s office?” Jobson assailed.

Mayor Herndon sat up. “Slush funds?”

“Slush funds,” Lieutenant Jobson responded. “That nobody on the council had access to except [the recently resigned city manager]?”

“No, sir, I do not,” the mayor returned fire. “And it’d be better if you–if you’re gonna be talking about an individual that’s not an employee of the city of Northport–”

“Well you get on the radio and talk about it…you get on the TV and talk about it,” Jobson flanked Hizzoner.

Mayor Herndon refused to give ground. “With good cause, good reason.”

Corporal Jobson laid into the mayor about how the former city administrator moved money from one fund to another without a council vote. Then, mid-sentence, a loud, piercing siren sounded. Did General Grant surrender? Had Johhny Reb captured Fort Northport?

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Artist’s rendering of the bloody Battle of Mount Slush Fund

No, Jody’s time was up.

But he wasn’t going quietly. “I was fixin’ to call for a state audit because you just don’t– you don’t move funds from one to another without a vote. And he doesn’t have any authority to do that unless council does it.”

Score one for the Union. A slow clap from the graycoats greeted Jobson as he sat down.

As they prepared to celebrate the ceasefire, council President Logan had one final dispatch from Mr. Lincoln’s war room. “We had a safety fair Saturday and Councilman Sullivan and I participated in a dunking booth. So if you missed the opportunity to dunk me and Rodney…you just missed it.”

Councilman Sullivan muttered, “I’m glad they missed it.” Clearly, he was shaken from narrowly avoiding Jody Jobson’s sustained volley. Lord knows what that man could do with a dunking booth in his crosshairs.

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“Dearest Nelly: I narrowly survived the dunking booth today. I only wish divine Providence had spared Councilman Sullivan.”

Final thoughts: Let’s just pray these boys make it home to their wives. And that the country never again sees the horror of the battlefield.*

*dunking booth

#5: River Falls, WI 4/12/16

Hiya dere, Badger Staters! Who’s ready for a trip up the Kinnickinnic River to River Falls, Wisconsin? Yah? Sure, you betcha!

The chief cheesehead at the city council was Mayor Dan Toland. Don’t let his facial hair deceive you: while he may have the beard and mustache of a movie villain, he’s got the accent of every Little League coach within 1,000 miles of Chicago.

“If anybody in the audience has anything to say, now would be the time,” the mayor started out, waving people toward the guest book at the microphone.

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The Breakfast Club–I mean, citizens of River Falls, watch the meeting.

Jeff and Larry took the bait. “We’re planing to build in the new industrial park,” they said, looking like…well, two guys who’re gonna build in the new industrial park.

“For those that don’t know me, I was born and raised a River Falls native and grew up on a dairy farm around here,” said Jeff, wisely appealing to the utter-squirters in the crowd. “Mr. Cronk taught me in sixth grade, I believe. Science,” he said, waving at Alderperson David Cronk.

Larry briefly interjected: “I have to apologize, I’m not a native to Wisconsin…but I grew up in Stillwater, Minnesota.” Naturally, as a Minnesotan, he’s legally required to apologize whenever possible.

“We’re dreaming of being wildly successful and I think we’re well on our way,” Larry humblebragged.

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Jeff and Larry, or as I call them “Casual” and “Sporty”

The next commenter was…I wanna say…Tim?

“My name’s Tim. We’re also doing a development. Gonna be their neighbors it sounds like,” Tim said. “I just wanna introduce myself. Like I said, we’re really excited. Just wanted to say hi.”

Wow, the industrial park is gonna be quite the hang-out spot. Bring your s’mores and some Miller Lites over to Jeff, Larry, and Tim’s place!

“I got some plaques to hand out to some of our alderpersons that are retiring and stepping down,” the mayor said, bounding down from the dais. “So give me a minute…I’ll try to embarrass them.”

Three whole alderpersons were skee-daddling: Jim Nordgren (“whenever we need a fill-in, he’s always the guy”), Aaron Taylor (“he had other things to do”), and Dan Gulick (“he’s got all sorts of stuff going on”).

The mayor handed each of them a plaque, which I’m sure they’ll cherish as they do their other things and stuff.

Water talk was up next from Kevin Westhuis, the utility director. “We are gonna be painting Sycamore water tower this year and someone said, ‘well geez, I heard a rumor that you’re gonna paint the tower a different color and I heard that UW’s going on the tower.’ UW River Falls is gonna pay to put its little logo on the tower and it looks like this,” he said, holding up this obscene smutpiece:

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Sycamore water tower’s new logo is puuuuuuurrrrrreeeeee sex.

Finally, the police chief stepped up to break some news about the weather siren schedule. “Normally it’s the fourth Monday of each month at 1 p.m.But due to the emergency preparedness week, this Thursday we’re gonna have two different times. One’s gonna be at 1:45 pm. and the other one’s gonna be at 6:55 pm.”

“This is the first time we’ve done one so late in the evening,” he admitted, casting aside the dozens of “Jeopardy!”  viewers who will mistakenly think the loud buzzing is their hearing aid.

Final thoughts: By far the nicest buncha folks you ever did see at a council shindig! Jeff, Larry, and Tim are welcome to crash on my couch anytime. I give this meeting 2 out of 2 emergency airhorns.

#4: Aiken, SC 4/11/16

Why, I do declare! Sip yourself some sweet tea and try not to get the vapors, because we’re in South Carolina for the Aiken city council meetin’. This Palmetto State powwow is built on the three G’s: God, Grits, and Gettin’ down to the People’s Business.

Mayor Rick Osbon, the Aiken dry cleaning mogul, started things off with a down-homey prayer from one of the local men of the cloth.

“Through it all, [God] will be glorified and your name and your kingdom exalted. For this we give you all the praise, all the honor, and all the glory with thanksgiving. In Jesus’s precious name, Amen.”

Amen! I believe it’s a law in South Carolina that you have to start everything in Jesus’s precious name, so just to be safe, let me start this review in His name as well.

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Two minutes in and we’ve already got 18 retinas! Hallelujah!

The first piece of new business was as spicy as a drop of Tabasco: a citizen’s committee to review complaints about the police. This could get explosive–and the village elders certainly didn’t want another Fort Sumter on their hands.

“Five of you would have to vote in favor and council would have to make a finding of exigent circumstances that warrants this,” Councilman Reggie Ebner drawled.

“I don’t know what the definition of exigent is,” he admitted,  folksily. “I looked in the dictionary. It’s ‘something that requires immediate attention.'”

It was awfully diligent–er, sorry, “good job-doing”–of the councilman to do some research. Aikenites, be sure to keep him around. He’s a reader!

“I would definitely deem it exigent,” nodded the mayor, flexing the fancy new word. The council agreed unanimously.

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Mayor Rick Osbon knows two things: how to rock a pocket square and what “exigent” means.

“I’ma go back to our audience,” Mayor Osbon announced, scanning the sparse crowd in the chambers. “Any comments?”

A smart-dressed man strode confidently to the podium.  “Good evening, ya’ll. I have my family back there so excuse them if they start talking with me,” he chuckled. He endorsed the committee, adding “this community is special.”

“Thank you for your comments,” the mayor smiled. “That’s what makes Aiken the special place that it is.” Well, butter my buns and call me a biscuit!

Suddenly, the mayor spotted a target in the audience. “This is Steve Kisner. You may know his son,” pro-golfer Kevin Kisner. “He made us all very proud this past weekend!” The mayor was interrupted by an outbreak of applause. The elder Kisner, himself dressed in a golfy blue Polo and khakis, accepted the applause on his son’s behalf.

“Steve, if he’s in town during a council meeting, bring him around and we’d like to personally recognize him,” Councilwoman Lessie Price promised.

Added Councilwoman Gail Diggs: “Tell him we’ll give him the key to the city. Whatever that is.” Aww, how gracious! (Er, sorry, Councilman Ebner: HOW VERY NICE-THING-TO-DO.)

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Steve Kisner’s son will get the key to the city, whatever that is.

With everyone vibing on Steve’s son, it was time to adjourn. “All those in favor please stand up,” the mayor called, just in time to watch his council make themselves as scarce as a hen’s teeth. In Jesus’s precious name, Amen!

Final thoughts: Because everyone learned the definition of “exigent,” I think we’re all winners. I give this meeting 2 out of 3 mint juleps.

 

#3: Muscatine, IA 4/7/16

If something smells musky, it’s gotta be the Muskies of Muscatine, Iowa! This Thursday’s city council meeting was as hot as a stick of fried butter here in the “Pearl of the Mississippi.” From an arts center imbroglio to a puzzling piece of park, these Hawkeyes stayed hawk-eyed on the People’s Business.

“Tonight we have a special guest,” mayor Diana Broderson hinted, smiling toward the podium and the local V.I.P. standing astride it. “Sophia Aguirre is going to read the proclamation done for the Muscatine Volunteer Week.”

Whoa, talk about a surprise drop-in! Mayor Broderson booked the 2016 Miss Muscatine Outstanding Teen for a primetime Thursday night appearance?!

I was starstruck as Her Highness daintily read the declaration of April 10-16 as volunteer week for all Muskies. Applause erupted among the common rabble and the council members giddily lined up for a photo of this once-in-a-lifetime brush with royalty.

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Miss Muscatine Outstanding Teen thunderously addressing her subjects

After this red carpet moment, the council turned to less glamorous fare. “We’re gonna move on to number five in our agenda,” Mayor Broderson announced. Number five? Where were numbers two through four? Had they been executed at Miss Teen Muscatine’s request?

“If there is anyone in the audience that would like to discuss an item not on tonight’s agenda, please step to the podium,” the mayor thundered.

One citizen approached warily.

The councilmembers licked their lips, ready to pounce on their foolhardy prey.

“I wanted to propose making Third Street a one-way to deal with traffic flow instead of making Second Street into a two-way,” this fair Muskie beseeched her overseers.

“I guess if…” she paused, searching for the words that would get her out of the lion’s den unscathed. “If it’s possible, we could vote on it as a referendum.”

A vote! BY THE RABBLE? I shuddered and turned away, expecting the mayor to tear into her, ripping tendon from bone.

“Thank you. We’ll talk about that further,” she said.

Ah, mercy. The mark of a benevolent lord.

“Let’s move on to section 9A,” Mayor Broderson said, clearly showing not a care in the world for her rupture in the chronological order of space-time.

Section 9A was a proclamation for Sister City Day in Muscatine. The mayor stamped the holiday on April 3, to honor Dro…Droh–“boy this is gonna be tough,” she muttered–Drohobych, Ukraine; Kisolovodsk, Russia; Ichikawamisato, Japan;  Ludw-well, you get the idea. Weird names. The council stood to take a photo with the proclamation.

“We should have all worn our Sunday best today,” the mayor mused.

“I’ll look a lot thinner behind you,” one ample-bodied councilman grunted to another, squeezing into the plus-sized and clearly corn-fed group.

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Paparazzi were out in force

Moving on to item 11–yes, 11, thanks to a power-mad mayor–the contract to repair the Muscatine Art Center. There was only one bidder, so open-and-shut case. Moving right along-

“We received one bid?” Councilman Tom Spread cried out.

“There were actually two bids for the project,” a gray-haired city bureaucrat sighed. “The lady delivering the bid for the second contractor got confused and went to the county administration building. She was 10 minutes late, so we couldn’t open that bid.”

Too bad. So sad. Leave her in the dust, boys.

“How do you vote, Tom?” the mayor asked.

“Aye,” Councilman Tom responded.

“Allen?…Bob?…Santos?…Scott?…Phil?…Mike?” All ayes.

Next up, accepting a small portion of Sevig Street for the designation-

“Where’s Sevig Street?” the baritone voice of Councilman Mike Rehwaldt boomed.

Over by the Wal-View development, the city manager called out from the front row, to the councilman’s satisfaction.

Final item, approve an updated master plan for Riverside Park. There was-

“Riverview Park? Is that…the park right opposite that small boat harbor?” Councilman Rehwaldt again interrupted. “Isn’t that Riverveiw Park?”

“Riverside Park,” Councilman Santos Saucedo corrected.

Again, the city manager to the rescue: “Riverside Park is basically Cedar Street down to the boat launch.”

Councilman Rehwaldt crossed his meaty arms, satisfied at learning two new things about his city today.

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Councilman Mike “Where is this? Do I live here?” Rehwaldt

With the councilman’s appetite thus satiated, this council of Muskie elders, like the mighty Mississippi River, faded into the night.

Final thoughts: Two words: Miss. Muscatine. Nothing could top that kind of cameo. I give this meeting 10 out of 10 tiaras.

#2: Post Falls, ID 4/5/16

Big news from potato country: Mayor Ron Jacobson is on vacay to sunny Cabo. Yes, while the head honcho enjoys tequilas and senoritas, the six amigos on the city council stayed home to crack open an icy can of the People’s Business.

Firebrand three-term councilor and 2013 Citizen of the Year Linda Wilhelm kicked things off with an award for Post Falls’s newest Eagle Scout. “Every young man in Post Falls who makes Eagle Scout comes to city council and gets an award for that,” she explained, bragging that this uniformed lad had selflessly built a walking path at the Post Falls senior center to earn his stripes. In return, Councilor Wilhelm bestowed a gift that would impress any strapping teen.

“This is a buck knife and your name is spelled right on the knife,” she beamed. “Be careful with that.”

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Post Falls’s newest Eagle Scout receives a buck knife and the legal right to hunt and kill anyone from Kootenai County for 24 hours

The feel-good vibes kept rolling with an announcement that Corbin Park was just named Idaho’s Best Disc Golf Course (for those of you looking for a new vacation spot). And the 12th annual tree giveaway is this Saturday, with each citizen being able to claim a Caligula-like THREE trees. What a leafy utopia Post Falls shall be after this Saturday!

The good news didn’t stop there in this hardy hamlet: Police Chief Haug muscled his way to the podium to offer a commendation to one of his boys in blue. Seems that back in February, Officer Koontz stopped a screw-loose man from 86-ing himself off the Interstate 90 overpass. “That’s why we love this town so much,” interjected Councilor Wilhelm. “It gets me a little choked up.”

After brushing aside the tears, it was time for the “citizens issues” section, a.k.a. public comment. “I don’t see anyone running up here,” Councilor Wilhelm observed after a moment’s pause. Indeed, all 30,000 Post Falls residents were nestled snug in their beds. Except Mayor Jacobson, who was likely nestled between a Jacuzzi and a margarita the size of his head.

Now for some playtime! Or at least, as close as we’re going to get: the Post Falls parks manager was here to talk about playgrounds. A decadent 13 playgrounds dot the city’s landscape and offer a bulwark against what he called “the computerized world.” Hey, buddy: I’m watching you through the magic of the computerized world. Try streaming video on a jungle gym and tell me how it goes.

Suddenly, the cogs of government ground to a halt. Hawk-eyed Councilor Alan Wolfe had been perusing the Parks Department policy and made a SHOCKING discovery. “There is no Section 9,” he bombshelled.

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Councilor Alan Wolfe: “I will go postal if you do not show me Section 9.”

Confusion reigned. Women gasped. Babes wept.

“Is there any reason why there’s no Section 9?”

For a moment, Post Falls, Idaho entered DEFCON-2.

Then, under her breath, Councilor Kerri Thoreson muttered, “All the secret covert stuff is in there.”

Whew. Tension defused.

With that, Councilor Wilhelm announced, “We do need an executive session for 15 minutes” to “acquire an interest in real property,” which sounds like code for “buying land–say, a beachfront condo in Cabo, with no mayors allowed.”

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I had to watch this bridge for 15 minutes

Final thoughts: Clocking in at a cool 45 minutes, these people kept it short, sweet, and focused on the thing that really matters: the tree giveaway this Saturday. I give this meeting 3 out of 3 free saplings.

#1: Pittsburgh, PA 4/5/16

With eyes so steely they could’ve been smelted right here in Pittsburgh, city council president Bruce Kraus pounded his gavel from atop a kingly perch of wood, summoning the council members to feast upon the people’s business.

“Councilwoman Harris, we need you back in chambers please!” the bald-headed statesman pleaded, glancing at the long row of empty desks before him where a mere two council members sat.

The young Corey O’Connor rose first to offer a resolution declaring Friday “PACE Day,” whatever that is. Sirens blared by outside, leading the bespectacled and frat presidential-looking councilman to pause and joke, “it’s a busy day out there.” Were I present, I would have retorted, “It’s a busy day in here, too. Now get crackin’!”

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Councilman Corey O’Connor, also your senior class treasurer

The bearded Councilman Daniel Gilman next commended a group called the Snow Angels, which shovels snow for Pittsburghers. Also, he just said the inherently-funny word “Pittsburghers.” Are you thinking about a bunch of people walking around wearing giant sesame seed buns? I am. Gilman handed the commendation to one Snow Angel even more bearded than he. This hipster Paul Bunyan joked about moving from South Carolina to shovel snow, which got a big laugh. Are you taking notes, Councilman O’Connor?!

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Snow Angel and professional facial hair archivist

Council president Kraus opened the public comment period, giving concerned citizens three minutes to speak and vowing that “order will be maintained at all times.” There was little chance of a riot–the first testifier merely wanted to plug her new gospel song and the other speaker used the phrase “wind swirling snow crystals” while reading from his poetry.

Moving on to bills, Councilwoman Darlene Harris, having finally moseyed on in to the chambers, indicated she would be voting no on “the marijuana bill.” It’s a state and federal issue, she said and “I took an oath to uphold local, state, and federal law.” Councilman Ricky Burgess came back with “I do not in any way support the consumption of illegal drugs. The consumption of many legal drugs I do not support…I do not think people should drink alcohol.” Are these people trying to out-Puritan each other? Which council member is going to come out against pre-marital sex? Councilman O’Connor, I’m looking at you.

Councilman Burgess was wound up like a speeding freight train. Calling the effect of the drug war “worse than slavery,” he thundered that they hire white people in prisons “to make a living off of inner city black males.” He ended up voting yes on the “marijuana bill” and, like a true patriot, returned to fiddling with his cell phone.

After the drama subsided, Councilwoman Theresa Kail-Smith clutched her pearls and came out in favor of a year-round employment program for youths. Coincidentally, her teenage constituents came out with a consensus that “oh my god, we hate you, MOM.”

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Councilwoman Theresa Kail-Smith says “put down the XBox” and “pick up the want ads,” kids

Council president Kraus closed out the meeting by requesting everyone come to tomorrow’s opioid addiction seminar for his big speech. He paused and stared at Councilwoman Harris, who was apparently causing some commotion.

“Is there something wrong, councilwoman?”

“No, Mr. President. Nothing at all,” she replied, sounding just a teensy bit sarcastic.

On a lighter note, for those of you not attending the opioid meeting, Councilman Gilman will be having a city vs. county free-shooting competition tomorrow also.

Final thoughts: coming in just shy of 90 minutes, with a relatively tame public comment period and good behavior by everyone except for troublemaker Darlene Harris, I give the Pittsburgh City Council meeting 7 out of 10 stars.