On the radio this morning, there was a story about a Republican US Congressman whose district includes Joplin, Missouri.. He reportedly aligns himself with the "Tea Party." The story was about what amounts to hypocrisy. Joplin was heavily damaged by tornados this year, and the Congressman eagerly accepted, in fact sought, whatever help FEMA could give. There were even reportedly supportive and heartfelt appearances in the area by Obama and Nancy Pelosi. Some people in Joplin didn't want the help. They are far right-wingers, and they reportedly wanted only to help themselves, with no contribution from the Federal government, for which they apparently have disdain. But the Congressman was more than happy to accept help from FEMA, even though his usual public statements were in the direction of limiting the Federal government and FEMA.
I remember a TV show Michael Moore did about 15 years ago. It was called "TV Nation," and it was a somewhat provocative investigation show, more or less like his movies. In one episode, he tracked down Newt Gingrich, to ask him about a sizable Federal expenditure in Gingrich's district. The expenditure was to construct a large pond or lake, to enhance a private high end housing development. Gingrich essentially ran away and refused to talk to Moore.
For years, Joe Lieberman called himself a Democrat. I could never figure out why. Eventually, he gave it up, and he now calls himself a Republican. Makes complete sense to me. Every one of his policies was, as I recall, in line with Republicans. He really was one. Now, he admits it. It's better that way.
So every once in a while, you find someone like that. Someone who declares him or herself a member of one party, but whose heart is very clearly with the other party. For example, you might find someone who will, at any moment of any day, say he is a Democrat, and support and vote for Democrats, but who has allergy-level, and certainly Republican-level, mistrust of and disdain for government, and who will react even to the mention of taxes as if they were someone's attempt to swindle him out of his money. Or as if taxation was more or less like the government's commission of armed robbery. Such people are sometimes preoccupied with crime and "aliens," and they seem to want to live in a fortress.
As I say, it's a curious thing. Tip O'Neill was prophetically right. All politics really are local. The guy from Missouri and Newt Gingrich can complain all they want about Federal expenditures and even waste, but when it's for their own enrichment, they get much more flexible. They get "generous with other people's money." And others can say what they want about the importance of the role of government in supporting the public and infrastructure, but when it's their money that has to pay for it, they're not so sure it's necessary, or at least that there must be some other way to pay for it. Or some "grant" or other source that will pay, because they want to keep their money. It seems they're generous, too, but only if the money is someone else's.
The fact is, of course, that most people who call themselves adherents of one party or another are essentially honest about it. They declare a party affiliation, because they agree with the philosophies and positions of that party. But some people are either confused or hypocrites. For whatever reasons, they claim affiliation with one major party, but their real personal instincts and ethics are much better aligned with the other party. Too bad they either don't get it, or they're not honest enough to call themselves what they are.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Gimme a Break!
What an awful hearing I'm slogging through today. The attorney is the most miserable I ever have to deal with. He's in Queens, New York. I probably shouldn't say his name. I've dealt with him on many occasions, and he is essentially a terrorist when it comes to hearings. I've seen him bring hearings and judges to their knees. He's doing it again. How he thinks this serves his clients' interests is beyond me. I can imagine that a judge might be tempted to find against his client, just because they can't stand him.
He constantly interrupts those testifying, the judges, and the experts. He is rude and hostile, and he challenges everything. Everything! He accuses judges and medical experts of being biased. He even writes about this, and his flailings can be found on line. He raises his voice during hearings, talks over people, and seems devoted to derailing the hearings. It is not infrequent that judges will tell him he has to control himself, or they will suspend and have to reschedule the hearings. Hearings with him take significantly longer than with other attorneys, because he won't stay on track and/or shut up. Attorneys in New York are peculiarly uninhibited and combative, but this guy takes the cake.
Today, he stopped a hearing for a while, asserting that perhaps the recording might not be working. While this was being investigated, he took another swipe at the judge, noting that he recalled another time the recording failed "conveniently" at a time the judge "wanted the case to go away." As it turns out, the recording was working fine. It appears he invented his concern, to keep the hearing off balance. And never mind the vile accusation of the judge.
He's also an avid letter-writer to higher authorities. He has turned in judges for accusations of bias, and he once wrote to a judge to request that the judge surrender me to the Attorney General's Office for criminal investigation, based on his conclusion that I lied about something. Five of the judges in that office are being sued for bias. It appears this attorney is behind it.
This attorney is clearly a very disturbed person. He is belligerent, uncivilized, and seems to me to be almost paranoid. He is completely unmanageable in a hearing. And the funny thing is I met him once. I went to NY to do hearings, and he was one of the attorneys. He dresses well and looks normal. Apparently, he's very intelligent. He got his BS in Psychology from UVA, Magna Cum Laude, and his law degree from Penn. If he didn't open his mouth, you'd never know how grossly dysfunctional he is.
I know, this blog is supposed to be about BP, and I'm ventilating about a problem hearing in NY. What's the hearing got to do with BP? Yes, I suppose you're right. This hearing is just a real and crushing drag. I'm stuck in the middle of it, and it's on my mind.
PS: The hearing is over. Hearings take anywhere from 15 minutes to an hour, with the occasional hearing taking an hour and a half. This one took just under four hours. What a waste of time and life. Though I'm sure the attorney would say he was only pursuing adequate advocacy for his client. He has not the slightest sense of proportion, and not much reality-testing, either.
He constantly interrupts those testifying, the judges, and the experts. He is rude and hostile, and he challenges everything. Everything! He accuses judges and medical experts of being biased. He even writes about this, and his flailings can be found on line. He raises his voice during hearings, talks over people, and seems devoted to derailing the hearings. It is not infrequent that judges will tell him he has to control himself, or they will suspend and have to reschedule the hearings. Hearings with him take significantly longer than with other attorneys, because he won't stay on track and/or shut up. Attorneys in New York are peculiarly uninhibited and combative, but this guy takes the cake.
Today, he stopped a hearing for a while, asserting that perhaps the recording might not be working. While this was being investigated, he took another swipe at the judge, noting that he recalled another time the recording failed "conveniently" at a time the judge "wanted the case to go away." As it turns out, the recording was working fine. It appears he invented his concern, to keep the hearing off balance. And never mind the vile accusation of the judge.
He's also an avid letter-writer to higher authorities. He has turned in judges for accusations of bias, and he once wrote to a judge to request that the judge surrender me to the Attorney General's Office for criminal investigation, based on his conclusion that I lied about something. Five of the judges in that office are being sued for bias. It appears this attorney is behind it.
This attorney is clearly a very disturbed person. He is belligerent, uncivilized, and seems to me to be almost paranoid. He is completely unmanageable in a hearing. And the funny thing is I met him once. I went to NY to do hearings, and he was one of the attorneys. He dresses well and looks normal. Apparently, he's very intelligent. He got his BS in Psychology from UVA, Magna Cum Laude, and his law degree from Penn. If he didn't open his mouth, you'd never know how grossly dysfunctional he is.
I know, this blog is supposed to be about BP, and I'm ventilating about a problem hearing in NY. What's the hearing got to do with BP? Yes, I suppose you're right. This hearing is just a real and crushing drag. I'm stuck in the middle of it, and it's on my mind.
PS: The hearing is over. Hearings take anywhere from 15 minutes to an hour, with the occasional hearing taking an hour and a half. This one took just under four hours. What a waste of time and life. Though I'm sure the attorney would say he was only pursuing adequate advocacy for his client. He has not the slightest sense of proportion, and not much reality-testing, either.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
What? We're Not Good Enough?
I wasn't expecting to submit a travelogue, but maybe it's not a bad idea. My most recent trip was to Kansas City and San Diego. Before that, it was Massachusetts, mostly the Berkshire towns in western Massachusetts. Last year, I was in Asheville NC. So what do all these places have in common? And why am I wasting your time telling you about them? They all have public art programs, mainly public sculpture. I bring them up, because they're sort of informal, as these things go. Boston has public sculpture. So does NYC. In fact, so does Miami Beach. And San Francisco. But these are more upscale programs, in a way. Lots of money spent, for juried or commissioned pieces.
Kansas City has loads of public sculpture. It's really quite surprising, and it exists throughout the city and even in neighboring municipalities. Much of it was donated by private wealthy people. The bigger and better pieces are wonderful. But there are also very many pieces which are frankly modest in themselves. Some of them are not much different from some of the garden statuary you can find at various locations in Miami. But given a bit of care about placement and surrounding shrubbery, even these pieces look impressive. Not always for what they are per se, but for the fact that they're there. They're like the difference between a blank wall in your home and a wall with a picture on it. Do you have any pictures on your walls at home? Did you pay thousands or many thousands or tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars for them at a prestigious art gallery or a high end auction? No? Oh, they're just pictures you happen to like, maybe even inexpensive reproductions or posters, and you like a bit of decor in your home? Right, some public art is just like that. There's lots like that in KC and environs. And bigger and more impressive pieces, too. I'm told KC has the second most fountains of any city in the world. Rome has more. Almost everywhere you look, there's something interesting. And beautiful. And the people of KC like it that way.
San Diego has less, but it's effective. There's one strip of sculptures along the wharf. No high art at all, but each piece interesting. And the aggregate is even better than the interesting pieces. Other pieces are scattered at various places in the city. There doesn't seem to be a concerted and pervasive plan, like there is in KC, but they certainly make their point.
Asheville is quite interesting. It's a relatively small and funky venue, and you sort of stumble onto things. The public outdoor sculpture in Asheville is distinctly funky. It's humorous and often unexpected. There's a real sense of playfulness about Asheville's sculpture. And there's more of it than you would think there would be in a town like that.
Pittsfield, Massachusetts, is a depressed city. They lost a huge employer in General Electric, and they never quite recovered. They seem to be working on it. They like their summer outdoor festivals, and they have overflow from the toney Berkshire crowd, but Pittsfield itself is distinctly blue collar, at best. High unemployment. So what on earth are they doing with so many pieces of outdoor public sculpture? Again, no high art. Just weird, sometimes funky, curious stuff, and it isn't all the same from one year to the next. You really want to drive through the center of downtown, just to see what they have this year. And you can't fully believe they take themselves that seriously. Or have quite that much pride. But apparently, they do.
And these are not the only places you find public art. We have some here. You know those huge fiberglass chickens that are painted in various ways? There's at least one on SW 8th Street. And other places. What, that's not public art? Says who? Of course it is. In the Berkshire towns, it's cows like that. And someplace else, I saw the same phenomenon, only sheep. OK, so it's not "high art." And your point is? It's diversity. It's intrigue. It's a kind of drama. Or it's cute, or funny, or charming. And it's interesting and engaging. It makes you want to look around, maybe wonder what's down the next street. It makes you think about the people. They like themselves, and the place they live. They have a special pride. They want life in their lives.
Now I couldn't prove this, it's just my impression, but it seems to me art like this adds real value to a place, too. Would I say to you that it specifically increases "property values?" No, I couldn't do that. I don't know if it does, or if anyone tried to study the question. But I will tell you that my reaction to the areas that want to feature public art is that they seem to have a special "value."
Right now, we in BP are sort of suffering a bit. Some of it is our own fault, and some isn't. The part that's not our fault is the foreclosures and bank-owned properties. No one even cuts the grass, and these properties are hurting. My own sense, and listening to what others say at Commission meetings and elsewhere, is that they're hurting all of us. What is our own fault is decrepit lawns, paint and other maintenance that isn't done, and miserable medians. I was on Planning and Zoning for a few years, and it's very clear to me that the policy-makers, and the enforcers, do not want to live in a run down environment. Neither do I. If anything, they want the Codes strengthened, and they want them enforced. We want to step it up, and have a neighborhood that pleases us and that we can be proud of.
We have a piece of public sculpture of our own. It's in "Griffing Park," just across 6th Avenue from the log cabin. But we're not limited to one sculpture. We could have as many as we want. As long as we're interested and willing to provide them for ourselves. We could have frequently occurring smaller concrete pieces, on every median, if we want, and/or we can have more attention-grabbing pieces, in large medians or any of our public places. All we need is interest, a certain amount of money, and a commitment from the Village to make the spaces available.
Have I sparked anyone's interest? I want to know about it if I have. I'm more than happy to help find pieces, collect money, and get us stuff. Or, the Foundation, if it raises enough money on a reliable and recurring basis, may want to begin a program of acquisition of public sculpture for us. Also, if we don't have enough money, many sculptors who make large and expensive pieces, will rent those pieces, usually for 10% of the purchase price per year. You can lease a piece for a year or two or so, then let it go and get something else. Or if we really liked something we leased, we could just finish paying for it and keep it.
So lemme know what you think.
Kansas City has loads of public sculpture. It's really quite surprising, and it exists throughout the city and even in neighboring municipalities. Much of it was donated by private wealthy people. The bigger and better pieces are wonderful. But there are also very many pieces which are frankly modest in themselves. Some of them are not much different from some of the garden statuary you can find at various locations in Miami. But given a bit of care about placement and surrounding shrubbery, even these pieces look impressive. Not always for what they are per se, but for the fact that they're there. They're like the difference between a blank wall in your home and a wall with a picture on it. Do you have any pictures on your walls at home? Did you pay thousands or many thousands or tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars for them at a prestigious art gallery or a high end auction? No? Oh, they're just pictures you happen to like, maybe even inexpensive reproductions or posters, and you like a bit of decor in your home? Right, some public art is just like that. There's lots like that in KC and environs. And bigger and more impressive pieces, too. I'm told KC has the second most fountains of any city in the world. Rome has more. Almost everywhere you look, there's something interesting. And beautiful. And the people of KC like it that way.
San Diego has less, but it's effective. There's one strip of sculptures along the wharf. No high art at all, but each piece interesting. And the aggregate is even better than the interesting pieces. Other pieces are scattered at various places in the city. There doesn't seem to be a concerted and pervasive plan, like there is in KC, but they certainly make their point.
Asheville is quite interesting. It's a relatively small and funky venue, and you sort of stumble onto things. The public outdoor sculpture in Asheville is distinctly funky. It's humorous and often unexpected. There's a real sense of playfulness about Asheville's sculpture. And there's more of it than you would think there would be in a town like that.
Pittsfield, Massachusetts, is a depressed city. They lost a huge employer in General Electric, and they never quite recovered. They seem to be working on it. They like their summer outdoor festivals, and they have overflow from the toney Berkshire crowd, but Pittsfield itself is distinctly blue collar, at best. High unemployment. So what on earth are they doing with so many pieces of outdoor public sculpture? Again, no high art. Just weird, sometimes funky, curious stuff, and it isn't all the same from one year to the next. You really want to drive through the center of downtown, just to see what they have this year. And you can't fully believe they take themselves that seriously. Or have quite that much pride. But apparently, they do.
And these are not the only places you find public art. We have some here. You know those huge fiberglass chickens that are painted in various ways? There's at least one on SW 8th Street. And other places. What, that's not public art? Says who? Of course it is. In the Berkshire towns, it's cows like that. And someplace else, I saw the same phenomenon, only sheep. OK, so it's not "high art." And your point is? It's diversity. It's intrigue. It's a kind of drama. Or it's cute, or funny, or charming. And it's interesting and engaging. It makes you want to look around, maybe wonder what's down the next street. It makes you think about the people. They like themselves, and the place they live. They have a special pride. They want life in their lives.
Now I couldn't prove this, it's just my impression, but it seems to me art like this adds real value to a place, too. Would I say to you that it specifically increases "property values?" No, I couldn't do that. I don't know if it does, or if anyone tried to study the question. But I will tell you that my reaction to the areas that want to feature public art is that they seem to have a special "value."
Right now, we in BP are sort of suffering a bit. Some of it is our own fault, and some isn't. The part that's not our fault is the foreclosures and bank-owned properties. No one even cuts the grass, and these properties are hurting. My own sense, and listening to what others say at Commission meetings and elsewhere, is that they're hurting all of us. What is our own fault is decrepit lawns, paint and other maintenance that isn't done, and miserable medians. I was on Planning and Zoning for a few years, and it's very clear to me that the policy-makers, and the enforcers, do not want to live in a run down environment. Neither do I. If anything, they want the Codes strengthened, and they want them enforced. We want to step it up, and have a neighborhood that pleases us and that we can be proud of.
We have a piece of public sculpture of our own. It's in "Griffing Park," just across 6th Avenue from the log cabin. But we're not limited to one sculpture. We could have as many as we want. As long as we're interested and willing to provide them for ourselves. We could have frequently occurring smaller concrete pieces, on every median, if we want, and/or we can have more attention-grabbing pieces, in large medians or any of our public places. All we need is interest, a certain amount of money, and a commitment from the Village to make the spaces available.
Have I sparked anyone's interest? I want to know about it if I have. I'm more than happy to help find pieces, collect money, and get us stuff. Or, the Foundation, if it raises enough money on a reliable and recurring basis, may want to begin a program of acquisition of public sculpture for us. Also, if we don't have enough money, many sculptors who make large and expensive pieces, will rent those pieces, usually for 10% of the purchase price per year. You can lease a piece for a year or two or so, then let it go and get something else. Or if we really liked something we leased, we could just finish paying for it and keep it.
So lemme know what you think.
Bada-Bing
Steve Bernard and I do not speak to each other. My best guess is that given an adequate opportunity, we might well not even like each other. This will come as a kind of surprise after the Commission meeting last night, where we seemed so well coordinated, as if we had been planning and rehearsing a show. It was, in its way, a bit like professional wrestling, where we seem to fight, but we are really acting a very carefully choreographed demonstration. So what did we demonstrate last night?
There was the build-up, of course. The pre-banter and the mutual dissing. Played out to the public over days, weeks, and months. Last night, we started with me for the evening's show. I gave my little speech, which I had written the week before and circulated, including to my partner, Commissioner Bernard. This works better if he knows what I'm going to say. So I said he was rigid, stubborn, contrary, disruptive, and uncooperative. It's the typical material he and I use. We find it works well for us. I said he would complain that he didn't have a fair chance to digest the budget, had too many unanswered questions, felt unaccommodated, was generally immature in his approach, and would ultimately vote against the budget. I threw in his junior partner as well, and Steve and I have come to have excellent confidence that the lad won't disappoint. So that was the set-up.
Then, it was my partner's turn. I only get three minutes, and he gets all night (mercifully shortened this time to 10 crushing minutes), so I think we can safely call his part of the demonstration the Steve Bernard Show, starring......Steve......Bernard! So he picks up his cues and explains that of course he has a million questions. He's already asked them, he admits, but they went unanswered. So he still has them. (We now make reference to what each other says, for thematic continuity and comic timing. Never mind; believe me, it works well.) So where I accuse him of getting ready to complain that he's been cheated out of time to study the budget and get answers to his questions, he then complains that he's been cheated out of time to study the budget and get answers to his questions. (We're trying to develop a variation where he blames me for the deprivation, but we haven't been able to come up with a mechanism. Yet.)
We had a few missteps last night, and we have to work them out. They were untidy. One was where I say he's had two months to study the budget and ask all his questions privately of the Manager and Finance Director. Well, the fact is he really didn't bother to discuss any of this with them, and I'm afraid he may have come out looking badly on this one. This is not good for the act. Also, he invokes the public interest and desire to know about the budget, and I clumsily pointed out that essentially no one came to the public workshops. In the past, he's whined that there wasn't adequate notification, people didn't know, the recording system wasn't working, or some other irrelevant or nonsensical tangent. But he sort of surrendered last night to my assertion that actually no one cares, and he's just talking to himself. We'll try to compose a better comeback for him next time.
So Steve continues on. The million questions, asked with hostile attitude; the undercurrent accusations and complaints of managerial misbehavior and incompetence; the references to inept and gullible colleagues; the disdain for the appalling lack of rigor in the entire pathetic system. Steve can do this in his sleep. He probably does. But it's not just content, which is beginning to get dangerously trite for him. He has a stage show to perform. After all, there are the imagined peeps out there. The fantasied adoring audience. The hypothetical beneficiaries of the pitbull advocacy he delivers. These aren't lines you simply read. You have to act them out. Out comes the interrupting, the badgering, the hectoring, and those trademark smirks. And the spitballs. Tom Cruise and Denzel have their mulitmillion dollar smiles. Our Steve has his spitballs. He nearly unnerved Roxy, and he threw Bob Anderson completely off track. Bob had to give up in disgust, having admittedly lost his train of thought. What a barrage. Better than Fourth of July fireworks. Al Childress was too far away, and he contented himself simply with telling Steve he had the floor. Yawn.
Then, we approach the end. Now I have to set this up right. It's way too good to mischaracterize. And I have an admission to make. I said far in advance, and in my preparatory words last night, that the Commission would pass the budget 3-2. I know: duh. But one of my friends bet me a bottle of scotch it would pass 4-1. What?!! 4-1?!! Who, I asked incredulously, is going to flinch? Cooper, said my friend. Nah, you're out of your mind. Cooper won't flinch. Cooper, "Dr No," doesn't even know what's going on. He has no reason to flinch. But no, my friend wouldn't flinch, either. He really thought he was getting a bottle off me. So here's where it gets good. Each Commissioner had his or her say, and a chance to make suggestions for the budget. My Steve started. Then it was Childress. Eventually, it was Cooper's turn. At some point, he let slip that he "couldn't vote for this budget because..." and I turned and gave my friend a smirk of my own. Now in the meantime, I'm actually getting worried. My Steve asked all his questions, and made many suggestions. But Roxy, who I thought was a friend, starts making sure Steve gets answers to his questions, and worse, she starts engineering that each of his requests is satisfied. Come on, Rox, I have a bottle of scotch riding on this. My friend didn't say the bet was about Cooper. He said it was about the vote. If it's any 4-1, I lose! And my so-called friend Roxy Ross is explicitly and completely openly trying to get Steve to find agreement with the budget. So he'll vote for it!! She said so!! You know how the car salesmen ask what they have to do to get you buy the car right now? Yeah, it was like that. Rox!! How can you do this to me? So Steve gets everything he wants. All questions answered. All requests accommodated. I'm sunk.
The vote gets taken, and it's..............3-2. Ahhhh. That's my boy. You can give him absolutely everything he wants, and he still won't be satisfied. The funny thing is, that's exactly what I said in my opening speech, but I forgot. I got a little panicked over the scotch, and I forgot the deal. This is Steve Bernard we're talking about here. It wasn't about the budget. It was just about rebelling.
So now, my friend can go buy me a bottle of Glenrothes, and everything will be right with the world. Thanks, partner.
There was the build-up, of course. The pre-banter and the mutual dissing. Played out to the public over days, weeks, and months. Last night, we started with me for the evening's show. I gave my little speech, which I had written the week before and circulated, including to my partner, Commissioner Bernard. This works better if he knows what I'm going to say. So I said he was rigid, stubborn, contrary, disruptive, and uncooperative. It's the typical material he and I use. We find it works well for us. I said he would complain that he didn't have a fair chance to digest the budget, had too many unanswered questions, felt unaccommodated, was generally immature in his approach, and would ultimately vote against the budget. I threw in his junior partner as well, and Steve and I have come to have excellent confidence that the lad won't disappoint. So that was the set-up.
Then, it was my partner's turn. I only get three minutes, and he gets all night (mercifully shortened this time to 10 crushing minutes), so I think we can safely call his part of the demonstration the Steve Bernard Show, starring......Steve......Bernard! So he picks up his cues and explains that of course he has a million questions. He's already asked them, he admits, but they went unanswered. So he still has them. (We now make reference to what each other says, for thematic continuity and comic timing. Never mind; believe me, it works well.) So where I accuse him of getting ready to complain that he's been cheated out of time to study the budget and get answers to his questions, he then complains that he's been cheated out of time to study the budget and get answers to his questions. (We're trying to develop a variation where he blames me for the deprivation, but we haven't been able to come up with a mechanism. Yet.)
We had a few missteps last night, and we have to work them out. They were untidy. One was where I say he's had two months to study the budget and ask all his questions privately of the Manager and Finance Director. Well, the fact is he really didn't bother to discuss any of this with them, and I'm afraid he may have come out looking badly on this one. This is not good for the act. Also, he invokes the public interest and desire to know about the budget, and I clumsily pointed out that essentially no one came to the public workshops. In the past, he's whined that there wasn't adequate notification, people didn't know, the recording system wasn't working, or some other irrelevant or nonsensical tangent. But he sort of surrendered last night to my assertion that actually no one cares, and he's just talking to himself. We'll try to compose a better comeback for him next time.
So Steve continues on. The million questions, asked with hostile attitude; the undercurrent accusations and complaints of managerial misbehavior and incompetence; the references to inept and gullible colleagues; the disdain for the appalling lack of rigor in the entire pathetic system. Steve can do this in his sleep. He probably does. But it's not just content, which is beginning to get dangerously trite for him. He has a stage show to perform. After all, there are the imagined peeps out there. The fantasied adoring audience. The hypothetical beneficiaries of the pitbull advocacy he delivers. These aren't lines you simply read. You have to act them out. Out comes the interrupting, the badgering, the hectoring, and those trademark smirks. And the spitballs. Tom Cruise and Denzel have their mulitmillion dollar smiles. Our Steve has his spitballs. He nearly unnerved Roxy, and he threw Bob Anderson completely off track. Bob had to give up in disgust, having admittedly lost his train of thought. What a barrage. Better than Fourth of July fireworks. Al Childress was too far away, and he contented himself simply with telling Steve he had the floor. Yawn.
Then, we approach the end. Now I have to set this up right. It's way too good to mischaracterize. And I have an admission to make. I said far in advance, and in my preparatory words last night, that the Commission would pass the budget 3-2. I know: duh. But one of my friends bet me a bottle of scotch it would pass 4-1. What?!! 4-1?!! Who, I asked incredulously, is going to flinch? Cooper, said my friend. Nah, you're out of your mind. Cooper won't flinch. Cooper, "Dr No," doesn't even know what's going on. He has no reason to flinch. But no, my friend wouldn't flinch, either. He really thought he was getting a bottle off me. So here's where it gets good. Each Commissioner had his or her say, and a chance to make suggestions for the budget. My Steve started. Then it was Childress. Eventually, it was Cooper's turn. At some point, he let slip that he "couldn't vote for this budget because..." and I turned and gave my friend a smirk of my own. Now in the meantime, I'm actually getting worried. My Steve asked all his questions, and made many suggestions. But Roxy, who I thought was a friend, starts making sure Steve gets answers to his questions, and worse, she starts engineering that each of his requests is satisfied. Come on, Rox, I have a bottle of scotch riding on this. My friend didn't say the bet was about Cooper. He said it was about the vote. If it's any 4-1, I lose! And my so-called friend Roxy Ross is explicitly and completely openly trying to get Steve to find agreement with the budget. So he'll vote for it!! She said so!! You know how the car salesmen ask what they have to do to get you buy the car right now? Yeah, it was like that. Rox!! How can you do this to me? So Steve gets everything he wants. All questions answered. All requests accommodated. I'm sunk.
The vote gets taken, and it's..............3-2. Ahhhh. That's my boy. You can give him absolutely everything he wants, and he still won't be satisfied. The funny thing is, that's exactly what I said in my opening speech, but I forgot. I got a little panicked over the scotch, and I forgot the deal. This is Steve Bernard we're talking about here. It wasn't about the budget. It was just about rebelling.
So now, my friend can go buy me a bottle of Glenrothes, and everything will be right with the world. Thanks, partner.
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