In The Pajama Game, Hinesie is given increasingly challenging situations to try to accept, so that he won't be so jealous regarding Gladys and other men. "I'll never be jealous again," he concludes.
So I am challenged, and have challenged myself, to be nicer in these posts. "That's my plan," as Hinesie says. Hinesie succeeded, with Mabel's guidance. I'm afraid I didn't.
The Commission meeting was tonight. I had it in mind to be nice and relatively non-judgmental. The agenda seemed short, so I thought maybe I could handle it. And we started with a lot of presentations and proclamations. Feel good stuff. A very nice goodbye to Mitch Glansberg, our beloved Police Chief, a nice tribute to Officer Guillermo Ravelo, who did a wonderful thing for two mischief-making boys, perhaps saving at least one of their lives, a nice little tribute to Jacobs' kid and her class at the elementary school, and stuff like that. You know, nice stuff.
The Consent Agenda passed unanimously. We're coasting. Nice.
Then, we hit some unexpected turbulence. There was an Ordinance about the Code Enforcement Board. Substantively, I don't think anyone had any real issues. But two members of the Code Enforcement Board were there, and boy, did they complain. Not about the substance of the Ordinance and the changes it would have mandated, but about the fact that the Code Enforcement Board was never approached about any of this. They were quite properly offended. So the Commission, in what remained of its wisdom, agreed to table the matter for a month or two, so the Code Enforcement Board could be presented with the Ordinance and could agree to it. Which I'm quite sure they will. It was what John Hearn, in a slightly different context, called "all due respect." Yup, that's all it was. Just a matter of respect.
Crash helmet on? Here we go. The next matter was a second reading of another Ordinance. Commissioner Dr Cooper, who got himself attached to the prior Ordinance for some reason, and was apparently not in favor of this one, suggested that if it was protocol and courtesy to refer the last Ordinance to the appropriate Board, and delay action on it, then it must be equal protocol and courtesy to defer this one, too. He cited "consistency" of approach. And His Highness the Mayor enthusisatically agreed. OK, children, you made your point. This one deferred as well.
The next Ordinance was about a Charter Review Committee. This one was a bit hot, with most non-Commissioner resident speakers speaking against the Committee. But the juggernaut wanted it. Roxy Ross, who never fails to impress, suggested that if the other two Ordinances were deferred for committee scrutiny, then this one should be, too. To what committee, the now increasingly challenging, dismissive, and ugly Mayor/President/Czar asked? To the Code Review Committee, replied Commissioner Ross. Oh, you want to form a new committee to consider a committee, the now increasingly irrational Mayor/Fuhrer retorted? Huh? The Code Review Committee isn't a new committee. It's already there. But no, the Mayor was gone. You couldn't talk to him any more. He just spat and railed. And he was not, he told us, a slave to "consistency." All of a sudden, it seems.
But before there could even be any discussion on the matter, there was a decision to make regarding composition of the Charter Review Committee. Should it have five members, nine members, seven members? And by what method should these members be chosen? This went on longer than you might suppose. But finally, there was a vote. It was agreed 4-1 that there should be seven members. Except the Mayor decided the vote really was to approve the whole Ordinance. Commissioner Ross said she didn't think so, and that it was only to approve the amendment about composition. Wrong, said the Mayor, and he was done with the Ross girl. In fact, he had already had a discussion about the Ross wench with Commissioner Watts, with his back to the Ross filly the whole time. At one point, she called the question, which His Majesty calls "calling for the question," and he backed her off, telling her that only he calls the question.
You think I'm overdramatizing, right? Consider that not only did the Ross thing get so disgusted that she had to get up and walk out of the meeting for a while, but Watts spent part of one of the two breaks (yes, two breaks) throwing up in the ladies' room. OK, you got it?
The guy was in high dudgeon. He was nasty, suppressing, and all his good stuff. But there was an important difference tonight. He gave us the understanding we have been lacking. He threw the Ross skirt a snide little swipe, telling her he knows she's suffering from not being the Mayor any more. So that's what this has all been about. He has been trying for months to rub her nose in his unseating her. Is it just plain childishness, or does he feel self-conscious and possibly a little embarrassed about his assumption of the center seat? I hope it's the former, because if he has any fantasy that he could ever, under any circumstances at all, come close to being the quality Mayor Roxy Ross was, he's kidding himself badly. He's a sad, sad figure, who has shown this Village shocking disrespect, and compounds the insult every month.
So I'm sorry I wasn't nice. It wasn't possible this time. I promise to try again next time.
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