"Let's Take an Example, Just for Fun."

I took the title of this post from a song in the magnificent 1954 musical, "The Pajama Game."  The song, which is probably called "Picture This," is about an attempt to cure Heinzy, who is afraid that his gorgeous and sexy girlfriend will get interested in someone else, of his jealousy.  Heinzy is given hypothetical situations that are increasingly provocative ("let's take an example, just for fun"), and asked to overcome his reflex to be jealous.  "What would you do then, Heinzy?"  "I... would trust her...I'll never be jealous again."

Anyway, what I'm thinking about is the last Commission meeting, which I characterized as one in which the Commission had no idea what it was doing, essentially about anything.  I wasn't particularly specific about the Commission's aimless and reckless bumbling, but I thought now we could "take an example, just for fun."

As I mentioned, one of the issues discussed was a request by one of our neighbors to be allowed to keep chickens on the property.  We were told the neighbor's/applicant's daughter was anxious, and someone decided the only thing to be done for the young girl was to allow her to have pet chickens.  We were reassured that only hens, and no roosters, were requested.  We were also told that this request was supported by the child's pediatrician, who had submitted a letter concluding his patient should be allowed to have a pet chicken that we were supposed to think of as like a service animal, or at least a special companion pet, which thereby addressed the ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) consideration.  But here's the problem.

The county has a regulation against farm animals being kept in urban settings (chickens are specifically included among those animals considered farm animals, and Biscayne Park is considered an urban municipality), and there is another general rule that municipalities (cities, towns, and villages, in Florida) can be more restrictive than counties, but they can't be less restrictive.  What the Commission was being asked to do was to be less restrictive than the county.  So, on the surface of it, the correct response to the applicant/BP resident was to tell them to make their case to the county, not to the Village.  The Village could have supported the applicant's appeal to the county, by providing a letter of support and local agreement, but it could not have over-ruled the county's more restrictive position.  This, by implication, would have required the Village (and Tracy Truppman) to acknowledge that some other entity had more authority than we do/Tracy does, which for Tracy Truppman is a non-starter.  So we launched ourselves into a realm where we had no business being.

The applicant explained the girl's alleged medical/psychiatric situation, with some omissions and some distortions.  And in "full disclosure" here, let me say that as a personal matter, if I did not concern myself with rules, I would be very sympathetic to the applicant, our neighbor.  Hey, I like chickens vastly better than I like dogs and cats.  And anyway, it pleases the girl and her family, does not affect me at all, and frankly, what do I care if they have chickens?  But there are realities, too, and they include rules by which we all have to live together.  The applicant was playing a bit fast and loose with those rules, and with the presentation.  Our Village Code says a Village resident can have a maximum of four pets.  The applicant currently has eight chickens.  And it was more, except some died.  We were told the applicant's daughter had to have pet chickens, because she is allergic, or something, to "fur."  But I was also told privately, by someone I trust a great deal, that the family also have a pet cat.  The application to be allowed to keep the chickens, and the note from the pediatrician, all came only after the chickens/chicks had already been acquired.  The doctor didn't suggest chickens as a good idea.  The family already had them, and told the doctor they made the girl less anxious.  We were also told the girl needed protection from feelings of loss.  By having pet chickens?  How many decades does someone think they'll live?  No one suggested the girl would need to take her pet chickens to school, too.  So this was all very, very untidy.

Further, the applicant suggested that here in BP, the "bird sanctuary," we should naturally, by definition, welcome all birds.  If you can have a parakeet or a canary, then having a chicken (or an ostrich?) should be the same thing.  Like if you can have a dog, can you have a wolf or a hyena?  If you can have a (house) cat, can you have a lion or a tiger?  Come on.

And just as a different kind of illustration of the problem, Mac Kennedy spoke about a variance request, and this special request.  The variance request was about a shed and a pergola someone wanted to keep.  It wasn't clear if it was really allowed as it was built, but it was already there.  No, Mac insisted.  We have rules, and they must be followed.  The girl and her chickens?  Aw, Mac gushed, sure, let the girl keep her chickens.  That kind of inconsistency coming from Mac is more or less harmless.  But coming from an elected and paid Commission?  Uh, no.  But that's what we got.

And the Commission (really Tracy, who does all the talking) were all over the place.  Oh, you have chickens you're not supposed to have?  OK.  Oh, you have twice the maximum permitted number of them?  OK.  I/we get it.  This is medically necessary.  Hey, the ADA probably doesn't give us any choice.  But promise us that as the chickens die (what? the chickens that are supposed to protect the girl from loss are going to die?), they won't be replaced.  OK, said the applicant.  So, wait a minute.  If our theory is that pet chickens are a medical necessity for this girl, how can we then prevent her from replacing them, when they...die?

Not one bit of this made any sense.  The Commission doesn't make any sense.  It has no idea what it's doing.  And that was my point.

Blah, Blah, Blah, Grr, Grr, Blah

What a waste of four hours.  Wow, did I just say four hours?  And this is time that I can't, as they say, get back.  Amazing.

Gosh, mused Tracy "Big Mama" Truppman, I wonder if the attorney has any thoughts about what to do about public comment, so we can, you know, be respectful of things like variance presentations, that shouldn't be kept waiting for hours.  Hmm, Madame Mayor, said Rebecca Rodriguez, I'm wondering about-- I mean, just off the top of my head-- maybe putting public comment deeper into the agenda?  How about that, attorney Rodriguez, you think of everything, gushed the grateful Big Mama.  Except, of course, that Tracy had telegraphed this scheme a week or two ago, so we all knew she would jettison public comment until late enough that maybe not too many people would be there any more.  Which is partially what happened.  So slimy.  Eww.   Tracy continues on her campaign to shut out and shut down her neighbors, so they can't speak, and if they do, they won't get any response.  But she's not just picking on us.  She does the same thing to her colleague, Dan Samaria.

At one point, Dan wanted to discuss the still deflected matter of the illegally postponed March 5 meeting.  Ah, just a minute there, Commissioner, said Rebecca Rodriguez.  Your colleagues and the manager have all lawyered up over this, so it's unlikely (impossible) anyone will talk about it.  You'll be talking to yourself.  What would you say to, um, postponing this inquiry?  Yeah, OK, surrendered Dan.  They do have their way with old Dan Samaria.

Tracy heard about it, too, from several of her neighbors.  Whoa, there!  No, I'm not suggesting she cared at all.  I'm just saying a number of her neighbors spit into the wind about Tracy and her ongoing assault on the Park and its inhabitants.  Dan Samaria is increasingly beaten down, and he didn't get to present anything he had in mind.  And Betsy Wise was way too bored to do anything but "concur" with whatever Tracy said.  I didn't get the sense Betsy was actually listening, or heard, or cared, but she was always there at the ready with her concurring vote.  The same exact thing went for Jenny Johnson-Sardella.  She very clearly doesn't know what's going on, and she just takes direction from Tracy.  Will Tudor is still out there, trying at times to seem relevant, but not really persuading.  Tracy took the lead in voting against someone's shed.  She didn't think it met items 1, 2, or 4 of the special questions.  Betsy voted no, too, because she didn't think the situation met items 1, 2, or 4.  Jenny couldn't agree to the shed, because she felt the applicants hadn't met items 1, 2, or 4.  Will?  Um, no, considering items 1, 2, and 4.  See what I mean?

Essentially nothing got accomplished.  The troupe bumbled around a variance and a special request to allow some allegedly anxious girl to keep chickens, but they very clearly don't know what they're doing.

Did anyone complain?  Sure.  But they got ignored, as usual.  And Tracy had good old Mike Redmond, and good old Charlie Easton, to criticize anyone who didn't like bad, ineffective, and illegal government.  Yuck, said Mike and Charlie.  We hate complainers like that.

Did I mention what a waste of time this Commission meeting was?