I got the e-mail blast, but I didn't check the Village website. So I knew Joe Centorino, the head of the County's Ethics Commission, was coming to talk to us about ethical standards and practices, but I didn't know Ana Garcia was formally presenting the update on the Log Cabin. It seems I wasn't the only one whose anticipation was incomplete. The audience included, let's see, well, there was Linda Dillon, then, um, oh yeah, Chuck Ross and Janey Anderson, and, wait a minute now, oh, right, me. So a pretty good crowd.
Mr Centorino has given this talk many times to many groups. He's given it at least twice to us. I was there for both, and this was a quickie refresher, streamlined to only one hour. OK, it took about an hour and three quarters. At the beginning of the Log Cabin presentation, at 8:00, I asked John Hearn if he thought it would take about 15 minutes. He said normally it would, but this was BP, so I should check back with him at 10. So it was something like that.
The ethics presentation was very standard for Centorino and his partner Thompson. I think we've actually all heard it before. So no news, and presumably not much on anyone's mind. Except Bryan Cooper. He seems to have had some concerns about "Sunshine" and "liaisons," as Centorino calls them. Sometimes we use the word conduits. Bryan was very interested in social media. I guess he's a very social guy. And his weren't necessarily simple and elementary questions. In fact, sometimes, they weren't questions at all. He seemed to have wanted to set something up, or put Centorino on notice. Now just as a frame of reference, Joe Centorino is an attorney hired by Dade County to head its Ethics Commission. He's been doing this for many years. Not only will he cite you chapter and verse, but he has quite a catalogue of stories of investigations and prosecutions, and a real finger on the pulse of where the boundaries are, how blurry are some of the lines, and what is required to keep oneself clean. He has a very broad perspecitive in this area. Bryan Cooper, Dr Bryan Cooper, has a PhD in American Studies, and his job is as a librarian at one of the local colleges. Try to form an image of Bryan asking what turns out to be a rhetorical question of Centorino, then explaining to Centorino what the real rights and prerogatives are.
And of course, Bryan does not leave this topic without also checking about just one more little matter. What if the Village Manager...? Have you ever seen a dog sniffing a tree, or a pile of some other dog's excrement? Do you wonder what it is they're trying to detect? Doesn't all dog excrement smell pretty much like all other dog excrement? Is it really important to check that pile, too? If I say "Heads Up" again, will I be harping? Or is this really only about one Bryan Cooper, and whatever special scent he detects in what looks to everyone else like a pile of routine manure?
Then, there was meeting #2. It was the update about our Log Cabin renovation. Ana Garcia and Roxy Ross appealed to the State Legislature, and Daphne Campbell, and got us a public grant of $150K to renovate this historic structure. And it desperately needs it. The plan may be to make the Village Hall into a building we can use for public meetings, as it was once used. It's too small to contain our administrative services as well, at least all of them, so some consideration was given to an alternative site. This is all preliminary and is up for ongoing consideration and reconsideration.
$150K will not cover it. Not even close. So we need more money. Of course there was the usual talk about getting more "grants" from someone other than ourselves, but there was also the idea, floated by Ana, of selling bricks which will be used to pave the front walk. Hospitals, the Arsht Center, and everyone else in the world does it, and why shouldn't we. It's a terrific way to raise money, and most or all of the money will come from us. Which is as it should be. It's our Village, our Village Hall, and we should have personal pride and sense of ownership about it.
I took a slight liberty. I didn't exactly contrive this opportunity. It was placed in my lap by Ana, who mentioned that she was planning to meet with the Foundation, to ask it to join the fund-raising effort for the Log Cabin renovation. So I decided to create a little commercial for our Foundation. "Our," as in belonging to the residents of Biscayne Park. I felt since this was a noticed and recorded meeting, I might as well place the Foundation on record. So I repeated the request for $20 per household per year, the Foundation's efforts to raise money, and what has become a somewhat more difficult-than-expected matter of getting those $20 from everyone I ask. My thought was to have the Commission join the fund-raising, not only by pitching the Foundation the $20 themselves, but by my asking them to send a reminder and some encouragement to their own circulation lists. As it happens, Bob Anderson has already given me $20 for this year. So has Chuck Ross, Roxy's husband. I mentioned both. I took the chance to ask the other three Commissioners for their $20. How those scamps slipped away without donating is beyond me. I wonder if I did something wrong. I mentioned the Foundation. I said Ana had already mentioned it and would be asking the Foundation for help with raising funds. I said it was in the Village's interest. And I addressed the request to the people who might be assumed to have a particularly high level of devotion to the Village.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Staying Out of the Line of Fire, and Not Making Messes
Yesterday afternoon, we had a Crime Watch "meeting." It was a gathering at the corner of 118th Street and 11th Place. About 22 people attended, including our Police Chief, Mitch Glansberg, and two of our Reserve Officers. Not only was the meeting well-attended, but those who were there were interested and had things to say. We talked about a number of crime-related topics. One thing we talked about was how to stay safe, as "crime watchers," and a related topic was guns.
In the news, there have been three very recent stories about guns. One is about the soldier who went on a killing spree in Afghanistan, murdering Afghan civilians. He seems to have "cracked." Another was about a French man who also went on a killing spree, this time against Jews. The last I heard, this morning, he was holed up in his apartment, had killed some policemen as well, and was reportedly still well-armed. It isn't much of a mystery where this is going.
The last very recent story comes from Florida. A man named George Zimmerman, who lives in Sanford, confronted a kid named Trayvon Martin, who was visiting family and was from Miami Gardens, and shot him dead. Although Zimmerman claims "self-defense," or some variation on the theme of protecting his property or turf, it appears quite clear Martin was in no way armed, nor was he in any way threatening or a threat to Zimmerman. Or anyone else. What he had in his hands at the moment he was murdered by Zimmerman was a bag of potato chips and a soft drink.
The easy conclusion to draw is that people + guns = nothing good. And my personal opinion is that that is patently and unassailably true. If you have a gun, get rid of it. Statistics show that the most likely things that will come of your gun ownership are 1) nothing, 2) the gun will be stolen by someone robbing your house, or 3) some innocent person, maybe a kid, will mistakenly be killed or maimed by it. The thing that almost never ever happens is that you will use the gun successfully to protect yourself. But as I say, that's the easy conclusion. And of course, I neglected to mention that a result of your gun ownership might be that you will amuse yourself at a shooting range, but you don't need a gun in your house for that.
What's much harder is what is happening, and will happen, with George Zimmerman. The soldier will be tried and either executed or imprisoned for life. He'll say he has PTSD and a head injury, and maybe he does. The French guy will not get out of the standoff with police alive. But George Zimmerman has a real problem, and he is a real problem.
I feel confident to say that we will never know what Zimmerman is thinking and feeling. We won't know if he feels badly about what happened, and about what he did. Right now, he is very much under the gun, and it will get worse for him, as the whole country, and soon enough the State of Florida, agitate for him to be arrested and arraigned. He will get very caught up trying to defend himself, for real this time, and he will try to convince anyone he can that Martin really was threatening. He'll tell himself and everyone else stories until he, himself, believes them. He has no viable choice. He's a 20-something kid, who seems to think he's some kind of cowboy or vigilante, and he walks around with a concealed pistol, which use he deliberately anticipated and wanted to legitimize by getting a permit for it. This was a disaster waiting to happen, and it happened to Trayvon Martin. It couldn't really have gone any other way. And if this story was about George Zimmerman, it wouldn't much be worth telling. But there are lots of George Zimmermans in the world. And for who knows what reasons (Michael Moore couldn't ultimately explain it in Bowling for Columbine), they seem to be concentrated in this country. George Zimmerman got himself, and Trayvon Martin, into this mess with a certain mindset, and he'll have it throughout. In a sense, he can't get out of this alive either. Part of his mind is undeveloped or paralyzed, and in that way, he is not salvageable. And circumstances are not on his side. Everything happening to him now, and everything that will happen to him, push him further still out on the limb he already occupies. If somehow he should get acquitted, or not indicted, he will tell himself he was right, and everyone agrees with him, and the world is as dangerous a place as he knew it was, and black people are as ill-meaning as he thought. If he is tried and convicted, he will decide the world is a worse place than he thought, that the country is made up of politically correct idiots, and that he has been made a sacrifice by them. Scheming and fighting against black convicts in prison? Um, I think so.
So Mitch Glansberg had a piece of advice for us yesterday. Look around, see what's going on, and take note of anything that doesn't look right to you. If you see something you don't like, or that you're not sure about, call 911. And don't worry, you're doing the right thing. People who are perfectly innocent will be treated very respectfully and wished a good day. Others will be addressed as you would want them addressed. But don't get cocky. Don't be a cowboy or cowgirl. Don't directly confront people or follow them. Take a surreptitious photograph, especially of a license plate, or write down what you see. AND CALL 911!! But leave policing to the police. They know how, they're very good at it, and it's what we pay them for. That's what Mitch says.
In the news, there have been three very recent stories about guns. One is about the soldier who went on a killing spree in Afghanistan, murdering Afghan civilians. He seems to have "cracked." Another was about a French man who also went on a killing spree, this time against Jews. The last I heard, this morning, he was holed up in his apartment, had killed some policemen as well, and was reportedly still well-armed. It isn't much of a mystery where this is going.
The last very recent story comes from Florida. A man named George Zimmerman, who lives in Sanford, confronted a kid named Trayvon Martin, who was visiting family and was from Miami Gardens, and shot him dead. Although Zimmerman claims "self-defense," or some variation on the theme of protecting his property or turf, it appears quite clear Martin was in no way armed, nor was he in any way threatening or a threat to Zimmerman. Or anyone else. What he had in his hands at the moment he was murdered by Zimmerman was a bag of potato chips and a soft drink.
The easy conclusion to draw is that people + guns = nothing good. And my personal opinion is that that is patently and unassailably true. If you have a gun, get rid of it. Statistics show that the most likely things that will come of your gun ownership are 1) nothing, 2) the gun will be stolen by someone robbing your house, or 3) some innocent person, maybe a kid, will mistakenly be killed or maimed by it. The thing that almost never ever happens is that you will use the gun successfully to protect yourself. But as I say, that's the easy conclusion. And of course, I neglected to mention that a result of your gun ownership might be that you will amuse yourself at a shooting range, but you don't need a gun in your house for that.
What's much harder is what is happening, and will happen, with George Zimmerman. The soldier will be tried and either executed or imprisoned for life. He'll say he has PTSD and a head injury, and maybe he does. The French guy will not get out of the standoff with police alive. But George Zimmerman has a real problem, and he is a real problem.
I feel confident to say that we will never know what Zimmerman is thinking and feeling. We won't know if he feels badly about what happened, and about what he did. Right now, he is very much under the gun, and it will get worse for him, as the whole country, and soon enough the State of Florida, agitate for him to be arrested and arraigned. He will get very caught up trying to defend himself, for real this time, and he will try to convince anyone he can that Martin really was threatening. He'll tell himself and everyone else stories until he, himself, believes them. He has no viable choice. He's a 20-something kid, who seems to think he's some kind of cowboy or vigilante, and he walks around with a concealed pistol, which use he deliberately anticipated and wanted to legitimize by getting a permit for it. This was a disaster waiting to happen, and it happened to Trayvon Martin. It couldn't really have gone any other way. And if this story was about George Zimmerman, it wouldn't much be worth telling. But there are lots of George Zimmermans in the world. And for who knows what reasons (Michael Moore couldn't ultimately explain it in Bowling for Columbine), they seem to be concentrated in this country. George Zimmerman got himself, and Trayvon Martin, into this mess with a certain mindset, and he'll have it throughout. In a sense, he can't get out of this alive either. Part of his mind is undeveloped or paralyzed, and in that way, he is not salvageable. And circumstances are not on his side. Everything happening to him now, and everything that will happen to him, push him further still out on the limb he already occupies. If somehow he should get acquitted, or not indicted, he will tell himself he was right, and everyone agrees with him, and the world is as dangerous a place as he knew it was, and black people are as ill-meaning as he thought. If he is tried and convicted, he will decide the world is a worse place than he thought, that the country is made up of politically correct idiots, and that he has been made a sacrifice by them. Scheming and fighting against black convicts in prison? Um, I think so.
So Mitch Glansberg had a piece of advice for us yesterday. Look around, see what's going on, and take note of anything that doesn't look right to you. If you see something you don't like, or that you're not sure about, call 911. And don't worry, you're doing the right thing. People who are perfectly innocent will be treated very respectfully and wished a good day. Others will be addressed as you would want them addressed. But don't get cocky. Don't be a cowboy or cowgirl. Don't directly confront people or follow them. Take a surreptitious photograph, especially of a license plate, or write down what you see. AND CALL 911!! But leave policing to the police. They know how, they're very good at it, and it's what we pay them for. That's what Mitch says.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
So Here's Where I Get Confused.
We have heard, ad nauseum, some complaints from a few of our neighbors. Until recently, those neighbors couldn't do more than complain. But three of them, a majority, are now on the Commission. They can do whatever they want. So what I'm confused about is why they don't simply change what they complained they didn't like.
Let's take a few examples. For two years, we heard nonstop crying about the minutes. And not only crying. This was portrayed as a very serious issue that undermined every concept of good government, deprived "posterity" of a true record, and frankly reflected critical and anti-democratic mischief on the part of those who didn't expand the minutes. Charges of nearly criminal mischief were made. But over the course of the past four months, these champions of openness, transparency, and justice have done nothing to improve the record. Nothing. They didn't even add a few corrections, as the recent minority always claimed it wanted to do.
Also over the past two years, we heard great criticism about the Village newsletter. Charges again, of course, this time of suppression, not only of the Commissioners who no longer had their own individual platforms in the newsletter, but of the public, who could no longer know what their elected officials thought. First Amendment suppression, thought control, take your pick. And again, four months later and not a single mention of the newsletter.
For two years, we were asked to appreciate how the general residents of the Village were ignored. There was an indictment of a brutish and suppressing Commission (at least a dictatorial majority of the Commission; at least a vile and tyrannical Mayor) that suppressed public input. Examples of public input that was ignored included petitions alluded-to by one Commissioner or another, though no such petitions were ever submitted for anyone's examination or the public record, and electronic outreach from residents of the neighborhood, though curiously, this outreach was apparently made only to one Commissioner. When I have thoughts or suggestions for the Commission, I send e-mails to all of the Commissioners. And the Manager, too. I don't really understand the mindset of someone who is alleged to have important input, but who tells it to only one of five Commissioners. Or the mindset of that one Commissioner who evidently doesn't ask the correspondent to send the suggestion to the other Commissioners. But now that the good guys are in the drivers' seats, we find that they, or at least the Mayor, is no more interested in increased public input than he complains his predecessor was. He even admits so! He also doesn't respond to e-mail. The two remaining suppressing brutes do, but the Mayor and one of his pals completely ignore anything I send. The other good guy (gal) will rarely but occasionally write back to say "Thanks," but there's no comment or discussion. And petitions? I hope I had fun putting it together and spending my time walking parts of the neighborhood to get it signed, because there was essentially no acknowledgement, and no action taken.
Two of our past Commissioners (one still there) and the two newcomers expressly take a very dim view of FPL and its intrusions into the neighborhood. What they had to do to confront this was to plan how to replace the Franchise Fee, and how the Village could go into the electric power production business, since these were the foci of complaint. There has been not one shred of action, or even a word of further discussion, about either task.
So I'm at a loss as to how to understand the complaints. Were they just idle complaints about which the plaintiffs didn't really even care? Do they just like to hear themselves whine? Or was it just something to rally around, for the sake of the rally?
Let's take a few examples. For two years, we heard nonstop crying about the minutes. And not only crying. This was portrayed as a very serious issue that undermined every concept of good government, deprived "posterity" of a true record, and frankly reflected critical and anti-democratic mischief on the part of those who didn't expand the minutes. Charges of nearly criminal mischief were made. But over the course of the past four months, these champions of openness, transparency, and justice have done nothing to improve the record. Nothing. They didn't even add a few corrections, as the recent minority always claimed it wanted to do.
Also over the past two years, we heard great criticism about the Village newsletter. Charges again, of course, this time of suppression, not only of the Commissioners who no longer had their own individual platforms in the newsletter, but of the public, who could no longer know what their elected officials thought. First Amendment suppression, thought control, take your pick. And again, four months later and not a single mention of the newsletter.
For two years, we were asked to appreciate how the general residents of the Village were ignored. There was an indictment of a brutish and suppressing Commission (at least a dictatorial majority of the Commission; at least a vile and tyrannical Mayor) that suppressed public input. Examples of public input that was ignored included petitions alluded-to by one Commissioner or another, though no such petitions were ever submitted for anyone's examination or the public record, and electronic outreach from residents of the neighborhood, though curiously, this outreach was apparently made only to one Commissioner. When I have thoughts or suggestions for the Commission, I send e-mails to all of the Commissioners. And the Manager, too. I don't really understand the mindset of someone who is alleged to have important input, but who tells it to only one of five Commissioners. Or the mindset of that one Commissioner who evidently doesn't ask the correspondent to send the suggestion to the other Commissioners. But now that the good guys are in the drivers' seats, we find that they, or at least the Mayor, is no more interested in increased public input than he complains his predecessor was. He even admits so! He also doesn't respond to e-mail. The two remaining suppressing brutes do, but the Mayor and one of his pals completely ignore anything I send. The other good guy (gal) will rarely but occasionally write back to say "Thanks," but there's no comment or discussion. And petitions? I hope I had fun putting it together and spending my time walking parts of the neighborhood to get it signed, because there was essentially no acknowledgement, and no action taken.
Two of our past Commissioners (one still there) and the two newcomers expressly take a very dim view of FPL and its intrusions into the neighborhood. What they had to do to confront this was to plan how to replace the Franchise Fee, and how the Village could go into the electric power production business, since these were the foci of complaint. There has been not one shred of action, or even a word of further discussion, about either task.
So I'm at a loss as to how to understand the complaints. Were they just idle complaints about which the plaintiffs didn't really even care? Do they just like to hear themselves whine? Or was it just something to rally around, for the sake of the rally?
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Addendum about the School Post, and about Another Little Matter.
I hope I can be delicate about this. I probably can't.
A very few months ago, I reported about a little rumor I heard. Part of it had to do with our Manager, and some crosshairs. I got a certain amount of flak for that post.
So at the church/school informational meeting, the topic came up about whether the c/s was supposed to inform the neighborhood about the meeting. They promised they would, and they pretty much didn't. According to what one of them said, they managed to inform maybe a couple hundred of our 3000 residents. I don't know what the method of outreach was, but they didn't inform me. I got notice about it from two of the Commissioners.
At this meeting two days ago, Bryan Cooper made a complaint about the lack of notice of the meeting. The c/s was supposed to inform everyone, but Bryan wasn't complaining that they didn't. He mentioned that only a small segment of the Village was informed by the "blast" e-mails from Commissioners, but he wasn't exactly complaining about that, either. (He, himself, perhaps, did not bother to inform anyone. I certainly didn't get notice from him.)
Nope, Bryan complained that the Village Manager failed to inform everyone. He complained that one of the few people whose job it wasn't to inform the neighborhood didn't inform the neighborhood.
So just remember: Heads Up. I'm just sayin'...
A very few months ago, I reported about a little rumor I heard. Part of it had to do with our Manager, and some crosshairs. I got a certain amount of flak for that post.
So at the church/school informational meeting, the topic came up about whether the c/s was supposed to inform the neighborhood about the meeting. They promised they would, and they pretty much didn't. According to what one of them said, they managed to inform maybe a couple hundred of our 3000 residents. I don't know what the method of outreach was, but they didn't inform me. I got notice about it from two of the Commissioners.
At this meeting two days ago, Bryan Cooper made a complaint about the lack of notice of the meeting. The c/s was supposed to inform everyone, but Bryan wasn't complaining that they didn't. He mentioned that only a small segment of the Village was informed by the "blast" e-mails from Commissioners, but he wasn't exactly complaining about that, either. (He, himself, perhaps, did not bother to inform anyone. I certainly didn't get notice from him.)
Nope, Bryan complained that the Village Manager failed to inform everyone. He complained that one of the few people whose job it wasn't to inform the neighborhood didn't inform the neighborhood.
So just remember: Heads Up. I'm just sayin'...
Saturday, March 10, 2012
OK, I Want the School. (Is That What I'm Supposed to Say?)
Excellent and compelling presentation today from Father Cutie, Rolando Llanes, and Mater President Antonio Roca. They told us all about the proposed school. Or at least as much as they possibly could.
Let's start with history. The Village has been here since 1933. The Church since 1940. It was a time, we're reminded, when a community was built around its church. The Village didn't have the population then that it does now, and it may well be that everyone in town went to church. That church. Our church. The one that was no doubt for "white" people. I don't know if they had those "No Jews" signs then, like they did on Miami Beach, but they might have. But anyway, it was a happy time. And it results in our having our very own and beloved church. It's true that it isn't well attended any more (better since our local celeb Alberto Cutie took the pulpit), and the vast majority of BPers don't go there, but it's still our church.
Let's now jump forward right to today. Or maybe last year. Someone was in a hurry to get a school in there, and the original proposal was nearly on-the-spot. The plan was for a month from our having been informed, so as to ensure proper care in the preparation. (Quickly, children, quickly now!) There was some information our Commission wanted, though, and it asked the church/school to provide it. Those were the old days, when that version of Bryan Cooper was demanding "five-year business plans" and other documentation and precautions the new Bryan Cooper doesn't care about. The c/s never gave us what we wanted, and a proposed workshop was thus cancelled. Somehow, this coincided with a delay from the c/s' end, too, and the matter lay dormant until a couple of months ago. Back came Cutie/Llanes. They're set to go ahead, and are ready to answer questions. The biggest question was who is the target audience, and most specific questions would come from residents: those whose Village would be invaded by a school, and who would perhaps send their children to one. So Cutie/Llanes were to send out a flyer, and we planned an informational meeting. That meeting happened today.
Well-attended? You bet! The room was packed. It would have a bit less packed without some of the ringers and shills. Like the snickering, applauding woman who doesn't live in BP, but goes to the church, and might be planning to move to BP, maybe if we had a school for her kids... Or the guy from Miami Shores who's on the Board of Mater Academy... Father Cutie, demonstrating some of his charm, commented on the new faces. Many of them were new to me, too.
So the watchword of the day was "choice." We don't have enough school choice, so we're told. We have WJ Bryan on 125th St, MS Elementary School less than a mile over the bridge (those are free), St Rose, Miami Country Day, and a Montessori school a few blocks over the bridge, another elementary school about a mile down 103rd Street, another elementary or middle school, Gratigny, on 119th west of us, and a Charter School with a Montessori component on 86th and NE 8th Avenue, so about 2-3 miles away. The last three are free. But we need more. We don't have, for example, a free Charter school for K-5 in walking distance and within Biscayne Park. Something like that would really round out the choice nicely. Until the kids hit 6th grade, at which point we have a crisis on our hands.
But for now, people like choice. The people with the kids did. And we were put on notice by some of those people, too. Like the woman who threatened not to move here if we don't have a school in the church. And John Mayhew, who said people are moving out of BP, because we don't have a proper school for their children. I think John Mayhew needs to talk to Carmen De Bernardi. She says people moved away, because Roxy Ross is a tyrant and a dictator. I thought maybe the economy and foreclosures, but what do I know?
Anyway, we need choice, and we need to establish a K-5 Charter School here to provide that choice. So here's what I'm thinking. If that's what we need, and we don't have enough choice without it, maybe we need more houses of worship, too. One church, and it's Episcopal? What if our people are Catholic, like Chester Morris? Chester has to drive over the bridge and fight that school traffic to go to St Rose. Shouldn't we have a Catholic church here in BP? We don't have any Baptists, or Lutherans, or Methodists? I'm guessing there must be some Jews, now that they're allowed to live here. How about a Temple? Three, I'm thinking, for the Orthodox, the Conservatives, and the Reforms. Oh, wait, the Hasids. Which leaves a glaring neglect of the Muslims, both Sunni and Shia. And shouldn't we disguise them all for the sake of the atheists?
Dizzying, right? In the meantime, we have to decide how big this one school should be. A charter school in BP for how many kids, exactly? Well, they're waiting for us to tell them what we need. What we need? Nothing. This was their idea, not ours. They somehow figured out the K-5 part, so shouldn't they decide how many of us there are? I suggested they should (long ago) have sent a survey to every house, to see who lives there, how long they've lived there, how many kids they have, of what ages, to what kind of school they send them or are planning to, and whether they plan to walk their kids to school (this was a primary consideration in view of the imagined traffic problem, though one speaker calculated that the influx of new kids going to a newly founded school would lessen the traffic). Mr Llanes thought this survey might be one way to find out. Is there some other way? Is there any other way? And why they haven't yet done this thing that was the only way to answer the only real question was unrevealed. So until the c/s does the only thing anyone can do, it's a standoff.
But we did agree about one thing: some people want a school in BP. As it turns out, some people don't want a school in BP, too, so I'm not sure where that leaves us.
We are also encouraged to consider some of the indirect advantages of a K-5 Charter school. Like an increase in property values. This idea was proposed. And it's an interesting idea. Would a school, of any kind, increase property values? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it would lower property values. I suspect that in reality, no one knows. What about a micro shopping mall, high end stuff, arranged as booths or kiosks around the park? Would that increase property values? Should we look into it? And our own Whole Foods? In discussing the easy and pure advantage of our new school, as the c/s pitched it, I informed them that something as seemingly uncomplicated as replacing a few wood telephone poles with a few concrete ones was the cause of essentially tragic discord here, and that simply popping up a new school for us might not be so inconspicuous or noncontroversial. And "property values" infected the telephone pole matter, too. Some thought harsh-appearing concrete poles would lower property values. Others thought sturdier and longer lasting concrete poles might raise property values. So I think the real answer is a resounding "Who knows?"
But here was my underlying and sustaining thought about the school, and the church. As Father Cutie correctly put it, the church is the only non-residential, non-Village structure in BP. We say BP is purely residential, which it almost is with the exception of the church, our Village Hall, the recreation center/park, and the public works building. So why do we want to compound an error, the error being to contaminate a peculiarly purely residential neighborhood with a church? If a church somehow made sense in about 1940, in a new municipality, it doesn't any more. I told the c/s people my idea: that they should sell off what they can, we would buy them out of the rest, and they can take the show just over the bridge and build whatever church and school they want. They told me to forget it.
So since we're getting the school, whether we like it or want it or not, I think I should allow myself to enter the trance and come to like the idea. By the way, Mr Llanes acknowledged that of course it isn't up to us, and of course the church and the school will decide, but he wanted us to experience it as less of a steamroller job than that. He wanted us all to pretend it was collaborative.
Let's start with history. The Village has been here since 1933. The Church since 1940. It was a time, we're reminded, when a community was built around its church. The Village didn't have the population then that it does now, and it may well be that everyone in town went to church. That church. Our church. The one that was no doubt for "white" people. I don't know if they had those "No Jews" signs then, like they did on Miami Beach, but they might have. But anyway, it was a happy time. And it results in our having our very own and beloved church. It's true that it isn't well attended any more (better since our local celeb Alberto Cutie took the pulpit), and the vast majority of BPers don't go there, but it's still our church.
Let's now jump forward right to today. Or maybe last year. Someone was in a hurry to get a school in there, and the original proposal was nearly on-the-spot. The plan was for a month from our having been informed, so as to ensure proper care in the preparation. (Quickly, children, quickly now!) There was some information our Commission wanted, though, and it asked the church/school to provide it. Those were the old days, when that version of Bryan Cooper was demanding "five-year business plans" and other documentation and precautions the new Bryan Cooper doesn't care about. The c/s never gave us what we wanted, and a proposed workshop was thus cancelled. Somehow, this coincided with a delay from the c/s' end, too, and the matter lay dormant until a couple of months ago. Back came Cutie/Llanes. They're set to go ahead, and are ready to answer questions. The biggest question was who is the target audience, and most specific questions would come from residents: those whose Village would be invaded by a school, and who would perhaps send their children to one. So Cutie/Llanes were to send out a flyer, and we planned an informational meeting. That meeting happened today.
Well-attended? You bet! The room was packed. It would have a bit less packed without some of the ringers and shills. Like the snickering, applauding woman who doesn't live in BP, but goes to the church, and might be planning to move to BP, maybe if we had a school for her kids... Or the guy from Miami Shores who's on the Board of Mater Academy... Father Cutie, demonstrating some of his charm, commented on the new faces. Many of them were new to me, too.
So the watchword of the day was "choice." We don't have enough school choice, so we're told. We have WJ Bryan on 125th St, MS Elementary School less than a mile over the bridge (those are free), St Rose, Miami Country Day, and a Montessori school a few blocks over the bridge, another elementary school about a mile down 103rd Street, another elementary or middle school, Gratigny, on 119th west of us, and a Charter School with a Montessori component on 86th and NE 8th Avenue, so about 2-3 miles away. The last three are free. But we need more. We don't have, for example, a free Charter school for K-5 in walking distance and within Biscayne Park. Something like that would really round out the choice nicely. Until the kids hit 6th grade, at which point we have a crisis on our hands.
But for now, people like choice. The people with the kids did. And we were put on notice by some of those people, too. Like the woman who threatened not to move here if we don't have a school in the church. And John Mayhew, who said people are moving out of BP, because we don't have a proper school for their children. I think John Mayhew needs to talk to Carmen De Bernardi. She says people moved away, because Roxy Ross is a tyrant and a dictator. I thought maybe the economy and foreclosures, but what do I know?
Anyway, we need choice, and we need to establish a K-5 Charter School here to provide that choice. So here's what I'm thinking. If that's what we need, and we don't have enough choice without it, maybe we need more houses of worship, too. One church, and it's Episcopal? What if our people are Catholic, like Chester Morris? Chester has to drive over the bridge and fight that school traffic to go to St Rose. Shouldn't we have a Catholic church here in BP? We don't have any Baptists, or Lutherans, or Methodists? I'm guessing there must be some Jews, now that they're allowed to live here. How about a Temple? Three, I'm thinking, for the Orthodox, the Conservatives, and the Reforms. Oh, wait, the Hasids. Which leaves a glaring neglect of the Muslims, both Sunni and Shia. And shouldn't we disguise them all for the sake of the atheists?
Dizzying, right? In the meantime, we have to decide how big this one school should be. A charter school in BP for how many kids, exactly? Well, they're waiting for us to tell them what we need. What we need? Nothing. This was their idea, not ours. They somehow figured out the K-5 part, so shouldn't they decide how many of us there are? I suggested they should (long ago) have sent a survey to every house, to see who lives there, how long they've lived there, how many kids they have, of what ages, to what kind of school they send them or are planning to, and whether they plan to walk their kids to school (this was a primary consideration in view of the imagined traffic problem, though one speaker calculated that the influx of new kids going to a newly founded school would lessen the traffic). Mr Llanes thought this survey might be one way to find out. Is there some other way? Is there any other way? And why they haven't yet done this thing that was the only way to answer the only real question was unrevealed. So until the c/s does the only thing anyone can do, it's a standoff.
But we did agree about one thing: some people want a school in BP. As it turns out, some people don't want a school in BP, too, so I'm not sure where that leaves us.
We are also encouraged to consider some of the indirect advantages of a K-5 Charter school. Like an increase in property values. This idea was proposed. And it's an interesting idea. Would a school, of any kind, increase property values? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it would lower property values. I suspect that in reality, no one knows. What about a micro shopping mall, high end stuff, arranged as booths or kiosks around the park? Would that increase property values? Should we look into it? And our own Whole Foods? In discussing the easy and pure advantage of our new school, as the c/s pitched it, I informed them that something as seemingly uncomplicated as replacing a few wood telephone poles with a few concrete ones was the cause of essentially tragic discord here, and that simply popping up a new school for us might not be so inconspicuous or noncontroversial. And "property values" infected the telephone pole matter, too. Some thought harsh-appearing concrete poles would lower property values. Others thought sturdier and longer lasting concrete poles might raise property values. So I think the real answer is a resounding "Who knows?"
But here was my underlying and sustaining thought about the school, and the church. As Father Cutie correctly put it, the church is the only non-residential, non-Village structure in BP. We say BP is purely residential, which it almost is with the exception of the church, our Village Hall, the recreation center/park, and the public works building. So why do we want to compound an error, the error being to contaminate a peculiarly purely residential neighborhood with a church? If a church somehow made sense in about 1940, in a new municipality, it doesn't any more. I told the c/s people my idea: that they should sell off what they can, we would buy them out of the rest, and they can take the show just over the bridge and build whatever church and school they want. They told me to forget it.
So since we're getting the school, whether we like it or want it or not, I think I should allow myself to enter the trance and come to like the idea. By the way, Mr Llanes acknowledged that of course it isn't up to us, and of course the church and the school will decide, but he wanted us to experience it as less of a steamroller job than that. He wanted us all to pretend it was collaborative.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Hoo-boy.
In a funny kind of way, it's usually not hard to write these posts. The material is relatively clear, and it's just a matter of how to set it out. And I usually have a kind of confidence that there's an identifiable difference between the sane and the insane, the real and the fictional. And that anyone could tell which was which.
Well, the inmates are now running the asylum. There is no reason, no rationality. Consistency is gone. This is frankly Kafkaesque. You can pretty much take your pick. Barbara and Bryan want to tell the County to reverse its vote on a matter having to do with Matheson Hammock. That's Coral Gables. And their sentiments were in support of the people of Coral Gables, at least as Barbara and Bryan portrayed them. But they don't represent Coral Gables. They don't live there. And most of the time, they say they don't want to get mixed up with other, remote jurisdictions. What's it to do with us, they usually deflect. Noah is along for the majority ride. So they made their Resolution. 3-2. Three to two used to feel like a droning oppression to Bryan, and his sponsor, or so they said, but now it's a satisfying accomplishment.
Bryan had some idea that we had finally paid a price for the FPL Franchise Agreement. He had to invent part of it to get where he wanted to go, but he was clearly pleased. He decided that if people had solar panels, and made enough electricity to sell back to the grid, then we would be violating the Agreement he just knew was a bad thing. Never mind that no one makes that much electricity (that many panels would be prohibitively expensive) and that the Agreement doesn't say that at all, and neither did the FPL representatives. He just felt he was somehow right about something. And no one could tell him different.
Oh, those minutes. Once again, approved unanimously and without correction, but somehow complained about anyway. (So if there's a complaint, why don't you correct the minutes? No response.) But Bryan and his uncle spent so much time and effort alleging terrible things about the minutes, he and his pals decided they must do something. So they proposed the Clerk should do some different kind of minutes. Not "summary," and not verbatim. But something else. OK, she asked, what kind of minutes do you want? "Substantive" minutes. "What are 'substantive' minutes?" "Well, they're minutes with more stuff in them than the minutes you do." "Stuff like what?" They couldn't really say. They finally decided that they would submit what gems from their comments they wanted in the minutes, and that would make them substantive. But really, they never wanted anything, except to complain. That's all this was ever about. There was loads of complaint, and whining, and blaming, when there was a safe minority. But now that the minority is a majority, they don't really want anything. Those several amendments and additions that used to be portrayed as so critical? Nope, not necessary. The kids'll just make extra work for the Clerk, and that will seem like a victory of some sort.
Now here was an illustrative event that happened during the battle of the minutes. Bryan referred to an important example of minutes: those of 4/7/09. Hmm, why that date in particular? Well, Bob couldn't comment on those minutes, because he didn't have them, from three years ago. Noah did, right with him. Really? Noah just happened to have a spare copy of those three year old minutes, the ones Bryan just happened to mention? Isn't that interesting! Roxy thought so, and she said as much. Noah immediately raised his voice and raised his hand to "swear" there had been no communication between himself and Bryan before the meeting. "Protest too much?" Whoa! He didn't say why he happened to have those minutes. Bryan offered a possible explanation: maybe a "resident" happened to write to Commissioners to comment about those minutes. "The 'resident' didn't send those minutes to me," Roxy pointed out. Well, explained Bryan, maybe the "resident" only wrote to certain Commissioners, maybe only those who could be counted on to be sympathetic. Man, was this getting flakier and flakier. They really do think we're idiots.
The will of the people, and petitions: I presented one tonight. It asked the Commission to direct the Biscayne Times no longer to deposit the paper in everyone's yard. It was signed by 118 people, which represented about 80-90% of those I asked. I went door-to-door. I submitted the petition to the Clerk. The Commission didn't respond. Yet. So later, Noah complained that the last Commission ignored the will of the people, as represented by some petitions. This is a bit tricky, since no other petition has been made a part of the public record. We asked, but the champion of those petitions, Steve Bernard, took them away with him and wouldn't show them to anyone. So at some point, there was a discussion of moving Village elections from "stand alone" elections, that get remarkably miserable turnout and cost a good deal of money, to the same ballot as the general elections. Now this was tricky for the new majority. They usually claim to favor the will of the people and inclusive government, but they thwart it as much as possible. Asking them to remedy poor voter participation is like asking legislators to make laws against special interest money. How can they: it's what got them elected. They're supposed to place the will of the people above their own offices? I wouldn't think so. (Noah let slip, in that adorable, sheepish way of his, that he's already thinking about his run for re-election.) Oh, the song and dance. The celebration of the single focus; no distraction by thinking about the President or Senators or Governor or State legislators. Noah wanted to know if voters get "fatigue" from looking at too many elections. Charlie Smith, the Finance Director, told him they don't, when it comes to candidates, but Noah had already decided they do. No, he decided, we should keep our little single-focus elections. And Noah completely rejected the idea that anyone could overlook the fact that we were having an election: the signs, the talk... This is Noah Jacobs we're talking about. This is the guy who found out the electric poles were being changed, when he discovered the new one in his front yard one day. He hadn't heard the endless talk, or the discussions at Commission meetings, or read about it in his mail (twice), or noticed those three little stakes in his front yard for two months. Frankly, I would have expected him to be a bit more sympathetic to residents who overlooked that we were having an election. So no, the new majority decided we shouldn't move the election. Well, what about asking the people? How about a petition drive (Bryan suggested!)? Nope, not that either, concluded Noah. Referendum, Noah? No, no, no! Noah was crashing tonight. He was dramatically losing interest in that voice and will of the people he once thought, or claimed, he cared about. I pointed out to him that he apparently really didn't want more public participation, and he told me I was "right." Think not? Check the recording.
And Bryan concluded that saving money was an unimportant reason to move the election. The several thousand dollars we would save each time are a small amount. This is Bryan Cooper we're talking about. He's one of the guys who can have a fit over a nickel he can't trace. The one who's constantly talking about saving, and not wasting, money.
And this is how it went. It was a long, sad, uselss night. But the good news is that the voters are finally getting what they want. Their representatives are spreading their wings, and showing who and what they are. Mindless puppets, pretty clearly, with the puppet master at home. Maybe ventriloquism. They don't listen, and they don't care. They have their few little agenda items, which they are now fulfilling. These turn out to be remarkably small and narrow people. Of course, they're at the disadvantage of trying to fulfill someone else's goals. They themselves don't appear to have any. You can see them delivering the speeches someone wrote for them. It was really kind of sickening.
Well, the inmates are now running the asylum. There is no reason, no rationality. Consistency is gone. This is frankly Kafkaesque. You can pretty much take your pick. Barbara and Bryan want to tell the County to reverse its vote on a matter having to do with Matheson Hammock. That's Coral Gables. And their sentiments were in support of the people of Coral Gables, at least as Barbara and Bryan portrayed them. But they don't represent Coral Gables. They don't live there. And most of the time, they say they don't want to get mixed up with other, remote jurisdictions. What's it to do with us, they usually deflect. Noah is along for the majority ride. So they made their Resolution. 3-2. Three to two used to feel like a droning oppression to Bryan, and his sponsor, or so they said, but now it's a satisfying accomplishment.
Bryan had some idea that we had finally paid a price for the FPL Franchise Agreement. He had to invent part of it to get where he wanted to go, but he was clearly pleased. He decided that if people had solar panels, and made enough electricity to sell back to the grid, then we would be violating the Agreement he just knew was a bad thing. Never mind that no one makes that much electricity (that many panels would be prohibitively expensive) and that the Agreement doesn't say that at all, and neither did the FPL representatives. He just felt he was somehow right about something. And no one could tell him different.
Oh, those minutes. Once again, approved unanimously and without correction, but somehow complained about anyway. (So if there's a complaint, why don't you correct the minutes? No response.) But Bryan and his uncle spent so much time and effort alleging terrible things about the minutes, he and his pals decided they must do something. So they proposed the Clerk should do some different kind of minutes. Not "summary," and not verbatim. But something else. OK, she asked, what kind of minutes do you want? "Substantive" minutes. "What are 'substantive' minutes?" "Well, they're minutes with more stuff in them than the minutes you do." "Stuff like what?" They couldn't really say. They finally decided that they would submit what gems from their comments they wanted in the minutes, and that would make them substantive. But really, they never wanted anything, except to complain. That's all this was ever about. There was loads of complaint, and whining, and blaming, when there was a safe minority. But now that the minority is a majority, they don't really want anything. Those several amendments and additions that used to be portrayed as so critical? Nope, not necessary. The kids'll just make extra work for the Clerk, and that will seem like a victory of some sort.
Now here was an illustrative event that happened during the battle of the minutes. Bryan referred to an important example of minutes: those of 4/7/09. Hmm, why that date in particular? Well, Bob couldn't comment on those minutes, because he didn't have them, from three years ago. Noah did, right with him. Really? Noah just happened to have a spare copy of those three year old minutes, the ones Bryan just happened to mention? Isn't that interesting! Roxy thought so, and she said as much. Noah immediately raised his voice and raised his hand to "swear" there had been no communication between himself and Bryan before the meeting. "Protest too much?" Whoa! He didn't say why he happened to have those minutes. Bryan offered a possible explanation: maybe a "resident" happened to write to Commissioners to comment about those minutes. "The 'resident' didn't send those minutes to me," Roxy pointed out. Well, explained Bryan, maybe the "resident" only wrote to certain Commissioners, maybe only those who could be counted on to be sympathetic. Man, was this getting flakier and flakier. They really do think we're idiots.
The will of the people, and petitions: I presented one tonight. It asked the Commission to direct the Biscayne Times no longer to deposit the paper in everyone's yard. It was signed by 118 people, which represented about 80-90% of those I asked. I went door-to-door. I submitted the petition to the Clerk. The Commission didn't respond. Yet. So later, Noah complained that the last Commission ignored the will of the people, as represented by some petitions. This is a bit tricky, since no other petition has been made a part of the public record. We asked, but the champion of those petitions, Steve Bernard, took them away with him and wouldn't show them to anyone. So at some point, there was a discussion of moving Village elections from "stand alone" elections, that get remarkably miserable turnout and cost a good deal of money, to the same ballot as the general elections. Now this was tricky for the new majority. They usually claim to favor the will of the people and inclusive government, but they thwart it as much as possible. Asking them to remedy poor voter participation is like asking legislators to make laws against special interest money. How can they: it's what got them elected. They're supposed to place the will of the people above their own offices? I wouldn't think so. (Noah let slip, in that adorable, sheepish way of his, that he's already thinking about his run for re-election.) Oh, the song and dance. The celebration of the single focus; no distraction by thinking about the President or Senators or Governor or State legislators. Noah wanted to know if voters get "fatigue" from looking at too many elections. Charlie Smith, the Finance Director, told him they don't, when it comes to candidates, but Noah had already decided they do. No, he decided, we should keep our little single-focus elections. And Noah completely rejected the idea that anyone could overlook the fact that we were having an election: the signs, the talk... This is Noah Jacobs we're talking about. This is the guy who found out the electric poles were being changed, when he discovered the new one in his front yard one day. He hadn't heard the endless talk, or the discussions at Commission meetings, or read about it in his mail (twice), or noticed those three little stakes in his front yard for two months. Frankly, I would have expected him to be a bit more sympathetic to residents who overlooked that we were having an election. So no, the new majority decided we shouldn't move the election. Well, what about asking the people? How about a petition drive (Bryan suggested!)? Nope, not that either, concluded Noah. Referendum, Noah? No, no, no! Noah was crashing tonight. He was dramatically losing interest in that voice and will of the people he once thought, or claimed, he cared about. I pointed out to him that he apparently really didn't want more public participation, and he told me I was "right." Think not? Check the recording.
And Bryan concluded that saving money was an unimportant reason to move the election. The several thousand dollars we would save each time are a small amount. This is Bryan Cooper we're talking about. He's one of the guys who can have a fit over a nickel he can't trace. The one who's constantly talking about saving, and not wasting, money.
And this is how it went. It was a long, sad, uselss night. But the good news is that the voters are finally getting what they want. Their representatives are spreading their wings, and showing who and what they are. Mindless puppets, pretty clearly, with the puppet master at home. Maybe ventriloquism. They don't listen, and they don't care. They have their few little agenda items, which they are now fulfilling. These turn out to be remarkably small and narrow people. Of course, they're at the disadvantage of trying to fulfill someone else's goals. They themselves don't appear to have any. You can see them delivering the speeches someone wrote for them. It was really kind of sickening.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Please, Sir, May I Have Some... More?
We really don't have a lot to work with here, as these things go. We're a small community, and we're functionally limited. I mentioned this before, but the fact is we provide almost exclusively for ourselves. About 87% of our revenues come right from us: from property taxes, utility taxes, and a few other assessments we make against ourselves as neighbors. We provide our own administration, our own police force, and our own public works. There are things we don't have, because we can't afford them. It would appear that we were at a disadvantage, or that we had ourselves at a disadvantage, by keeping ourselves on something of a shoestring. Unless we wanted it this way. And there's some evidence that some of us might.
There's a proportion of the neighborhood that likes an insular feel. "Open" internally, but closed to the outside world. There's almost an "us/them" posture for some of us. Some years ago, we lowered the speed limit: to make it difficult enough to drive here that outsiders wouldn't "cut through." Some of us have thought of our public park as an invitation to outsiders, and have wanted it altered, to make it less inviting. The basketball goals were briefly removed, so people shouldn't have a reason to come to the park. There was some talk about allowing the grass to deteriorate, so people wouldn't be encouraged to come play field sports here. One Commissioner had the idea to charge for parking at the park, which would either raise money (I know, not much, but that was the proposal), or discourage people who lived far enough to have to drive, from using our park. There was some talk of closing streets. There's been a subtle theme of converting "Don't Even Think About Speeding" to "Don't Even Think About Coming, or Stopping."
So when we have needs, it is left to us ourselves to meet them. If our public buildings need repair or renovation, we need primarily to rely on ourselves to provide the money. Who else would support a municality whose welcome sign says "Keep Out?" (I don't mean that concretely. Our actual Village sign is quite beautiful. And not off-putting at all.) If we want better medians, our special feature, we have to raise the money ourselves. If we don't, the medians will look like... Well, watch dogs leave the medians, and figure out for yourself what they look like. If we want public enrichment through public art, some of us independently have to donate the funds.
We have incorporated a Village Foundation, whose mission it is to raise money for special improvement projects within the Village. One of the methods the Foundation uses to raise money is to ask each Village household to donate $20 per year. I know, it sounds silly and unambitious to ask only $20 per household per year. Most of us piss away more than that per week, without flinching or even noticing. But the curious fact is that if every household (household, not person) gave the Foundation $20 just once every year, the Foundation would collect $26,000 per year for special projects to improve and enrich the Village. We could do some interesting damage with $26K per year. And that's based only on someone flipping us a crumpled twenty once a year. Having spent a little time going door-to-door, I'm embarrassed to tell you how many people "don't have" $20, or have to think about it, or have to talk to their spouses/partners about it, or need a compelling enough reason to give me $20 for the municipality in which they themselves choose to live. Presumably because they like it.
And we have other methods of raising money. We have "Food and Tunes" evenings, where we beg for those $20s, and sell 50/50 raffle tickets, either to the same people who gave us the $20 per year, or to those outsiders some of us don't want here. We're now planning a fund-raising "gala." Perhaps I shouldn't say this publicly, but there has been some serious negotiating as to how much we should charge for tickets, not to inhibit residents from coming to the fund-raiser. (It's a fund-raiser! We're supposed to charge a lot. That's how you raise funds at a gala! Oy!) The other day, I was talking to one of our neighbors about a road race she hopes to enter. On the 7-mile bridge in the Keys. Tee-shirts and everything. That's a long way to go to enter a road race, isn't it? So she and I were talking about doing our own VBP road race. We'll do our own tee-shirts. She even had ideas. And MSV/MSCC wouldn't help us set up a golf tournament? Of course they would.
So what could we do with the money? We could resurface the tot lot, which is currently surfaced with a combination of mulch and animal excrement, and garnished with cigarette butts. We could begin median improvements. We could get serious about public art. We could have addtional, smaller scale entry signs at various points of Village entry. We could begin a grand plan for our historical and architectural treasure: the log cabin. And the addition it needs. And here's another thing we could do. We have trouble with the eastern border. The trains make a racket, and the elevated expanse and the tracks seem to provide good cover and opportunity for "visitors" who really aren't welcome. Not the ones who like sports. The ones who come here to make trouble and steal stuff. So what we need is a tall and dense wall, maybe made of concrete. Or even made of an impassible thicket of arecas or bamboo. That's what we need. And since the FEC doesn't care and isn't mandated, we need to spring for that ourselves.
So do we really want to live like this? Like disadvantaged beggars whose only choice is to "rely on the kindness of strangers," or do without? It's our home. We're all here for a very particular reason. And I hope it's not because misery loves company.
Can I make a request? It's 2012. Can I have $20 from every homeowner I know, and would every homeowner who gives me the $20 ask each of his/her neighbors to do the same? I know, I'm on the Foundation, and you're not. It's my job, and not yours. But we're all just neighbors. It's every bit as much your neighborhood as it is mine. What benefits the neighborhood, and our neighbors, benefits us. And you. So give me the $20. Cash or check (to the Biscayne Park Foundation). I need a name, an address, and an e-mail address, so we have you on our circulation. It's how we'll keep you informed of Foundation doings. And how I'll track you down in 2013, when I want another $20.
You can give the money and the personal information to me, Steve Taylor, Supreme Dorvil, Priscilla Blake, or Victor Romano.
There's a proportion of the neighborhood that likes an insular feel. "Open" internally, but closed to the outside world. There's almost an "us/them" posture for some of us. Some years ago, we lowered the speed limit: to make it difficult enough to drive here that outsiders wouldn't "cut through." Some of us have thought of our public park as an invitation to outsiders, and have wanted it altered, to make it less inviting. The basketball goals were briefly removed, so people shouldn't have a reason to come to the park. There was some talk about allowing the grass to deteriorate, so people wouldn't be encouraged to come play field sports here. One Commissioner had the idea to charge for parking at the park, which would either raise money (I know, not much, but that was the proposal), or discourage people who lived far enough to have to drive, from using our park. There was some talk of closing streets. There's been a subtle theme of converting "Don't Even Think About Speeding" to "Don't Even Think About Coming, or Stopping."
So when we have needs, it is left to us ourselves to meet them. If our public buildings need repair or renovation, we need primarily to rely on ourselves to provide the money. Who else would support a municality whose welcome sign says "Keep Out?" (I don't mean that concretely. Our actual Village sign is quite beautiful. And not off-putting at all.) If we want better medians, our special feature, we have to raise the money ourselves. If we don't, the medians will look like... Well, watch dogs leave the medians, and figure out for yourself what they look like. If we want public enrichment through public art, some of us independently have to donate the funds.
We have incorporated a Village Foundation, whose mission it is to raise money for special improvement projects within the Village. One of the methods the Foundation uses to raise money is to ask each Village household to donate $20 per year. I know, it sounds silly and unambitious to ask only $20 per household per year. Most of us piss away more than that per week, without flinching or even noticing. But the curious fact is that if every household (household, not person) gave the Foundation $20 just once every year, the Foundation would collect $26,000 per year for special projects to improve and enrich the Village. We could do some interesting damage with $26K per year. And that's based only on someone flipping us a crumpled twenty once a year. Having spent a little time going door-to-door, I'm embarrassed to tell you how many people "don't have" $20, or have to think about it, or have to talk to their spouses/partners about it, or need a compelling enough reason to give me $20 for the municipality in which they themselves choose to live. Presumably because they like it.
And we have other methods of raising money. We have "Food and Tunes" evenings, where we beg for those $20s, and sell 50/50 raffle tickets, either to the same people who gave us the $20 per year, or to those outsiders some of us don't want here. We're now planning a fund-raising "gala." Perhaps I shouldn't say this publicly, but there has been some serious negotiating as to how much we should charge for tickets, not to inhibit residents from coming to the fund-raiser. (It's a fund-raiser! We're supposed to charge a lot. That's how you raise funds at a gala! Oy!) The other day, I was talking to one of our neighbors about a road race she hopes to enter. On the 7-mile bridge in the Keys. Tee-shirts and everything. That's a long way to go to enter a road race, isn't it? So she and I were talking about doing our own VBP road race. We'll do our own tee-shirts. She even had ideas. And MSV/MSCC wouldn't help us set up a golf tournament? Of course they would.
So what could we do with the money? We could resurface the tot lot, which is currently surfaced with a combination of mulch and animal excrement, and garnished with cigarette butts. We could begin median improvements. We could get serious about public art. We could have addtional, smaller scale entry signs at various points of Village entry. We could begin a grand plan for our historical and architectural treasure: the log cabin. And the addition it needs. And here's another thing we could do. We have trouble with the eastern border. The trains make a racket, and the elevated expanse and the tracks seem to provide good cover and opportunity for "visitors" who really aren't welcome. Not the ones who like sports. The ones who come here to make trouble and steal stuff. So what we need is a tall and dense wall, maybe made of concrete. Or even made of an impassible thicket of arecas or bamboo. That's what we need. And since the FEC doesn't care and isn't mandated, we need to spring for that ourselves.
So do we really want to live like this? Like disadvantaged beggars whose only choice is to "rely on the kindness of strangers," or do without? It's our home. We're all here for a very particular reason. And I hope it's not because misery loves company.
Can I make a request? It's 2012. Can I have $20 from every homeowner I know, and would every homeowner who gives me the $20 ask each of his/her neighbors to do the same? I know, I'm on the Foundation, and you're not. It's my job, and not yours. But we're all just neighbors. It's every bit as much your neighborhood as it is mine. What benefits the neighborhood, and our neighbors, benefits us. And you. So give me the $20. Cash or check (to the Biscayne Park Foundation). I need a name, an address, and an e-mail address, so we have you on our circulation. It's how we'll keep you informed of Foundation doings. And how I'll track you down in 2013, when I want another $20.
You can give the money and the personal information to me, Steve Taylor, Supreme Dorvil, Priscilla Blake, or Victor Romano.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Let's Talk About Something Else
I don't have the stomach for this. It was yet another ridiculous meeting. The Village Attorney runs them, with Roxy Ross providing backup. Bryan Cooper wants to know which way the wind is blowing, so he can go the other way. Which he sometimes has to contradict himself to do. Barbara Watts has that perpetual deer-caught-in-the-headlights look. Steve Bernard thought he had terrorized his peeps into voting against the fence ordinance, with his usual razzle-dazzle, except Noah backed himself into voting for it, thus creating a majority that finally approved the Ordinance. Steve had a word with Noah after the meeting was over.
But here was the interesting material: father Cutie and his posse, comprised of Mr Llanes, the "Principal" of the proposed Mater Academy Charter School. Yup, still on the drawing board.
Cutie started. He presented a problem, and its solution. But he didn't see it. He said the poor Church of the Resurrection can't afford all the maintenance it has to do, then he indicated the Church, or the Diocese, owns a house it doesn't occupy and a school building where there is no school. I would have called that pretty elementary arithmetic: sell the house and the building, and use the money to preserve the Church. No? Less useless real estate, which the Church doesn't need, and more money, which the Church does need. If I'm missing something, I hope someone will tell me what it is. But the Church is still trying to contort this into something else, like creating a school that has nothing to do with a church, and foisting it on a neighborhood that doesn't want it. Must be that "new math."
Enter Mr Llanes. He starts out by talking about this school we're supposed to absorb. And appreciate. So Roxy Ross, and the Village Attorney, remind him that we stopped considering this last year, because the Village paid attention, and spent money, but the Mater people never presented what they were supposed to provide for the Village. Something about a business plan that Bryan thought was essential last year, but thinks is unnecessary now, and four other kinds of requested documentation. Roxy suggested to Llanes that we were done exerting ourselves, if the school, and the Church, weren't going to specify what their vision was. They should have done a demographic analysis, to see what our potential student population is. But Llanes said he couldn't tell us what range of schooling they were proposing, until they knew from us what our need was.
Huh? Our need? We don't have a need. This all started with their proposing a school to us. We didn't ask for a school. Somehow, Llanes twisted this whole thing around.
And then, he got into a fencing match about the Codes. When we asked for a business plan, or a five-year plan/projection, he wanted to know if those kinds of requirements were in our Code. Very crafty. And sarcastic. Well, here's what's in the Code about schools: They're not allowed. End of story. Sort of. If a school already existed, it would be non-conforming, but it would be grandfathered in, so it could stay. But Cutie had already said the education building wasn't being used, so the school is back out. If a non-conforming use is surrendered or inactive for six months, the grandfathering becomes void.
But the school/Church has an ace up its joint sleeve. The right-wing government of our State has enabled a collusion between Charter schools and certain other enterprises, like churches, so that they no longer have to follow land use codes at all. They only have to follow building codes. So the Church and the school are free to tell us they're done playing with us, and we're getting the school, whether we need it or like it or not. In the spirit of full disclosure, I'm thinking of telling them that, at the informational get-together they wangled out of us.
Cutie mentioned that he doesn't want the Church to leave the Park. I wonder how much company he has. Apparently not enough to fill a church.
But here was the interesting material: father Cutie and his posse, comprised of Mr Llanes, the "Principal" of the proposed Mater Academy Charter School. Yup, still on the drawing board.
Cutie started. He presented a problem, and its solution. But he didn't see it. He said the poor Church of the Resurrection can't afford all the maintenance it has to do, then he indicated the Church, or the Diocese, owns a house it doesn't occupy and a school building where there is no school. I would have called that pretty elementary arithmetic: sell the house and the building, and use the money to preserve the Church. No? Less useless real estate, which the Church doesn't need, and more money, which the Church does need. If I'm missing something, I hope someone will tell me what it is. But the Church is still trying to contort this into something else, like creating a school that has nothing to do with a church, and foisting it on a neighborhood that doesn't want it. Must be that "new math."
Enter Mr Llanes. He starts out by talking about this school we're supposed to absorb. And appreciate. So Roxy Ross, and the Village Attorney, remind him that we stopped considering this last year, because the Village paid attention, and spent money, but the Mater people never presented what they were supposed to provide for the Village. Something about a business plan that Bryan thought was essential last year, but thinks is unnecessary now, and four other kinds of requested documentation. Roxy suggested to Llanes that we were done exerting ourselves, if the school, and the Church, weren't going to specify what their vision was. They should have done a demographic analysis, to see what our potential student population is. But Llanes said he couldn't tell us what range of schooling they were proposing, until they knew from us what our need was.
Huh? Our need? We don't have a need. This all started with their proposing a school to us. We didn't ask for a school. Somehow, Llanes twisted this whole thing around.
And then, he got into a fencing match about the Codes. When we asked for a business plan, or a five-year plan/projection, he wanted to know if those kinds of requirements were in our Code. Very crafty. And sarcastic. Well, here's what's in the Code about schools: They're not allowed. End of story. Sort of. If a school already existed, it would be non-conforming, but it would be grandfathered in, so it could stay. But Cutie had already said the education building wasn't being used, so the school is back out. If a non-conforming use is surrendered or inactive for six months, the grandfathering becomes void.
But the school/Church has an ace up its joint sleeve. The right-wing government of our State has enabled a collusion between Charter schools and certain other enterprises, like churches, so that they no longer have to follow land use codes at all. They only have to follow building codes. So the Church and the school are free to tell us they're done playing with us, and we're getting the school, whether we need it or like it or not. In the spirit of full disclosure, I'm thinking of telling them that, at the informational get-together they wangled out of us.
Cutie mentioned that he doesn't want the Church to leave the Park. I wonder how much company he has. Apparently not enough to fill a church.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
My, my.
I've listened carefully to the recording of Fence Workshop Chapter 2A. Chapter 1 occurred in July, 2011. That's the public workshop that was not attended by the three people who suddenly decided we should have a public workshop. Chapter 2A occurred on Saturday, January 21, 2012. It apparently wasn't enough, and Chapter 2B occurred on Monday, January 23, 2012. That one, by the way, was attended by only one of the people who insisted we needed this workshop, now series of workshops. The other two were missing in action, though one said she was busy with her day job. Evidently, they didn't think a workshop was important in July, thought it was critical on 1/21/12, and thought it was unnecessary on 1/23/12. We have no information as to how they make their decisions.
As for the content, it was pretty much all over the place. Some people wanted the big picture, some wanted to pore over spurious hypotheticals and definitions, like of the word "yard," and some just wanted the Ordinance passed. One clear casualty of the workshop enterprise was the remarkable amount of time spent by the Code Review Committee. It was given little or no consideration and respect. The people who wanted these last workshops did not attend the CRC meetings, and they acted not only as if these meetings had not occurred, but as if it was perfectly OK to ignore them, and the time spent by the volunteers who made commitments to them. It's a funny thing that Noah ran on a platform that included his wish for more public involvement in local government, involvement that he has thus far quite consistently ignored. Roxy pointed out that CRC members have even stopped attending CRC meetings, because they grew tired of the pointless labor.
Barbara Watts spoke as if her decision about the Ordinance might rest on her grudging willingness to "compromise" with one resident, or her concern that her next door neighbor might be mad at her. There seemed to be no big picture. The real big picture, of course, was the very many hours of work and devotion of the CRC, whose meetings were open to the public, but this was essentially ignored. Gary Kuhl tried to remind the workshop that this wasn't about a personal opinion, certainly not the personal opinion of one or another Commissioner, but that it was about the work the CRC had done, and their efforts to arrive at consensus and a broad view of the neighborhood. He tried to remind the workshop that those who now suddenly had opinions had not ever attended any of the real working groups and meetings. He seemed to be talking to himself.
Gary had it occasionally within his grasp. He pointed out from time to time that approaching the Ordinance as the workshop attendees were could and would take an unmanageable amount of time, and the enterprise should be suspended. Even Noah Jacobs ethereally had it. He said that perhaps this workshop was not the place for this, and that the Commission had decisions to make, and perhaps it was not necessary (was perhaps disrespectful?) to waste the public's time fleshing this out this way. But his purchase was only ethereal. It quickly evaporated.
The voice of greatest and most salient reason was Barbara Kuhl's. She sensed something. She felt a pulse beneath the skin and the fat. She asked the Commission, by e-mail and at Chapter 2B, to reveal and perhaps elaborate what were their leanings about the Ordinance. Of course, they never did. But hers was the most important point. What were these workshops about? Why the peculiar attendance? What did the questions mean? Was all of this just maneuvering intending to serve some other and underlying goal? For example, during Chapter 2A, Steve Bernard suggested that the new Ordinance would frustrate both people who wanted fences and people who didn't. So what was left was to scrap the whole reconfiguration, and keep the original Ordinance. Was that it? He also said that he "personally" doesn't favor front yard fences. So that could have been it. Barbara asked, in her gentle but direct way, and she did not get an answer.
As for the content, it was pretty much all over the place. Some people wanted the big picture, some wanted to pore over spurious hypotheticals and definitions, like of the word "yard," and some just wanted the Ordinance passed. One clear casualty of the workshop enterprise was the remarkable amount of time spent by the Code Review Committee. It was given little or no consideration and respect. The people who wanted these last workshops did not attend the CRC meetings, and they acted not only as if these meetings had not occurred, but as if it was perfectly OK to ignore them, and the time spent by the volunteers who made commitments to them. It's a funny thing that Noah ran on a platform that included his wish for more public involvement in local government, involvement that he has thus far quite consistently ignored. Roxy pointed out that CRC members have even stopped attending CRC meetings, because they grew tired of the pointless labor.
Barbara Watts spoke as if her decision about the Ordinance might rest on her grudging willingness to "compromise" with one resident, or her concern that her next door neighbor might be mad at her. There seemed to be no big picture. The real big picture, of course, was the very many hours of work and devotion of the CRC, whose meetings were open to the public, but this was essentially ignored. Gary Kuhl tried to remind the workshop that this wasn't about a personal opinion, certainly not the personal opinion of one or another Commissioner, but that it was about the work the CRC had done, and their efforts to arrive at consensus and a broad view of the neighborhood. He tried to remind the workshop that those who now suddenly had opinions had not ever attended any of the real working groups and meetings. He seemed to be talking to himself.
Gary had it occasionally within his grasp. He pointed out from time to time that approaching the Ordinance as the workshop attendees were could and would take an unmanageable amount of time, and the enterprise should be suspended. Even Noah Jacobs ethereally had it. He said that perhaps this workshop was not the place for this, and that the Commission had decisions to make, and perhaps it was not necessary (was perhaps disrespectful?) to waste the public's time fleshing this out this way. But his purchase was only ethereal. It quickly evaporated.
The voice of greatest and most salient reason was Barbara Kuhl's. She sensed something. She felt a pulse beneath the skin and the fat. She asked the Commission, by e-mail and at Chapter 2B, to reveal and perhaps elaborate what were their leanings about the Ordinance. Of course, they never did. But hers was the most important point. What were these workshops about? Why the peculiar attendance? What did the questions mean? Was all of this just maneuvering intending to serve some other and underlying goal? For example, during Chapter 2A, Steve Bernard suggested that the new Ordinance would frustrate both people who wanted fences and people who didn't. So what was left was to scrap the whole reconfiguration, and keep the original Ordinance. Was that it? He also said that he "personally" doesn't favor front yard fences. So that could have been it. Barbara asked, in her gentle but direct way, and she did not get an answer.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Well Shut My Mouth.
"We grow tyrannical fighting tyranny." E. B. White
It appears I lost a confrontation today with his Imperial Majesty, Noah Jacobs. The setting of my unceremonious defeat was the Fence Ordinance workshop.
It's hard to believe what a very short time ago it was that Noah introduced himself to the Village, raging, sputtering, and stomping around, until Roxy had to try to deflect or redirect him. His response was to accuse her, which he did repeatedly, of brutally suppressing him, which he generalized to what he wanted to portray as her tendency to suppress the general public. In fact, Noah ran on this platform. He claimed to want the public heard and respected, not muzzled, and certainly not by a brutish and self-possessed Mayor.
Fast forward just a few quick months, and Noah is not only elected to the Commission, but he and two of his colleagues elect him Mayor. Since he has no relevant experience and no knowledge of the Village and its procedures, no one can fault him for being a bit tight. After all, he has no idea what he's doing, and he relies completely on the Manager, the Village Attorney, and even the past Mayor to guide him through meetings. He didn't begin to know the first thing about the Fence Ordinance, having failed completely to familiarize himself with it in any way, and presumably it seemed like a great convenience to him to deflect having to vote on it for a while. Thus, public workshop #2.
The workshop started with Noah's launching into asking questions about the Ordinance. He needed Gage Hartung and Dan Keys to explain it to him. Sometimes his colleagues, mainly Bob Anderson, would have to tell him what our Ordinance is. Sometimes, even the Village Attorney had to explain to him about these kinds of Ordinances in general. The problem with the tutorial he scheduled for himself is that he had convened the Commission, some of the Village staff, the Village Attorney, and several residents to keep him company while he asked Gage and Dan, and anyone else who would read him the Ordinance, to tell him what he never bothered to find out or ask about before. It was beginning to be a bit odd sitting there listening to this. Some of us were commenting to each other about it.
So, I asked for a chance to speak. Noah, who presumably intended to be slightly inclusive, told us that we could have three minutes to say what we had to say. I reminded Noah that he had not made any of the routine efforts to find out about the Ordinance (didn't come to Commission meetings, didn't go to any of the Code Review meetings, didn't familiarize himself with the Attorney's contributions, and didn't attend the other public workshop), and I wanted to know if Noah's asking people to explain the Ordinance to him was what this workshop was really about. That's certainly what it was about so far.
Well, I really didn't get out many sentences before Noah started cutting me off. He finally declared that I was only allowed to ask questions, not make comments. He hadn't established this scheme with his colleagues, and he didn't ask for any consensus; he just seemed to make it up on the spot.
So, I left. I've attended meetings chaired by John Hornbuckle and by Roxy Ross. I've seen each of them challenged, either by residents who were going on and on about something, or even by residents complaining personally about them. And I've seen each of them try to respond to or redirect those residents, generally as respectfully as possible. But I've never seen anything like this. This is a Chair who ignores his colleagues, acts as brutish as possible, and completely suppresses speakers. This was E. B. White's worst nightmare. Tyrannical, indeed. And I understand part of Noah's problem. He has placed himself at a huge disadvantage. He has almost no experience seeing how a Mayor acts, and his most direct experience involved a Mayor having to deal with him, when he was quite out of control. So not much chance for real perspective and insight there.
It appears I lost a confrontation today with his Imperial Majesty, Noah Jacobs. The setting of my unceremonious defeat was the Fence Ordinance workshop.
It's hard to believe what a very short time ago it was that Noah introduced himself to the Village, raging, sputtering, and stomping around, until Roxy had to try to deflect or redirect him. His response was to accuse her, which he did repeatedly, of brutally suppressing him, which he generalized to what he wanted to portray as her tendency to suppress the general public. In fact, Noah ran on this platform. He claimed to want the public heard and respected, not muzzled, and certainly not by a brutish and self-possessed Mayor.
Fast forward just a few quick months, and Noah is not only elected to the Commission, but he and two of his colleagues elect him Mayor. Since he has no relevant experience and no knowledge of the Village and its procedures, no one can fault him for being a bit tight. After all, he has no idea what he's doing, and he relies completely on the Manager, the Village Attorney, and even the past Mayor to guide him through meetings. He didn't begin to know the first thing about the Fence Ordinance, having failed completely to familiarize himself with it in any way, and presumably it seemed like a great convenience to him to deflect having to vote on it for a while. Thus, public workshop #2.
The workshop started with Noah's launching into asking questions about the Ordinance. He needed Gage Hartung and Dan Keys to explain it to him. Sometimes his colleagues, mainly Bob Anderson, would have to tell him what our Ordinance is. Sometimes, even the Village Attorney had to explain to him about these kinds of Ordinances in general. The problem with the tutorial he scheduled for himself is that he had convened the Commission, some of the Village staff, the Village Attorney, and several residents to keep him company while he asked Gage and Dan, and anyone else who would read him the Ordinance, to tell him what he never bothered to find out or ask about before. It was beginning to be a bit odd sitting there listening to this. Some of us were commenting to each other about it.
So, I asked for a chance to speak. Noah, who presumably intended to be slightly inclusive, told us that we could have three minutes to say what we had to say. I reminded Noah that he had not made any of the routine efforts to find out about the Ordinance (didn't come to Commission meetings, didn't go to any of the Code Review meetings, didn't familiarize himself with the Attorney's contributions, and didn't attend the other public workshop), and I wanted to know if Noah's asking people to explain the Ordinance to him was what this workshop was really about. That's certainly what it was about so far.
Well, I really didn't get out many sentences before Noah started cutting me off. He finally declared that I was only allowed to ask questions, not make comments. He hadn't established this scheme with his colleagues, and he didn't ask for any consensus; he just seemed to make it up on the spot.
So, I left. I've attended meetings chaired by John Hornbuckle and by Roxy Ross. I've seen each of them challenged, either by residents who were going on and on about something, or even by residents complaining personally about them. And I've seen each of them try to respond to or redirect those residents, generally as respectfully as possible. But I've never seen anything like this. This is a Chair who ignores his colleagues, acts as brutish as possible, and completely suppresses speakers. This was E. B. White's worst nightmare. Tyrannical, indeed. And I understand part of Noah's problem. He has placed himself at a huge disadvantage. He has almost no experience seeing how a Mayor acts, and his most direct experience involved a Mayor having to deal with him, when he was quite out of control. So not much chance for real perspective and insight there.
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