Metro Pulse/Snarls/Democracy Inaction

Comment
on this story

Meet Your City
A calendar of upcoming public meetings you should attend

Knox County Commission Finance Committee
Thursday, June 1 * 8:30 a.m. * Main Assembly Room of the City County Building
Committee members will discuss the county's proposed budget for the fiscal year 2000-2001. County Executive Tommy Schumpert has recommended pay raises for county employees and pledged, "No new taxes." Come see if he'll budge.

Knox County Commission
Monday, June 5 * 2 p.m. * Main Assembly Room of the City County Building
The commission's first regular meeting of the month. More budget talk should be a priority.

Growth Policy Coordinating Committee
Tuesday, June 6 * 3 p.m. * Main Assembly Room of the City County Building
The GPCC developed the growth plan that's been rejected by the Knox County Commission (the plan makes annexations too easy, they say) and the Knoxville City Council (it doesn't leave us enough room to grow, they say). The committee will meet on Tuesday, June 6 to review the recommendations made by both the city and county. Knox County has already sued the state for requiring the plan, and Knoxville may soon intervene in defense of the law. Expect fireworks.

A mostly true tale of local government

by Scott McNutt

Every citizen should attend a local government meeting at least once. It's a great opportunity to see your tax dollars at play—I've been there, and it sure didn't look like those little greenbacks were working. Yes, it's time eligible voters acknowledged the spawn of their democratic inactivity. Some readers may think the following account is exaggerated. But honestly, only the names have been changed to amuse the innocent.

I should begin by describing the Community Commission. Membership is restricted to humans, mostly. No doubt because of the anti-smoking ordinances for government buildings, no backroom wheeling-dealing appeared to be going on. All the Commissioners sat in full view of the public, around an enormous semicircular desk. Which made them perfect links in the political food chain for Winnifred "Pooh" Corners.

Every local governing body seems to have one guy who's been there since the Jurassic Period—and who has the political bite and walnut-sized brain to prove it. Ours is Pooh Corners: a crusty, fossilized crustacean of a politician, with an agenda and a hairstyle all his own. Pooh's head looked as if some exotic jungle bird had lost half its plumage when crash-landing into his cranium. His approach to government had a similar eye-catching flair, no back-room deals needed.

Pooh controlled the course of the meeting through forceful, penetrating observations. "Who are all these people?" he shrilled, gesturing imperiously at citizens there to present their opinions on community business. "Why are they here?" he asked querulously. "Don't they know we have community business to attend to?" At which point one or two political parrots echoed, "Community business! Community business!"

A debate ensued over whether the citizens should, indeed, be allowed to express their views to their representatives. Before any action could be taken, Pooh suddenly announced, "I'm going to the bathroom!" Someone responded, "Do we need a motion on that?" And another called out, "Nay!" and someone else shouted, "What are we voting on again?" Then a loud chorus of "Recess!" broke out, and the Chairman banged his gavel on the table and called for a sandwich from the vending machine, hold the mustard.

Eventually, the citizens got to speak. And I appreciate our local leaders allowing that. It's true, many of the Commissioners seemed completely indifferent to what the citizens had to say, and sometimes baffled and resentful that the citizens wanted to speak at all. But I thought I detected a Commissioner listening occasionally, and I appreciate that. Really. Truly. Thanks.

But on other issues, Pooh Corners, this octogenarian velociraptor, this dart-full codger, seemed to cow the Commissioners, who were the usual assortment of "yes-men" and "no-men," though the biggest group was the "I-don't-know-men." For instance, on the subject of whether a large, costly parking garage had been kept in or cut out of a larger, costlier, downtown jail project, the consensus was, "Huh?"

I can't really blame the I-don't-knowers for not understanding the proceedings. Even without Pooh's distraction tactics, every discussion was couched in a pseudo-legalistic dialect. Whenever an issue was put to vote, the Chairman would say something like, "Okay, we're voting on a three-part, subjunctive declension of the secondary amendment to dismiss the motion to proceed with a vote on whether to take a recess for lunch, which was the original item. And this item comes with a side item. I'll have the fries."

Pooh would then interject, "I have to go to the bathroom again!" And someone would courageously proclaim, "I still don't understand what we're doing!" Then the Chairman would bang his gavel and declare, "We are recessed until we figure out what it is that we're voting on. Can I get some cheese on this, please?" To which Pooh would reply, "I move against that! Cheese gives me gas!"

I left after about five hours.

Was this the sort of democracy you envisioned when you didn't vote in the last election? Of course not! That's why I say it's time to revoke the ban on smoking in government buildings, and return to the shady-deals-done-in-smoke-filled-backrooms kind of government that made this country what it is today. All in favor stand and say, "I have to go to the bathroom!"