Good morning, Gilroyans. Grab a cup of coffee and have a seat,
as I hereby report my return to The Dispatch editorial page.
Good morning, Gilroyans. Grab a cup of coffee and have a seat, as I hereby report my return to The Dispatch editorial page.
A few months of serving on the Editorial Board of this paper has once again whetted my appetite to produce the written word. This decision also has the additional benefit of causing the immediate loss of 130 pounds, as I now have the fair Phyllis off my back.
As many of you know, I finished up a term on City Council last year, so I decided that for my first two columns, readers might be interested in knowing what it’s like to be one of the city’s leaders. It was interesting to say the least. I learned quite a bit, and not only about city government, but also about myself. My patience meter, especially for fools, has always hovered around the zero mark, and so it was tested mightily, and surprisingly enough, I acquired some.
One of the pitfalls of entering public office is minor celebrity. A good friend sent me a copy of “Rumsfeld’s Rules” when I was elected, and one is especially true. One does not suddenly become more attractive, tell funnier jokes, nor receive loads of lunch or dinner invitations because he or she has suddenly been recognized as a fine fellow. What has happened is that you now have the power to influence people’s lives or fortunes, and you will be courted because of that. Woe unto he who does not understand that the office and vote is being courted, not the person.
Getting elected is the easy part. The document dump on your front porch (two banker’s boxes) of the various documents you are expected to read and absorb almost at once reveals how far behind the
8-ball the new councilmember is. City Administrator Jay Baksa holds what I called “councilman boot camp” for a day where you meet various city employees and department heads, and of course, since Jay is on the board of Leadership Gilroy, he always induces newbies to take the course, which I did and enjoyed.
Jay also introduces his staff, including City Clerk Rhonda Pellin (whom councilmembers call “council mom” behind her back) and currently, Susan Johnson and Karen Pogue. They are excellent, and simply cannot do enough for their charges.
A council member’s workweek begins on Wednesday of every other week. Right around 5pm, city staff delivers your council packet, a binder with the agenda, staff reports, and additional information which will be discussed, decided upon, argued about and finally voted upon the following Monday at the council meeting. I always took a quick glance through the agenda and staff reports to form preliminary opinions, because like fall follows summer, the phone rang and it would be the Dispatch city beat reporter asking about issues of interest.
Based on advice from my longtime friend Mike Gilroy, I answered the questions for the reporter with something like “I’m inclined to vote for it, unless I hear an unconsidered argument at the dais.” That was excellent advice from Mike; you don’t want to paint yourself into a corner early on.
The next few days took more careful study and reflection on the issues, and perhaps the occasional visit to, for instance, a proposed development or a look at the downtown to see how planned changes might look in comparison to the artist’s rendering.
Over the weekend, and mindful of the Brown Act, councilmembers might meet or talk on the phone to ask opinions on important issues.
And also, councilmembers have collateral duties which are not mandated, but certainly expected, like towing Santa’s sled in last week’s Christmas Tree lighting while wearing stupid reindeer antlers (nothing undignified about that). There are park openings, business openings and various social events, and again, while attendance is not mandatory, it is expected that you will show the flag. Most of us do.
After discussion with Sergeant Derry, we have decided that this will be a two-part column, and will continue next week due to length.
Sarge, it’s nice to be back. What could be better than waiting for those beads of blood to break out on my forehead again as I contemplate the keyboard near the weekly deadline?
We are searching exhaustively for the photo of Mr. Dillon with his reindeer hat on. Meanwhile, we welcome him back with open horns and fervently hope that he can still poke at the powers that be with sharpened antlers when necessary. He is a longtime Gilroyan, writer and former city councilman who is also a member of the Dispatch’s local editorial board. His column will be published each Thursday. Reach him at rt******@****ic.com.
