ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN - I LOVE THE MAYOR

First of all, let me say this: I want to outlaw all financial contributions for political campaigns in this country; and immediately fire all the lobbyists.  Turn them into social workers and send them out to do good works in troubled neighborhoods, like ours, for example.  Vallejo can use all the help we can get – or can we?

Investors, please take note; I read this startling information online:  “…Standard and Poor’s has raised the City of Vallejo’s investment rating from BB- to BBB - with a stable outlook. This equates to a three step jump, which equates to the City has been moved out of the “speculative - grade” category and has returned to having an “investment grade” rating. Having an investment - grade category rating means potentially improved investment or borrowing opportunities…” 

No doubt the mayor will carry this message to the world when he travels to the Philippines and Japan later this month.

More good news: Andrew Young, former U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations came to Vallejo to inaugurate an institute whose purpose is “to improve the fortunes and futures of those 15 to 25 years old.”   Young spoke at a meeting in a downtown waterfront restaurant.  He gazed through the windows and said, “…I don’t know Vallejo, but people tell me y’all have problems here. I can’t imagine that. I can’t imagine a waterfront like this, the beautiful hills and mountains. Problems? Problems are challenges that make you invent new solutions.”

Great sounding stuff.  Tidbits like these give me goosebumps and confirm the reasons I chose Vallejo in the first place.  What we need, in my humble opinion, is a city council full of savvy business people, interested in developing this jewel of a city to its rightful grandeur as a thriving, beautiful, historic place in the center of the bay area, and who know how to do it.  Other cities have done it. Why can’t we?

When I contemplate some of the decisions made by the powers that be in Vallejo, I think of the mythic wise men of Chelm, those infamous village idiots who made all the wrong decisions for their town.  Case in point: the waterfront utility storage boxes we paid some well-meaning artist, selected by a jury, to decorate “graffiti style.”

Other cities pay to get rid of that kind of stuff on their public walls, but we in Vallejo, with the astuteness of the wise men of Chelm, paid good money out of our participatory budgeting “beautification program,” to get graffiti painted on our public waterfront for all the world to see.   Ok, if they want, for pictures of birds and whatnot, although they look so kindergarten/first grade to me, but graffiti, in my opinion, sends out the wrong message. 

Don’t get me started on that sculpture item planted on the corner of Georgia and Mare Island Way, for all the world to see.  Who’s watching the new buildings and designs on the waterfront?   Who’s protecting our beautiful public spaces from the anything-goes attitude of our arts community?  What’s this about a cement factory on primo riverside property?  Really?  And how’d some dentist get a hundred year lease (is that true?) on what in my opinion is the best commercial spot in the entire city?  That gorgeous, grassy place between the ferry and Independence Park, should contain a fine restaurant, a lovely tea room, gift shop, hot-dog/taco stand, candy store/ice-cream parlor, bicycle rental, paddle-boat station, news stand, souvenir studio, summer bandstand… isn’t that what we want for Vallejo?

I’m off the meds now but unapologetically still cranky.  I wish someone would take out the garbage for me.

I got elected to the Vallejo Board of Beauty and Design and given the title of Board Member.  My outspoken nature might get me thrown out sooner or later, but meanwhile, let me tell you, sitting up on that dais, practicing the rules of order, speaking into a microphone in a room open to the public, discussing the beautification of our city with intelligent talented people who want to improve Vallejo is my idea of a real good time.

At my first meeting, the only people in the audience were my sister and brother-in-law who flew in from Florida to help celebrate my birthday that week, and took pictures of me sitting up there on my high horse. 

My squeaking caught the attention of the mayor who invited me to his office to make plans for Independence Park.  We both want a park we can be proud of, and the Mayor has promised he will make it happen.  I call him the Giver of the Green Light and believe he’ll keep his word.   

At the risk of being lynched, I wish to say I love Mayor Osby Davis.  I know it’s inflammatory and revolutionary to talk such words on these hallowed pages, in the very annals of the infamous angry finger-pointing VIB that I admire and respect, but I’m here to tell you I’m quite fond of this handsome dark-skinned fellow who lords it over our city, with his quiet voice and sharp zoot suits. 

The mayor is a gentleman, warm, charming, eager and able to help. When we sit and talk together, plotting and planning the creation of Independence Park, it’s as though I’m with my father.  His voice is gentle and reassuring.  With all due respect, I feel like I could sit on his honorable lap while he tells me he’ll support my efforts and that I should keep moving forward with my project.  He’s my daddy.

I went to City Hall last week and watched the vote on whether or not to pay for the mayor’s travels, with councilwoman Verder-Aliga, to Japan and the Philippines, which turned out as expected.  

That night, however, I was especially interested in the main feature of the evening, the final showdown between our Mayor and City Council members, and the lawyers for the medical marijuana dispensary people.  Our City Manager presented the case simply and eloquently.  He enumerated all the facts and figures that boiled down to this: spend a million dollars to fight them, or give them what they want.  The vote came in loud and clear; give it to them, with the mayor casting the only no vote. 

Then there were parents who got up to express heart-wrenching fear for their children’s safety in our schools, demanding a meeting with the school powers to deal with intolerable bullying and violence in our schools.   Violence in the schools!  Is there anything worse?  How did Standard and Poor miss that?   We must change that immediately.    

By 9 PM I was worn out and decided to return home and watch the rest of the show on TV.  Once home I did some stuff and started up the stairs to my bedroom when I realized I didn’t have my mobile phone.  Heart pounding, I ran to my garage (ha, I can’t run, I just think about it and lose my breath), drove back to City Hall, climbed the front steps, burst into the room where they were in recess, and stumbled right into the mayor. 

“What happened?” he asked, helping me with the oxygen tank falling off my shoulder.  “I’ve lost my phone,” I blurted, hardly able to speak.   Calmly, he asked, “Where were you sitting?” and while I led him to the spot near the front of the room, he told me he had lost his phone once and it was an awful experience.  I pointed to my chair.  He got down on his knees and searched under the seat.  After a moment he looked up, smiling from ear to ear, and handed my precious little Samsung over to me.  I was so happy I threw my arms around him and cried with joy.

So, if you happened to have caught me in the act of hugging the mayor in City Hall that night, and were wondering what the heck is going on, you now know. 

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