Two Funerals, One Kleenex

Opening the paper yesterday brought a real shock:  Bill Yates, former Morro Bay Mayor, had died after a long battle with lung cancer.  He was only 66 and I feel so sad for what his family must be going through now. It's an awful loss.

It seems only a brief while ago that Bill and Bill (Morem) and I were fellow scrivners at the now defunct Sun Bulletin, Morem the assistant editor and Yates and I scribbling away on our columns. And I remember well when he and his wife opened their beautiful jewelery store, Zephyrine, in the new Marina Square complex.  The store gleamed with diamonds, gold, silver. I always thought it odd that Morro Bay could support such a high-end store, but obviously enough tourists and locals headed in their door so it thrived.

When Bill got into politics, I'd see him often around town.  He was unmistakable, a large, smiling man, eyes twinkiling with amusement, as if everything he saw going on was great fun.  And he could be spotted a mile away.  Who else in town wore those signature colorful Hawaiian shirts?  The term "booming" comes to my mind when I think of Bill, though he was actually quite soft-spoken.

His four terms as Mayor covered a lot of Morro Bay's recent history -- remember the massively frustrating, delayed, wrangled-over, finally finished "Twin Bridges?"  It must have taken a LOT of humor to have gotten through that tangled mess.  Or to get through Morro Bay Politics in general. And anybody familiar with Morro Bay Politics knows what I'm talking about.  And I'm sure his humor must have failed at times when Morro Bay's own "Sewer Wars" erupted and the community headed for a Coastal Commission Train Wreck.  I would sidle up to him at those meetings and say, "Bill, I have two words for you:  "Los . . .  Osos."  And he'd laugh.

In the middle of all this politicking and mayoring, Bill went on hiatus; He got on his boat and sailed off to sea in his sloop, "Obsession," to try to sail solo across the Pacific.  And that's the way I will now hold him in my memory -- his earthly suffering over, his boat is running clear and free, the zephyrs are cool, the sea gleaming, and there's nothing ahead but crystalline weather and beauty all around him. And he's smiling.  And, yes, wearing one of the loudest, most colorful Hawaiian shirts in the universe. 

And Then There's Fred Phelps 

On the same day that Bill's death was in the paper, so was the announcement of the death of the appalling "preacher," Rev. Fred Phelps, head of his own ugly cult, The Westboro Baptist Church.  Phelps, you will remember, used to show up with his small gaggle of followers to picket funerals of soldiers who died in Iraq or Afghanistan.  They'd carry signs declaring that God hated the soldier who was being buried that day, or signs saying "God Loves IED's" or "God Hates Fags", and so forth.  From military funerals, the cult followers (i.e. his children) moved on to staging ugly, hate-filled protests everywhere for any reason whatsoever, carrying signs that God hated whatever and whoever.  Phelps was particularly loathsome when it came to gay people and finally ended up declaring that God hated America because America actually allowed gay citizens to live here. 

The first response I had to reading of Phelps' death was to gleefully wonder if thousands of people would show up at his funeral carrying signs saying, "Good Riddance to Bad Rubbish," but that would have been hateful and would have just perpetuated the Ugly Cycle of call and response, Tit for Tat.   

But Rachel Maddow, on her show last night, had a far more wonderful (and accurate) take on what Phelps' sick hatred actually accomplished.  Instead of hating Phelps back, people started mocking, then laughing.  Rachel showed photo after photo of very clever people who started showing up at Phelps' numerous picket lines with signs of their own, signs that said "God Hates Figs," with the Biblical reference given (Yes, apparently God does hate figs.  I have no idea why, but it's in the Bible, so you have been warned.)  Or they'd show up with a huge sign saying "God Hates Signs."  One after another, people started to top one other with witty riffs on the "God Hates" meme.  It soon became one big hilarious Photo Op. 

And instead of giving Phelps' ugly hatred some kind of hateful opposition, thereby casting him in the role of martyr, their clever mockery made Phelps a fool, a risible fool. And made his premise, "God Hates . . . . (fill in the blanks)" the one big absurd joke it actually was.  And while Phelps marched in one direction, the country was marching in the opposite direction.

As for Phelps himself, God will deal with him, I'm sure.  And when He does, I hope He'll pay particular attention to Phelps' most profound sin:  He poisoned his own children's minds with his own sick hatred. That's unforgivable.

There's an old  Native American saying, "When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced.  Live your life in such a manner that when you die, the world cries and you rejoice."

In this case, there will be two funerals, but we'll only need one Kleenex. 
     

Is That A Bonus In Your Pocket

. . . or are you just glad to see me?

O.K. admit it.  This story's just plain goofy, one of those Chinese Water Torture stories that dribble out bit by bit.  First, Jamie Irons, the new Morro Bay City Council has a meeting then doesn't have a meeting, then wants to fire their top two CEOs, then it doesn't fire anybody and gives no reason why they're being fired or not fired.  Then hundreds of outraged citizens show up with firebrands, making ugly crowd noises and demanding to know what's going on, so the City Council says, Sorry, it's a personnel matter, we can't tell you even though we're not saying anybody's done anything to be fired for, maybe, maybe not, who knows?  Then the Mayor says, "Oh, nevermind.  Instead of firing, we'll go hire an outside lawyer to find out what we just did or didn't do and what we should do now, not that we're saying we're going to do anything in the first place, or something, maybe.

So, the Tribune readers mull over that enlightening report and a few days later, up pops a follow up story claiming that "several legal experts" (i.e. Tom Newton, executive director of the California Newspaper Publishers Association) have opined that the previous Morro Bay Mayor Yates and his City Council violated the Brown Act when they failed to give proper public notice of their intention to increase their two CEO's severance pay six weeks before before leaving office.  And then forgot to report out that compensation. 

Then, on the same front page, another follow up story:  The Morro Bay City Council voted to cough up $12,500 for an outside attorney to sort through this mess to find out a couple of things:  Since the "secret" severance packages were (apparently) done in violation of the Brown act, are they invalid?  And, if they are, can the new Mayor Irons go ahead and fire the two CEO's using their old at-will contracts?  Thereby saving the city some $300,000-plus in excess compensation?

Well, stay tuned.  In the meantime, some citizens have started a recall petition.  Morro Bay Politics.  A Recall.  Oh, dear. 

Oh, and you just knew THAT was gonna happen . . .

The Tribune reports that the County code enforcement folks were heading out to drought-parched Paso Robles to investigate dozens of illegal water use violation complaints. When the BOS voted on Aug 27 to forbid any new vines, that meant unless the vintner/farmer/rancher actually had his vines/trees in the ground, they were out of luck. Then they weasled  on  "vested rights," which allowed some wiggle room for growers who had paid-for vines in transit, for example. 

And when there's wiggle room there's sure to be growers willing to wiggle right over the line, then head to court.  And so it begins:  Owens Valley, redux.  Will we hear shotguns in the night?  Cut water lines? Sabotage?  Hey, they don't call it a Water War for nothing.  And when livelihoods and homes are at stake . . .  Let's hope the formation of a water district and some sort of water rationing kicks in soon.  Meantime, pray for rain.

Water, Water Everywhere!  Let's Dump It Into the Bay

Over at Cal Coast News ( http://calcoastnews.com/2013/09/los-osos-sewer-contractor-dumping-millions-gallons-water-morro-bay/  ), Josh Friedman picks up the story of the Los Osos sewer contractors being awash in polluted ground-water bubbling up whilst they're laying pipe for the new sewer.  Oh, what to do with the stuff?  Well, their contract calls for them to dispose of it on land, if possible, and they're certainly doing that daily, with water trucks trolling the streets spraying everywhere.  But there's just too much of the stuff and the county plans apparently didn't include running a pipe, for example, up to the Broderson disposal site so the water could percolate back into the ground and do that before digging began in earnest.

Oh, what to do?  Well, there's Morro Bay right there, and Morro Bay's made up of water, and polluted groundwater is, well, it's water, so what's the problem?  Let's just dump it in the Bay!  Who's to object?

The Regional Water Quality Control Board, you might reply?  Oh, no.  That Board wasted no time and expended enormous amounts of money and time prosecuting 45 happless homeowners (The Los Osos 45) for polluting the groundwater with their septic tanks,but when it comes to dumping gazillions of gallons of polluted groundwater into the Bay?  Meh.  Not a problem.

The contractor was supposed to exhaust all alternative ground-dispersal options before bay discharge, but there's no evidence that that has been done.  And no evidence that the Water Board plans to enforce that requirement.  Besides sending the contract a mild little letter of suggestions.  No Mad Hatter trials for them!  After all, it's only an issue of water quality, nothing the Regional Water Quality Control Board need concern itself with. Ditto for the BOS.  More "Meh."

Well, with all things RWQCB,  BOS and Sewer, it's all a matter of geese and ganders, isn't it?