Waltz Me Around Again, Willy . . .

           When your police chief is accused of going out drinking with her officers and she ends up allegedly dancing on the bar, you know you’re in trouble.  When the same chief is accused of hot-tubbing with her officers while on a tax-payer financed “retreat,” and is accused of sexually harassing some officers, and putting quotas on ticket writing, and there are claims that because of budget cuts, the reduced staff ends up ignoring real crimes, then, you really know you’re in trouble.

            And when the city manager, Jim App, the police chief’s boss, refers to her as Rita, the Lovely Meter Maid and refers to himself in official emails as “PBG phat bald guy,” you just gotta know that trouble’s heading your way.  And, as Cal Coast News reports, said city manager sends out a too-cutsey-by-half note about a social function: “To all staff re: Saturday nosh: ‘Roasted bean squeezing’s, [sic] bagels und phruit in a dam, sammies, rabbit nibblers, phinger-sweets mid-day.  Nuf fer 35, Dig? J.” – phruit?  Phinger-sweets?  Really? – well,  you just  KNOW you’re  in for it now.

            Some $250,000 worth, which is what said police chief walked out the door with after promising that nobody would sue anybody. Or I should say, $250,000 worth and counting as the scritch of legal pens on legal-sized paper start churning out lawsuits and counter suits.  All hands on deck.  Let the killing commence!    

            Meantime, the City Manager is still in his job, which means the good people of Paso Robles, who are gonna be left to pay for this Big Phat Mess of Roasted Bean Squeezings, now need to ask one  simple question:

            -- Where were the City Council members?  Their primary job is to make sure the City Manager, who they hired, is doing his job properly.  And when they get a whisper of somebody dancing on bar-tops, it’s their job to start asking questions. And if they don’t get a whisper of same, their job is to unstopper their ears, get off their soft comfy City Council Chairs and make sure they’re walking around in their community with their ears to the ground in order to make sure they’re the FIRST people in town who hear about bar-top dancing.

            Sigh.  In this County, nobody learns anything, so we get to waltz around again, some more. Get out your wallets, Paso Robles.  This time, the dance is on you.  

Shane! Shane! Go Away, Shane!

            There will be a lot of ink spilled and TV time spent on an endless discussion of the shooting of an unarmed black teenager, Trayvon Marin, in Florida. Tears will be shed, hands will be wrung, brows will furrow with earnest discussion.  It’s all a waste of time.  Nothing will change here. The case is a simple one:

            Trayvon Martin was guilty of Walking While Black in a land where every armed nincompoop thinks he’s Shane. 

            That’s it. And that’s exactly the way we like it. It’s the American Way. Nuf said.