Local comment: Even in Elberton, a civic dispute

Let me tell you a funny story, if I can do it with these mutts clamped onto my leg. Ow!

When you set out to serve the public as an elected official, you notice some things right away. I ran for public office twice in the government of Whitman County, (won both times, by a mudslide) and I used to spend hours on the phone when I should have been doing other things. Earning a living, raising my kids, sitting by the fire, stuff like that. Once you are perceived as having the power to allocate resources, you become an Important Person, passionately wooed for favors, and never mind that you are sworn to uphold the rule of law. “Please help me profit by this, my pet project, and while you are at it, spank that other guy.”

The reality is more like a rather intricate set of guidelines and a big heavy grinding machine of accountability breathing hot on your neck. I always felt more like a pebble between the glacier and the bedrock, than some princely hero with favors to dispense. But I guess not everyone sees it that way.

Still, when I gave up public life, I was surprised to learn that just being mayor of Elberton could get me in such trouble. Ow! I sure hope these guys have had their shots. It’s an anointed position, mine is, and instead of being elected in the normal way, I was named to the post by the incumbent who hadn’t had all that much to do since city government ceased in 1963. My credentials are in his handwriting on the back of a photo taken in 1983, which anyone may inspect if you visit my office, forty times a day if you want. Light duties, and rather few constituents, but one of them is my dog.

Now it’s pretty well spelled out how much I should feed him, so he doesn’t get fat, and mostly so the city doesn’t go broke.

He wants more.

He thinks its my job to give him more.

I tell him the rules, I tell him there is only so much to go around, but he’s not having it, he wants it brought to his door and he wants it now.

We used to be such chums (like the salmon, you know) but this has really come between us.

We’ve tried to talk it through.

I don’t think wine is good for dogs, but I would gladly drink to his health, and he could bring home his rotten deer bones, and we would kick it around.

But negotiation has failed, and it seems we have moved on to another level.

I should give him more, even if the bin goes empty.

I should make there be more than there is, and if I won’t, then I am a Real Bad Guy.

I am not serving my public, I am in the service of some Evil Agenda, as yet unspecified, which will do I dunno what (roll me in the lap of luxury?) but will not help him get rich quick.

Darn.

So he has brought a friend, who means no harm, but sure loves a good scrap.

Growl growl.

Wink.

They are going to have me thrown out of office.

Did you know you can do that? Just unilaterally decide to have some duly elected dude thrown out where the teeth gnash and there is wailing? And here I thought this was the United States of America.

Well, live and learn.

They stoutly maintain that this is no vendetta though they have been quoted as calling their doghouse a “war room.” I am too lazy to go get my dictionary, but I am almost sure there is some linkage between the two words, like a vendetta being a sort of extra-legal war, perhaps.

Don’t necessarily have to do anything illegal.

Pour lots of sand in the gears of guvmint and see if you can slow down my abuse of the public trust.

And now they have gone to my employer! They found out that while I was spoze to be tuning pianos, I was actually calling around trying to get a better price on a roof for the dog house, and taking calls (gasp) from the dog food people, veterinarians, and others with whom I do dirty deals. Caught in the act! They have offered to hold their merciful hand if only I will play ball, but I am one hardened sinner, and now I am toast. Hopefully, this malfeezunce will cost me my job, with a little jail time thrown in. Boss is pretty mad all right, he’s looking into it. My only hope is, I’m self- employed.

So anyway, that’s why my leg hurts. Goes with holding public office. Maybe they will lose interest after a while, and go work on the Palin campaign. On the bright side, they both have a hold below the knee. I could lose that much and still have a good life. They are growling loudly but it’s a funny thing, they can’t seem to keep their tails from wagging. Does anyone else get the feeling they are having the time of their lives?

So any other mayors who might, God forbid, find themselves in a parallel situation, take heart. I was all set to crow a bit, thinking that by waiting until my town had finished absorbing the effects of whatever is the opposite of economic stimulus (flood, fire and the Model T Ford?) I should have avoided all this. But, no. By getting in there while you still guess you didn’t do any worse, and maybe a whole lot better. Fine-tuning the democracy should correct the process eventually. Hang in there, soldier on, and God bless.

If it isn’t a funny story now, perhaps it will be some day. Ow!

John Elwood,

Elberton