The End of an Era

When I was in my first year of college, 1989, my dad decided to run for public office, County Commissioner, to be exact. I remember having one of his campaign cards on my corkboard in my dorm room. At the time, I don't think I really even knew what that was. "He's running for what?" and "What's that?" In the years following I realized how important this position really is. We stress the importance of our national elections, and they're definitely important, but the decisions that are made on a local scale are the ones that effect us on an every day basis. For the next 20 years, he spent a lot of time talking on the phone and attending meetings. Lots of meetings. This year he has decided not to run for re-election. He retired from his job earlier this year and he's retiring from public service now. While I think he will really miss this opportunity to serve, he and mom think they will have (know they will have) a lot more time to camp and vacation without being tied down by meetings.

I am ashamed to admit that Thursday night was the first time I had been to a commission meeting, and it was his last one. We went because we knew he was going to be recognized for his 20 years of service and we wanted to be there for that. As I was sitting there I realized the real reason I hadn't been to any of the meetings. I am angered too easily. Before they get to the actual meat of the meeting, they have an open forum time for the public to make statements. Three minutes. Each person who wishes to speak gets three minutes. Three long minutes. There's a timer on the wall that counts them down, then turns red when they're out of time. When they're out of time, though, they continue to speak. They. Just. Keep. Talking. I think it should be like that Know or Go game on Ellen - the floor should just open up and swallow them after three minutes. In reality, just turning off their microphone at the end of their three minutes would suffice (but wouldn't be nearly as satisfying or entertaining). And the stuff they come there to talk about? Oh my. I had the uncontrollable urge to roll my eyes. I have never felt the need for eye rolling as strongly as I did that night. I looked up at all of the commissioners sitting in front wondering if they were really listening. CAN you really listen to that for twenty minutes or so without needing deep medication? Anthony and I decided they may be playing Solitaire on their laptops. Or on Facebook. While they seemed to be attentively listening I wanted a gong. And as Dad explained to me later, everyone has a right to be heard. Hmmm.....

While the droning was going on, I took some pictures.

I think my mom and I were occupying ourselves in a very similar manner. Afterwards, we compared notes on water spots on the ceiling, peeling paint, and who clapped for which speaker - you can tell a lot by sitting on the back row in a County Commission meeting.

Since I had never been to a meeting, I didn't know how technologically advanced they had become. There's this nifty screen on the wall so you can see exactly who votes for or against every item. And who skipped out on the meeting altogether. This excited me for some reason.

Before getting on with the meeting, they recognized all of the outgoing commissioners.

While we complained over the years about the time he spent attending meetings and gathering information, we knew that it was something he really enjoyed. And something he was good at.

This is not a job you can keep for 20 years if you aren't really, REALLY good at it.

Dad, we're very proud of you and what you have accomplished in the last 20 years. Good work!