The Name Game

In writing today's story on the impending DRB relocation, I noted that the Herald's spell-check wanted me to change Mike Coppinger's last name to "Cow-puncher."

I, for one, think it would be awesome if he were named that and would feel compelled to write more about the DRP just to see "Cow-puncher" in print over and over again.

For fun, and to put off doing actual work, I decided to see what I got for the names of a few other local officials.

Thw big winner was new Alderman Chris Siliski, whose name came back as "Silkiest." Ed Larson became "Ed Arson," one more reason for me to keep an eye on him. Alderman Jon Kiernan turned into "Crayoning," while City Attorney Andrew Costello presented another product-placement opportunity with "Castor-Oil."

Right about now, some of you are thinking, "Yeah, Dritschilo, how about your name, huh?" An entirely fair question. Once upon a time, it probably came back with something pretty good, but the system here has long since learned to recognize my multi-linguistic oddity of a surname.

We now return you to your regulary scheduled program.

Parking Plans

Apparently, Mayor Christopher Louras objects to having his grand downtown parking plan referred to as his grand downtown parking plan. At least, that seemed to be the gist of a note I found taped to my computer screen yesterday after having called in sick Monday.

It is definitely a plan. It is definitely about parking downtown. Grand, I will admit, is subjective but I think I'm entitled to a little artistic license in the weekly column. The mayor's objection, according to the note, is that the plan that is being assembled under his direction and that he will present (and presumably advocate) to the Board of Aldermen is not his "in a vacuum," but will have to fulfill requirements laid out by the Legislature in Act 40.

Fair enough. I suppose it's good that I didn't go with my original name for it, "The Mayor Louras Parking Plan Written Entirely by Mayor Louras and Nobody Else."

Meanwhile, Alderman Ed Larson has offered his own (for now) plan on changing downtown parking, which he has circulated in an email:

Following the tack of the City of Saratoga Springs, New York; Rutland should eliminate the parking meters downtown entirely, substituting a different system for tagging vehicles who park in violation of our ordinances.   Based on projections I have obtained from the City Treasurers Office, the parking meter fund is not currently self sufficient, and by a structured change this could be turned around to a first year balance in the positive of $50,000.00+.   Based on increased fines for violations and hiring two part time workers.   One of the concerns that seems repetitive from merchants is the all day parkers at the meter spaces who simply feed the meters. 

The City would eliminate the meters entirely; which would be an aesthetic improvement downtown.  Thus eliminating the costs of meter replacement, maintenance, batteries, poles, etc.  Also eliminating the cost of two full time police officers from the P.M.F. fund.   The change would be to hire two part time employees (under the auspices of the Treasurers Office) at perhaps $15.00 per hour, no more than thirty (30) hours per week each.  The two police officers assigned to the beat would now have responsibilities for downtown safety issues and calls, and be available to "patrol" the Transit Center if we accept it; providing workers and shoppers with a better sense of security.  The police officers pay would be relegated back to the Police Department budget.  Additionally, the Treasurers Office would no longer have to deal with coinage and the associated costs incurred through the Loomis System.  The City could sell the meters, collection carts, etc. and return the revenues to either the General Fund or Parking Fund.  Rename the Parking Meter Fund; Parking Fund.

The City could maintain monthly parking passes for street parking in the zones on Court Street, etc. where eight hour meters currently are in place.  Anyone with a pass could park for the entire day, while those without would be limited also to two hour parking.  The civilian part time employees would simply chalk tires and monitor vehicle movement, issuing tickets in violation of the two hour limitations.   If a vehicle is found to be on the boot list, then police could be summoned to attach the boot.

I fully recognize the pros and cons to such a system; however I believe that this could be an incentive to move parkers into the Transit Center, who monopolize meters downtown for most of the day.  Coupled with enforcement of the Amtrak Lot, etc. this would benefit shoppers and visitors who find difficulty locating metered spaces, particularly on busy days of the week.

He goes on to provide a spreadsheet (that I'm not even going to try to reformat to fit in here) that seems to back up his $50,000 claim.

At this moment, Californians are making fun of us...

CNN is treating the Virginia-centered earthquake that just sent some minor tremors our way as a huge story, but I have yet to see or hear of anything breaking so I'm having trouble getting excited.

If, like me, you have no idea what means what on the Richter Scale, you might benefit from this Wikipedia excerpt:

5.0-5.9  Moderate. Can cause minor damage to poorly constructed buildings over small regions. At most slight damage to well-designed buildings

The entry says there are about 800 earthquakes in this magnitude range every year.

 

 

Monday morning linkdump

Good morning, regular readers and people showing up for the first time because I plugged the blog in my weekly column!

I'll be back later with a more properly "local" post, but I thought I'd start the day out by directing you all to two pieces from elsewhere in the blogosphere that relate to issues here in Rutland.

First, I thought our local food types would be interested in this look at what the beer industry can teach the food industry. Short version: A couple of mega-breweries make the vast majority of America's beer, most of it flavorless swill, but deregulation under Carter paved the way for the craft beer explosion, meaning those of us who realize Miller Lite has no taste, no matter what those stupid ads claim, can find proper beer wherever we go.

On a less fun note, this look at sex offender registries claims they are not doing any good. The post also says something that I always believed, that sex offenders have a higher recidivism rate, isn't true.

Plagiarism is the sincerest form of flattery

It was bad enough last week, when Jim Sabataso taunted me because he knows what the super-secret "electrical utility issue" is and won't tell me.

(Let the local conspiracy theorists stew over that for a bit.)

Now, he has taken a subject from this blog for a post on his blog. Sure, he credited me, but did he link back here? Nope.

Is it because he doesn't know how to put links in his posts? Is it because it's too hard for him to make changes when he's cutting and pasting previously published essays onto his blog? Is it because he and Ed Larson have joined in an unholy alliance to drive me insane?

The silver lining in all this, for me, is knowing that I'm not the only one who, while waiting to turn left onto East Washington, fantasizes about blasting through the light, proudly declaring my defiance like Alexander Portnoy daring the cops to come and get him for ripping one of those "do not remove" tags off a mattress.

Have a good weekend, folks. See you Monday.

Edit: Oh, sure, now he puts a link in -- or gets someone to do it for him.

Fix it again, Tony

In light of today's story on the Fiat-owners' club, I feel I should disclose that my parents owned a Fiat when I was growing up.

I couldn't tell you the model other than that it was a white station wagon. While it had its share of problems -- and then some -- it was not the most troublesome car we had. For that, you would have to look to an early '60s Austin-Healey my father bought (a wheel came off while my mother was getting groceries in it) and a Toyota (I think) that we got from my grandparents and subsequently named "The Antichrist."

We managed to drive the Fiat (along with a stripped-down Nissan Sentra) from Los Angeles to Brandon when we moved back to Vermont. The main thing I remember about it was that the front passenger-side door got stuck closed, which I thought was the greatest thing in the world because I could climb in and out of the window pretending I was on "Dukes of Hazzard."

Parking redux

I'm heading to the Community and Economic Development Committee tonight, where they are again talking about downtown resident parking.

The city was supposed to have a comprehensive discussion of this subject, but I can't remember much more than hemming and hawing over the parking deck since a woman was issued a temporary pass to park overnight in the pit during the winter.

Our deadlines are still early, despite the new printing arrangement, so the story will be online tomorrow but will not hit print until Saturday.

Perfect timing

Just this morning, I wondered whatever happened to Punk in the Park.

A moment ago, while I was on my afternoon caffiene run, two scary-looking young men handed me a flier for "Punk in the Park 6," which starts at Noon (although a website listed on the flier says not until 1 p.m.) Sept. 3 in Main Street Park.

The line-up has nine (only seven on the website) bands, most of which have appropriate-sounding names -- although I'm assuming "USA Waste" is a band and not a sponsor.

I'm just happy I still look young enough to appreciate a flier for a punk show.

Who was Ethan Allen?

Slate has a review of a new biography of Ethan Allen.

Allen's image as a great patriot takes a beating in the review, though it sounds like it is less challenged in the book. I guess history is only written by the winners for so long.

Overheard at City Hall

"Was this part of the policy on policies that was recently discovered and put into the policy book?"

-Alderman Charles Romeo

Why, yes, I am picking on him by taking a quote out of context. I do this with a clean conscience because knowing the context as I heard it did nothing to reduce my desire to bang my head against the table.