Based on the content of this week’s edition, I’m reckoning many readers expect some editorial commentary on the subject matter. Prepare to be disappointed, because all that is contained within these pages is an eye-dropper of information next to an oil drum of data.
As mentioned in the article taking a majority of available column inches this week, the DMC has been looking through a mountain of records. Some are connected to one another over space and time. Others tell a linear story, and those stories sometimes have gaps. Still other pieces are both actual and metaphorical snapshots of a moment that help create a mosaic image of a complex situation.
What we end up with is a real-time mystery. It sounds sexy, like something from a Humphrey Bogart movie or an Agatha Christie novel. The reality, however, is far less like the noir of a black-and-white hard-boiled detective and more like trying to find profanity in the complete works of Shakespeare while the theme song from Jeopardy plays on a continuous loop.
And while we are sifting through a mountain of records, we’re also developing a record of our own, which also has to be checked and maintained as it evolves. Portions of the article are tied to our internal 50+ page investigation report.
Of course, this also took place simultaneously with our community obligations to report on the daily, weekly, and monthly affairs of our local governments. We still made it to the city council meetings, sat in on commissioners courts, school board, and hospital district deliberations.
DMC staff also produced outstanding photos of sporting events, attended political forums, and hosted a forum of our own, followed by sit-downs with candidates that agreed to an interview. I personally think speaks well of our dedication, as the DMC staff consists of three people, with the occasional assistance from our now adult-age children and their spouses.
To say the least, the DMC has been busy lately.
Our intention was to get this report out much earlier, but as mentioned in the article, there were records still coming in even in the middle of the night while drafting it. Other records are being compiled, still pending, being opined, or tied up in legal disputes.
Those close to me are aware of my deep affinity for children and the wide lagoon of patience I allow them to splash around in. Children, however, are the primary beneficiaries of my patience allotment, and I rarely put much slack in the line between myself and one who would prefer to build walls instead of bridges.
The press — especially a free and fairly nosey one — often finds itself in a situation where we stand, armed with a squeegee, in front of the grimy windows of government transparency as officials lower the blinds and lock the doors from inside.
“I’ll take the fallacy of open government for 800, Alec.” … let the theme song begin.
Citizens didn’t inherit this system so they could stand outside in the rain and guess what’s happening in the room. The whole point of open government is that the people doing the governing are supposed to do it in the open, under the lights, and within earshot of the folks paying for those lights.
But the system only works if citizens insist on maintaining it. Rights that aren’t exercised become suggestible options that become easy to ignore when a political bouncer decides you’re not on the list.
So if you find yourself stuck on the wrong side of the velvet rope: the answer isn’t always fistfight with the bouncer. Remember who the club owner works for and know that the solution is often just a ballot box away.