COLUMN: Council

There's a teeny tiny power-hungry part of me that's always wanted to go into politics.

The only problem is that I'm not especially politically-minded. Or motivated, passionate, or knowledgeable. Granted, none of those challenges seemed to stop our current commander-in-chief from ascending to power, but I'd like to think an effective politician should know a thing or two about, well, politics.

It's probably not for me. I'm busy enough as is. Of course, were I to actually run for office, I'd end up with loads of free time, because I'm pretty sure it's frowned upon to be a candidate while working for the very media that would be reporting on your campaign. Next week's column? "Why I'm Awesome." The week after? "BREAKING NEWS: Shane Continues To Be Awesome!" Yeah, that probably wouldn't fly.

So I'll leave politics to the politicians -- but maybe I can poke my head in every once in a while. Earlier this week, I got a taste of our local political machine -- and it was kinda fun, except when it was kinda terrifying.

For someone with a college degree in Speech Communications, I'm pretty lousy at public speaking. I usually stammer, break into a flopsweat, and make eye contact only with the ground. But last Monday, I somehow found myself behind a podium, microphone pointed at my face, addressing the Rock Island City Council while trying super hard not to have a stroke.

Anyone can do it. You just need to show up, write your name on a sign-up sheet, and the council gives you five minutes to say whatever's on your mind (within reason.) I had six minutes worth of things on my mind, which explains why I talked really fast. 

What was so important as to have risked a full-on public panic attack? Well, this week the city council voted on whether or not to roll back the closing time of bars and nightclubs in the Rock Island District from 3 a.m. to 2 a.m. There's few things I'm passionate about, but that's one of them. If you're a regular reader of my column, you probably know why. 

I normally spend my weekends moonlighting behind a DJ booth in the District. When Mayor Thoms issued an emergency order last month to roll back our closing time to 2 a.m., I saw our crowds drop from 500+ to literally 18 people. I ended up (hopefully temporarily) losing my job, and that's a bummer. My cats do NOT appreciate good mixing the same way a packed crowd in the District does.

The timing could've been a LOT better. I fully realize the absurdity of arguing for clubs to stay open late when we're in the middle of a pandemic. If it were up to me, we wouldn't be open at ALL until COVID gets under control. But this council vote was to make the time change PERMANENT, and there's no need for that. God willing, one day we'll be on the other side of this virus -- and when that day comes, I want you visiting me on the dancefloor. The clubs of the District rely on that late closing time to maintain patrons and profitability. Without it, the District might not survive.

You might hold a different opinion, and that's fine. I'm not here to plead my case. I did enough of that on Monday, and it was mentally exhausting.

Having a front row seat to the inner workings of a city council, though, was enlightening. The District vote was something like the 24th item on their agenda, so I got to bear witness to a whole lotta governing, and it was every bit as action-packed as you'd think. 

I got to hear the Mayor declare July 26th as Americans With Disabilities Day, which was neat. I got to see McManus Orthodontics win the Keep Rock Island Beautiful Award for June, which was well-deserved. I got to see the Mayor issue an official proclamation encouraging adherence to COVID-19 guidelines, which was a prime example of why you should keep me out of politics, because MY official proclamation would be less "encouraging" and more like "WEAR A [EXPLETIVE] MASK OR ITS THE STOCKS FOR YOU, MORON!" Stocks were underrated.

Mostly, it was an evening of motions and seconds and ayes and nays and council members having to refer frequently to Robert's Rules of Order. I'm not sure who Robert is, and I'm too lazy of a journalist to look him up -- but I think it's safe to say he probably wasn't ever the life of any party. Robert literally wrote the book on parliamentary procedure, and he's probably the guy who wouldn't let his family play Monopoly until the entire rules were read aloud and agreed upon by a simple majority of the family quorum. Thanks to Robert and his rules, a simple discussion about abandoned real estate turned into a motion to approve a proposal to develop a program for a future vote... I think.

But all in all, I was wowed by the way our city leaders went about their business with courtesy, respect, and consideration. (By this, I mean no one pelted me with tomatoes while I was speaking.) Honestly, though, it was cool to see in person. Running a town can't be easy, especially in our COVID era where many members were joining remotely with mixed results. One councilmember chimed in with, and I quote, "I'm -- with the other -- establishment of -- is the city ordin -- I am told that." I'm glad I'm not the only one sitting at home these days cursing my iffy internet connection.

Politics might be fun, but probably not for me. I'm too thin-skinned for the political landscape. I want everyone to like me, and when you're in charge of making decisions, you'll invariably displease some people. That takes guts, and I commend our city councils for taking on that job.

As for the District vote? Well, I guess we won -- kinda. The council voted in favor of the 2 a.m. closing time, but it wasn't the supermajority needed to pass. For now, the District can remain open until 3 a.m. So next time you're out in the wee hours and there's NOT a horrible virus plaguing our fragile Earth, come see me. I'll make you dance, even if it's from six feet away. Stay safe, all.