Some things simply thwart our understanding. Confronted with vast, unfathomable phenomena ... well, as Bob Dylan reminds us, "the human mind can only stand so much." Which is probably why the jury in the Rod Stewart trial apparently gave up, after three hours last week, trying to grasp the convoluted language of the contract between the singer and the Rio, and, hell, just voted. (Stewart lost.) "This was the best conclusion we felt was fair to both parties," the jury foreman told the R-J.
They were, in other words, trying their best. How mid-September of them. This is an unfinished time of year, after all; school is barely under way, football season has just started ... it's a time of still getting our act together, of good ideas that don't quite work out.
For example, the specter of government conspiracies in the vital matter of orchard-to-residential zone changes. At issue: building homes on the beloved Gilcrease orchard, which many neighbors oppose. A spate of contradictory e-mails from the county last week (No, the issue won't be before the commission. Wait, yes it will!) had at least one opponent of the measure telling the R-J that it was a government ploy to curb the protest.
Nothing so ingenious or well-executed, alas. Just an instance of the county misunderstanding the city's position on the issue, thereby delaying, then undelaying, the discussion. "There were a lot of miscommunications between the county and the city," Commissioner Chip Maxfield understated. Hey, it happens in mid-September. Last week, as the city continued investigating a rezoning proposal from golf course mogul Billy Walters, the county OK'd a change in the property's land-use designation—a strong step in Walters' favor. The decision stunned the mayor into giving the R-J a rare one-word quote: "Interesting." He's trying his best to wrap his bobblehead around it.
Although it's no Rod Stewart contract, the wording of state insurance information can be textual harrassment, a fact that became a point of contention during a recent state meeting on insurance costs. An administrator defended his information materials, but state Sen. Barbara Buckley wasn't buying: "If you think you're doing an admirable job, we're in trouble." Now there's your jury foreman when the Aladdin sues Kelly Clarkson for cancelling last week's concert.
Since we're talking about hard-to-decipher prose and people convinced they're doing an admirable job, this discussion leads us, as it must, to the R-J editorial page. A piece this week defended California companies that set up dummy corporations in Nevada to evade the Golden State's high taxes. Is that so wrong?
"No more than it was a 'scam' or 'fraudulent scheme' for the wisest heads of families to gather up whatever wealth they could carry and flee the confiscatory policies of Lenin or the Nazis ..."
Yes, it could have been the "confiscatory policies." Or it could have been, you know, the specter of genocide. But, hey, it's mid-September; I'm sure the writer is trying his best.
Let's Do the Math! |
+2 Encouraged by his strong showing in the U.S. Open, where he reached the finals, Andre Agassi decides not to retire. Whew! So the minivan isn't a sign ...
+2 Kelly Clarkson cancels show at Aladdin last week. (Who says prayer doesn't work?)
+1 Median Vegas housing prices rise to all-time high of $309,000 in August. Great news if you're selling ...
-1 ... a little less worth celebrating if you're buying.
Final Score
+4
Well, OK, the Bodies and Human Misery Were Pretty Bad, Too |
Writing about "the most disturbing thing I saw on television" during the Katrina coverage, R-J columnist and Category 5 doofus Vin Suprynowicz attacked—you guessed it—welfare recipients for thinking that "the cash redistribution agency known as 'government'" owed them assistance. Finally, the real villains unmasked.
Thursdays with Oscar |
We Observe the Mayor's Weekly Press Conference So You Don't Have to
Date: September 8
Summary: As Goodman recited his list of recent activities, it was clear it's been a time of ups and downs. On the up side, he got to visit the Spy Museum in Washington, D.C., and call it work—he was looking for ideas about what to do with the Downtown post office. On the down side, he lost the Pinewood Derby ... again. Up: He had several opportunities to indulge one of his favorite pastimes—ladling his charm onto reporters—as he was interviewed by the Summerlin News, a Galveston, Texas, daily and the Denver Post. Down: His ceremonial pitch at a 51s game was, he said, the third worst of the eight he's thrown, although we have no independent confirmation from the Bill James stat compilers. At least it was Goodman bobblehead night (up? down? so hard to tell). Talk turned to Katrina, where the ups and downs were somewhat more pronounced. The mayor recalled meeting a planeload of evacuees: "The most poignant way I can describe what took place," he said, "is that when the luggage cart came out to pick up their baggage, there was no baggage." One person, Goodman said, asked only for some clean underwear. As for this city's disaster preparedness, he was unequivocal. "I think we're ready for any catastrophe that happens here," he said. Wait—is he serious? Yep. "We're in a position where everyone knows what they're supposed to do." Oscar for FEMA head!
Scott Dickensheets is a Weekly writer at large. Give him crap (or cake) at
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