agenda for 5/19 cultural affairs commission

OK, so I blew it and did not let people know about the Oakland Cultural Affairs Commission meeting this past Monday. It happened to contain a tish-load of action items regarding public art commissions all over town and the approval of the cultural funding program package.

This is what I had to do:

  • recuse myself from the item that approved the review panel for the open proposals program because mocha has a open proposal in front of the open proposal review panel.
  • recuse myself again from the item that approved the cultural funding program recommendations for the cultural funding program because mocha has two recommendations for funding inside of that.

Recusing is fun. Before the item came up I just left my seat and walked out of the room, sitting on the steps in the City Hall rotunda, studying just how Doric the interior is. When I say Doric, I mean Dull. The 70s Disco Ball chandelier is still stunning, however, and I had a magical moment of staring at it while it was turned on for the evening. How Times Square.

Dan Fontes came out on his cell phone attempting to help caller Randolph Belle deal with a flat tire. I think Randy asked Dan where he was, and Dan said: commission meeting. Then in a few seconds he said: No, just the same old shit. That’s when I put my head in my hands.

Here’s the tricky part: When I left the room the Commission momentarily lost its quorum. So it couldn’t vote on the action items I was conflicted about. So I might as well go back in, I thought. But then it would gain a quorum and take up the action item. But I had a conflict with that action item. So I had better stay put and not listen to Dan.

I looked up at the ceiling and squinted: perhaps the answer was hanging there, or I could pretend it was. Many many many moments passed. I can’t tell you exactly how many. It was as if much weed had been smoked, and the simplest decision about the order of events was lost to me forever, due to a dank, bureaucratic overlay. The door to the chamber opened and a big wafting aroma of Kafka bloomed out the portal.

It’s official: I’m Part Of The Problem.

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