Our much-anticipated election has come and gone and our sensitive liberal friends are in the midst of a national nervous breakdown.

It may be cold comfort, but trust me – this too shall pass.

Perhaps its time to finish the hot cocoa, put the fuzzy woobie away, pick-up the soaked crying towels and get back to school, work, or whatever it is you do to contribute to our societal welfare.

I’m kidding of course.  I understand the agony of loosing a tough contest, but I still believe that American’s can fundamentally disagree on political issues and still care about one another – in fact, I can’t think of anything more purely American.

It’s time we all come together behind President-elect Trump and support the peaceful transition of power.

We owe it to our democratic process – and our nation.

On the local front, the Volusia County Council has a new chairman-elect in Ed Kelley – and the District 4 seat will be filled by Heather Post – following a weird, hard-fought campaign against her opponent, Al Smith.

I want to take this opportunity to congratulate both Mr. Kelley and Mrs. Post – and extend my best wishes for success.  After all, they will represent our collective interests and be accountable for serving as good stewards of our hard-earned tax dollars.  They deserve our support until their actions prove otherwise.

In my view, given the train wreck that is county government, they have nowhere to go but up.

They say the devil is in the details – and in Volusia County – that old maxim continues to hold true.

I recently wrote a screed venting my spleen on the Volusia County Council’s latest buggering by uber-wealthy power broker, Mori Hosseini, President of ICI Homes and Chairman of the Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University’s Board of Trustees.

You may recall the shameless money-grab by Mr. Hosseini and ERAU Interim President Karen Holbrook which ultimately netted the private university some $1.5-million in taxpayer dollars – cash – coupled with the “sale” of public property near Clyde Morris and Bellevue to the college for half its appraised value.

Now, you might think strutting out of the council chambers with over $2-million dollars in public funds and assets would have satisfied the big guy.

Not hardly.

When you’re the High Panjandrum of Volusia County, you get what you want – when you want it.  Unfortunately for us, this most recent debacle will be the gift that keeps on giving.

Check this out:

Prior to the county council’s vote to literally give publicly owned property to ERAU, Mr. Hosseini had the brass to ask (read: direct) County Manager Jim Dinneen to use even more of our tax dollars to fund any environmental clean-up that may be required prior to the transfer.

I’ll give Mori this – he’s got some stones.

For years, the land in question housed the county’s B-1 Barn – a heavy maintenance and storage facility.  You can bet your bippy that there will be extensive hazardous materials remediation required, such as oil and fluids in the soil, chemical contamination, etc.

Do you think your elected representatives took the opportunity to remind Mr. Hosseini that you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth?

Or that, given the bargain basement price, perhaps the university should foot the clean-up costs?

Do you think they looked out for our interests at all?

No.  They didn’t.

But they damn sure made certain that Mr. Hosseini’s concerns were met.

According to the official minutes of the meeting, “Mr. Dinneen said if it turned out to be a problem, he would take the matter to the council.”   

So, Mori and ERAU walked out of the council chambers with our money – and our land – and now you and I are also stuck with the bill for environmental restoration that I have no doubt will be far more than the $10,000 to $15,000 Little Jimmy estimates.

You may remember he also said Hurricane Matthew debris would be collected in just 20-days – knowing that was physically impossible.

Let’s face it, Jim Dinneen has proven time-and-again that he is incapable of telling the truth.

In fact, he’s a baldfaced liar.

For instance, to make certain this slimy land deal comports with laws prohibiting just these types of quid pro quo transfers of public assets for private advantage; the resolution was constructed with the patently fraudulent verbiage, the “County owned real property is not needed for county purposes and required for public or community interest and welfare.”

Please don’t tell me that ERAU’s research park – the “Micaplex” – will benefit anyone’s “interest and welfare” other than Mori’s hand-selected business partners.

In my view, the evidence increasingly suggests that Mr. Hosseini is using the university as a conduit to access public funds – and Jim Dinneen is facilitating the con through sleight-of-hand and old fashioned mismanagement.

It’s painful to watch.

During the meeting, council member Pat Patterson all but prostrated himself before the Master and evoked his role as the county’s representative to “Team Volusia” – our government funded do-nothing “economic development” experiment – in supporting the public property giveaway.

With the timing of a Swiss watch, the half-priced sale of public land to a private entity was unanimously approved by the full council.

As though the outcome was ever in doubt.

On this Veteran’s Day 2016, I want to republish this piece from earlier this year and dedicate it to all those brave men and women who answered the call to serve in defense of our great nation.  We owe them a debt that cannot be repaid:

In 1979, my best friend Mike Lowe and I enlisted at the old U.S. Army recruiting station on Ridgewood Avenue when skipping classes at Daytona Beach Community College got old. . .

We were 19-years old when we boarded a Greyhound bus for Ft. McClellan, Alabama.

I want to begin by saying that my time in service pales in comparison with others – in fact, it doesn’t deserve to be mentioned in the same company with those of you who fought in combat, deployed to a war zone, or actually sacrificed during peacetime.

You have my utmost thanks and respect this Veterans Day, and every day.

I wasn’t a recruiting poster soldier, I’ll admit.

Like most, I complained about everything – it’s too hot, it’s too cold, hurry up and wait, etc. – and to say that we had more fun than any two Army Privates before or since is an understatement.

I didn’t earn any medals – but I did drink a lot of beer.

Today, when someone asks me what I did in the Army I say, “I can’t tell you.” And they ask, “Classified?”, and I say, “No. Statute of Limitations. . .”

While Mike was promoted to Specialist 4^th Class, I was reduced in rank due to company-level discipline three times – I spent A LOT of time on KP and extra-duty – and I deserved every miserable minute of it.

(In fact, I think I’ve personally cleaned out every grease trap in every mess hall from here to West Point. . .)

While I can’t take much pride in my personal contribution – I am extremely proud of what the Army gave to me:

They took an irresponsible, stupid little boy and made a man in a very short period of time. (Thank you Senior Drill Sergeant Ainsworth – I owe you more than you know.)

They taught me valuable skills that formed the foundation of a very successful law enforcement career – in fact, Military Police School was among the best police training I ever experienced – and that includes the FBI National Academy.

They taught me to respect tradition – and the importance of committing yourself to something larger than your own self-interest.

They taught me how to put ego aside and work cooperatively with a group of diverse people to achieve a common goal.

They taught me attention to detail.

They taught me to never quit – and that you can always put one foot in front of the other – despite how tired, sick and beat-down you may think you are.

They gave me a sense of pride and patriotism that only someone who has endured basic recruit training in the armed forces can appreciate.

And best of all, the experience allowed me the opportunity to serve with some of the finest men and women I have ever known – some of whom fought in Viet Nam, and others who went on to serve with distinction in Iraq and Afghanistan.

All of them remain life-long friends.

After six years – by the grace of God – I received an Honorable Discharge (Pvt. E-2) from the 345th Military Police Company (EG) U.S. Army Reserve.

It seems the older I get the prouder I am of this wonderful experience – and the men and women I served with.

Thank you to all who answered the call and served in defense of this great nation.

I am extremely proud to have played a very, very small part, and I always will be.

American’s are waking up this morning and greeting a brand-new day – in more ways than one.

Overnight, our world changed.

As Gerald Ford said in the aftermath of the Watergate tragedy, “Our long national nightmare is over” – and I’m not talking about the change in political power in this country.

This grueling election cycle was ghastly – and a true learning experience for smart people who paid attention.

Friends, family and whole segments of our society remain bitterly divided, not so much by partisan politics, but by the simmering ideological differences that have been suppressed in this country for too long.

These include our national policies (or lack thereof) on immigration, trade, Washington gridlock, almost two decades of war, domestic social issues, and our dwindling national standing in the world – tough problems that trigger strong emotions.

Elections are about preserving and progressing our Republic.

And despite the best efforts of some of our most trusted institutions, democracy prevailed.

Our national media proved that high-level politics are hard-fought battles with no rules of engagement.  Unfortunately, the press also demonstrated the depth to which uber-wealthy corporations, and those who control them, will stoop to force an artificial agenda.

In my view, that crossed a line.

Because President Elect Donald Trump was an “outsider” – someone who has never held public office, and whose positions on the issues of the day were often diametrically opposed to the talking heads, political pundits and Hollywood’s limousine liberals – he, and his followers, were dismissed as ‘deplorable’ and worse.

To say election coverage was divisive doesn’t come close to describing what we collectively experienced.

And at the end of the day, the media didn’t just get it wrong – they imploded right before the eyes of the world.

In fact, the clear majority of our corporate controlled media outlets – and the political pollsters who feed them –  were so laser-focused on coordinating prejudice, abusing their influence, and openly manipulating the outcome of our national election that they lost sight of their important purpose.

In my view, once respected journalists will have a hard time washing the blood from their hands and explaining to the American people why they ignored their professional ethics and journalistic standards when we needed their integrity most.

Perhaps the most destructive outcome of this mess is that the once venerated fourth estate no longer enjoys the public trust.

And that is a true problem.

In my view, it no longer matters which candidate you supported – like it or hate it – the people have spoken and the peaceful transition of power in the greatest nation in the world will soon begin.

In the aftermath of one of the most corrosive and polarizing elections in the history of our nation, now is the time to heal, to accept, and to demonstrate our patriotism and solidarity to our allies and enemies alike.

Let’s come together as American’s always do, and stand united in support of our new president.

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

There’s a land that’s fair and bright

Where the handouts grow on bushes

And you sleep out every night

Where the sun shines every day

Oh, I’m bound to go where there ain’t no snow

Where the rain don’t fall and the wind don’t blow

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

 — Haywire McClintock

 

Let’s be honest.

The Daytona Beach Regional Chamber of Commerce has a tough sell – and the recent “kick out the jams” coverage of their annual awards luncheon by the Daytona Beach News-Journal was an interesting read.

Rest easy.  All’s well on the “Fun Coast.”

Really?

Look, I understand the Chamber’s important role – and I’ve worked with their impressive 2016 chair, Teresa Rand, in my past life.  Good people who are passionate supporters of business and commerce in east Volusia County, and they do a wonderful job of staging our area in the most positive light possible.

In her “upbeat” report on the local economy, Rand said, “We all feel the energy that’s taking place in our community right now.”

Call me the perpetual Debbie Downer – but I’m not so optimistic.

Not feeling the whole ‘energy’ thing.

Unfortunately, in my view, the Chamber looks like the cheer-leading squad for the 1980 New Orleans Saints – crying inside, while outwardly smiling and enthusiastically rooting for a perennial loser – as we, the long-suffering fans, sit in the stands with paper bags on over our heads.

Watching our local ‘Trailblazers’ take credit for anything even remotely resembling an economic “achievement” is like staring at a pack of hungry dog’s pile on a bone.  I mean, is there any of our local “leaders” –  or the entities they represent – that haven’t used the same dubious “accomplishments” to convince us of their success and worth to the community?

Their collective triumphs include One Daytona, Tanger Outlets, and Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University’s research park – all of which were paid for, in whole or in part, with taxpayer dollars.

Add to that everyone-who-is-anyone’s “engagement” with the issues of blight and homelessness – a still festering quagmire that has not improved one jot since the “Occupation of Beach Street” – and you get the feeling that these folks will glom onto anything that makes them look relevant.

Hardly a ringing endorsement for the achievements of our local movers-and-shakers.

According to Eric Peburn, the chief financial officer of Halifax Health who will succeed Rand as chair in 2017, the Chamber has set lofty goals, to include revitalizing the city’s beachside, downtown, and the cruddy International Speedway Boulevard corridor.

That’s like saying, “I like ice cream.”  We all want that – but when?  

We’ve been listening to the same saw for years.

Typically, the Chamber of Commerce – much like Daytona Beach and Volusia County government – is long on hope, but short on a plan for getting us there.

“We need all those with the will and vision to get involved in this effort (to revitalize both ISB and the Boardwalk area) as it will reshape the image of Daytona Beach to the world class community designation it deserves,” Peburn said in an interview with The News-Journal.

Good luck with all that.

Look, I’m not knocking their enthusiasm – but we’ve heard it all before.

Anyone want to take a bet that come next year’s awards gala absolutely nothing will have changed on the beachside, downtown – or anywhere else?

Unfortunately, those with the “will and vision” (read: money and influence) are too busy manipulating elections for their own self-interests, and surreptitiously diverting our tax dollars for their private profit motives, to give two-shits about revitalizing anything.

That’s the way it is, and the way it shall be.

Until our business community gets fed up with the status quo and exerts their formidable collective influence to fundamentally change the way our elected and appointed officials govern, things will stay the same – and all the well-meaning “rah-rah” speeches and fancy luncheons in the Chamber’s repertoire won’t change anything.

 

 

I encourage all members of the Barker’s View team to join me in supporting DeBary’s elected Mayor, Clint Johnson, on this morning’s courageous announcement that he will not participate in the city’s illegal special election to name his successor.

Find Mayor Johnson’s announcement here: http://www.teamdebary.com

As everyone with a detectable pulse knows, this summer, the Fraudulent Four of the DeBary City Council intentionally misinterpreted provisions of the city’s charter – coupled with outright lies and deceitful “charges” cobbled together by disgraced former city manager Dan Parrott, and his toady, city attorney Kurt Ardaman.

To add a look of legitimacy to the charade – Ardaman snatched more taxpayer dollars to hire yet another outside law firm to prosecute the city’s “case” against Mayor Johnson.  When the table was set, they orchestrated a chilling kangaroo court where these filthy scam artists served as judge, jury and executioner.

Smart people stood by and witnessed what has been adopted by the Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders as the highest example of collective criminal insanity.

Four half-bright elected officials – each caught with their hand in the cookie jar – then led astray by perhaps the worst case of corrupt legal counsel ever perpetrated on a hapless elected body.

Just like that, the Fraudulent Four spit in the face of 240-years of sacred democratic principles and overturned the peoples vote like wiping something foul off their shoe.

Unbridled hubris.  Abject arrogance.

Now, the feckless vice mayor, Lita Handy-Peters, has temporarily clawed her way to power through a cheap coup d’etat.  For the time being, she sits in the catbird seat, regurgitating anything and everything Kurt Ardaman tells her to; all while pretending the citizens can’t see through her inept façade.

Don’t take my word for it – watch the meetings.

The unfortunate “interim mayor” snaps her head to take direction from Ardaman so frequently she looks like a Tourette’s victim.  It’s like watching some sick Pavlovian experiment – when it comes time to decide a question – Lita instinctively looks to her master like a chimp earning a peanut for combing his own hair.

The remainder of what passes for a city council sit on the dais and go through the motions like the haggard crew of a rudderless ship, while their embarrassment of an interim city manager, Ron McLemore, rocks himself to catatonia between pointless euphemisms that he thinks make him look wise.

To the long-suffering citizens of DeBary I say – hold on.  The worm is beginning to turn on this macabre cartoon.

Soon a legitimate circuit court judge will have the opportunity to review the powerful Writ of Certiorari so gracefully constructed by Johnson’s attorney, Doug Daniels.

Once a genuine jurist sinks his teeth into the heart of this con – trust me – things will change at DeBary City Hall.

Add to that the pending ethics inquiry and on-going criminal investigations by the Office of the State Attorney and the Florida Department of Law Enforcement and one gets the idea that things are about to get very interesting for Lita and the boys.

I also have it on good authority that the council’s old partner-in-crime, Long John Miklos, is about to have a Come to Jesus experience with the Florida Commission on Ethics – let’s wait and see.

Yes, our system of “Justice” takes a while to spool up – but once it does – it can be a magnificent thing to watch.

With any luck, these conspiratorial assholes will finally be hauled before the court for openly perverting our democratic system to hide their collective crimes – and several highly placed staff members will shudder every time the doorbell rings, hoping against hope that it’s not a United States Marshal with an arrest warrant.

For instance, Roger Van Auker and Eric Frankton should remember:  There is no such thing as paranoia.  Your worst career fears can and will come true.  And Kurt Ardaman’s ‘legal’ career will become a sad cautionary tale taught in law schools around the globe.

I hope all citizens of DeBary will join with your duly elected mayor and boycott this illegal and incredibly expensive ‘special election.’  In my view, to participate by casting your sacred vote only serves to legitimize the Fraudulent Four’s outrageous acts against our constitutionally protected rights and democratic values.

Besides – these giddy bastards have had their twisted way with all we hold dear for too long – and who’s to say they won’t simply overturn your future choice when it serves their own self-interests?

I suppose I sound like my father and grandfather before him, when I say, “In my day we. . .” followed by an abject condemnation of everything “new,” modern or progressive.

We had it tough – walked five-miles to school, uphill, both ways.

You get the picture.

It’s human nature, and I suppose the need to humble our juniors by pointing out how easy they have it started with Neanderthal man (“Stone tools?  We didn’t have any tools!  You wanted a Mastodon steak, you ripped it out with your teeth, son.  It’s why God gave you incisors.  Times were tough back in the Pleistocene, I tell you. . .”) 

The good-natured ‘humbling’ of our kids just progressed – or dissolved – from there.

Earlier this week, we learned of “hazing” allegations filed by the parent of an Atlantic High School student against head football coach Matt Dixon.  While returning from a recent game, Dixon ordered his players off the team bus and directed them to perform light calisthenics in a shopping center parking lot.

To their credit, the Volusia County School District conducted a timely investigation and determined that the issue was one of childish disrespect and open insubordination – rather than the physical and mental abuse of vulnerable youngsters.

It appears that several of the students – including the accuser’s son – were disruptive and refused reasonable attempts by responsible adults to stop the ruckus.  In turn, Dixon used the opportunity to reestablish his dominance as head coach, restore order, and engage in an effective team-building exercise before things escalated.

Apparently, the whole incident amounted to a few repetitions of a strength and agility drill called “up-downs” – an exercise they do every day at practice.

When the accuser’s son and a few others refused Dixon’s directive – they were asked to consider the ramifications of their decision, participate with the team, or turn in their equipment.

You know, the important life lesson of, “take responsibility for your own decisions” – cause and effect – being held accountable for your own acts and omissions.

Of course, the overexcited ‘helicopter mom’ attempted to validate her stupid attempt to ruin a young educator’s life and career by using her 15-minutes of professional victimhood to full effect.

According to an interview in the Daytona Beach News-Journal, Supermom (who I’m not identifying by name) said, “If you need to make them run drills, you do that at practice, at the school.  You do not do that in public; I am sorry.”

The hell you are.

You’re not sorry – but you will be – when Junior repeatedly boomerangs back into your spare room every time his feelings get bruised and he’s just to overwrought to stand on his own two feet as an adult.

In my view, this is a misguided parent intent on developing her son into a co-dependent, self-absorbed, hyper-sensitive tool with a strong sense of entitlement.

Unfortunately, she’s not alone.

Fact is, we’re raising a whole a generation of them.

Don’t believe me?  Just check the nearest ‘safe space’ at any college or university in the country.

(If you do, please be careful not to trespass on the “interactional” territory of any self-identified ethnic/gender/religious group who may feel offended or threatened by your own ethnicity, gender or religious preference. . . Fair warning.)

Bullying and hazing are sensitive topics these days – and well they should be.

The intentional infliction of demeaning, sadistic or punishing mental and physical abuse is ethically and morally wrong, and it should never be tolerated.  (Unless you’re into that.  Who am I to judge?)

Coach Dixon wasn’t abusing anyone.

During my basic military training, I was routinely subjected to the type of “hazing” I think our young mother is trying to describe.  In fact, our drill sergeants began “hazing” us long before daybreak and continued well past sundown.

Those guys brought the art and science of “hazing” to a whole new level.

They yelled.  They screamed.  They called us vile names.  They pushed us well beyond the point of what we thought was our point of exhaustion, and they physically “corrected” us whenever they felt it necessary.  (As a friend of mine experienced, “I’m not saying having your chest hair ripped out by the roots is fun – but I guarantee you’ll never leave the top button of your shirt undone again. . .”)

In addition to the physical challenges, the Army used subtle mental “hazing” as well.

There is nothing in the world like returning from an all-day forced march with full field gear, only to find that the training cadre have ransacked your barracks – bunks in a pile, mattresses out the windows, your locker upside down.

Builds character.

The intensity of our training was specifically designed for one purpose – to break us down as self-absorbed individuals then collectively build us back up as a disciplined and cohesive team.

Our military has been doing this with incredible success for over two-hundred years.

I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything.

I recently heard one of our nation’s most accomplished Special Forces commandos – a true ‘Tier 1’ operator with over 10-years of combat experience in Iraq and Afghanistan – explain that during his brutal military training and qualification he learned that there is no hardship that will befall him on any given day that he cannot survive and overcome.

It’s simply a matter of taking things as they come – and developing the mental toughness to never quit.  The ability to focus on the next second, minute, or hour until the objective is accomplished – then move on to the next challenge.

What a great metaphor for life.

My fear is that today’s misguided, but well-meaning, parents are so intent on intervening in every aspect of their child’s development that they are removing the all-important traits of self-reliance and the ability to overcome personal adversity.

Let them scrape a knee.  Take a punch and give one.  Stand up for themselves and others – and learn kindness, empathy and respect.

It won’t hurt them, and I guarantee they’ll thank you for it later.

Support your children.  But give them the tools they need to adapt and survive in an ever-changing and very dangerous world that will not be as kind, loving or caring to them as you are.

 

 

 

 

 

If you are a resident of Volusia County, you know things are ‘different’ here.

I’m talking Alternate Universe different.

Like many of you, I have the perspective of growing up in the Halifax area.  I know what it was like before the Volusia Mall came to town, when we shopped ‘Downtown,’ and if you were good a trip to Dunn Brother’s Toys made for a very special day.

If you still call the county administration building on Beach Street “Sears,” you know what I’m talking about.

Unfortunately, the years have not been kind to our community.

Like an aging beauty who was famous and popular once upon a time, now Daytona Beach suffers the indignity of neglect, even abuse.  Her once dapper and playful persona ravaged by withering blight born of greed.

Truth be told, the same can be said for many areas of Volusia County.

Those who pay the bills – the long-suffering taxpayers – are looked upon by what passes for “leadership” with utter disdain.  We are routinely lied to and ignored by our elected and appointed officials – and bullied by the big money donor class who consider our opinions a mere impediment to their bought-and-paid for place at the public trough.

The cancerous scourge of violent crime, drugs, homelessness and dilapidation have left scars on our once vibrant beachside – a place where those who invest in residential properties are looked upon by a weary populace like intrepid homesteaders in the Old West – gambling that their determination, sweat equity, and personal resiliency will somehow overcome the barren and hostile environment all around them.

All while our elected and appointed officials pompously point to a handful of development projects – all of which have been subsidized with public funds – as a means of showing off their ‘vision’ and commitment to revitalization.

Deep in their hearts they know – and we know – that so many of them are compromised bullshit artists – hacks who have lost the capacity for shame and have sold their soul, and their vote, to the latest speculative developer, resort-town grifter or old money power broker willing to throw down a Black American Express for appetizers, watery cocktails, and an ego stroke.

Don’t try to understand it.

It’s a closed system, and the powers that be don’t need or want your input – just pay the damned bills and shut the fuck up.

Know your role.

Occasionally we catch a glimpse of the greasy mechanism – the inner workings of what passes for governance in Volusia County and Daytona Beach – two isolated and dysfunctional entities who get on like Baby Jane and Blanche Hudson.

This week we had a fleeting opportunity to look behind the curtain when the Daytona Beach City Commission issued their annual performance evaluation of City Manager Jim Chisholm.

Now, please don’t labor under the mistaken impression that this is an independent outside management audit – or even an objective review of Chisholm’s actual work product.  It is merely the best guess of the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker who have been elected to high office with low expectations – and accept regurgitated “information” from Chisholm like baby birds in some foul nest.

Through the years, Mr. Chisholm has received grades ranging from D’s to high B’s – this year, he scored a solid “B” – or as his most complimentary assessor, Commissioner Ruth Trager, puts it:

“A pretty good job.”

What does “pretty good” performance get you in the City of Daytona Beach?

$275,000.00 annually, that’s what.

Insanity.

If we’re on the topic, let’s look at the curious case of Volusia County Manager Jim Dinneen – arguably the slimiest organism in the primordial ooze that is our local political scene.

Unlike Jim Chisholm – who, in my view, is simply incapable of addressing the festering problems of a community in crisis – Dinneen is a mean-spirited asshole with a God complex who basically serves as a bagman for uber-wealthy insiders who use our tax dollars like a private piggybank.

Now, both Chisholm and Dinneen will take full credit for throwing Chanel No. 5 on the hog that is One Daytona, Tanger Outlet and the never-ending renovation of a couple of squalid beachside motels – all projects that you and I paid for.

They will squawk-on about private/public partnerships (read: gambling with our money) with local movers-and-shakers, and frighten us with ominous hand-wringing gibberish over dubious problems when they need more of our money.

Never mind the horror show that is Dinneen’s personnel management practices, the arrogant thuggery and open suppression of legitimate pay increases for sheriff’s deputies and others on the front line providing core services to the citizens.

Oh, and just ignore the steady tax increases needed to feed his elephantine budget.

So, what does an unscrupulous fraud like Jim Dinneen command in this rickety economic environment?

Around $325,000.00 (including benefits) annually.

You read that right.

I’ll save you the cha-chi comparisons (no I won’t), like the fact Dinneen hauls in more than the Mayor of New York City, the Speaker of the House of Representatives, or the manager of Duval County – you know, a little burg north of us called ‘Jacksonville.’

Little Jimmy is also within a few thousand dollars of the Orange County administrator – who oversees the Orlando Metro area – with a permanent population of over one million people.

In fact, Mr. Dinneen is consistently ranked among the highest paid county executives in the State of Florida.

Why?

Because he shamelessly does the bidding of our benevolent dictators and ensures that their path to the public teat is unobstructed.

A cheap fixer – a conduit.

If the extent of Jim Dinneen’s mismanagement, lack of strategic vision, and contemptuous disregard of the true needs of the public he serves were ever brought to light, this little shyster would be thrown in stocks and given the Bastinado treatment on the steps of the old Volusia County Courthouse.

$325,000.00.

Obscene.

 

 

 

So long as money is how we affix value – the means to discharge debt, or to purchase goods and services – it will always be a significant influence in our lives.  Right up there with love and lust.

Unless you live like some primitive eremite, you’re affected by it.

Money controls people – and our so-called “democratic” process – to the extent that We, The People, are now powerless to overcome its pervasive influence on our once honored system of governance.

By any measure, this election season has been the most bizarre spectacle on record – and not just at the national level.  With one week to go, we are witnessing the worst-of-the-worst of what passes for politics in 2016.  And anyone who still believes in the maxim, “In the voting booth, everyone is equal” is simply a victim of the game.

For instance, I was speaking to a friend recently and noted that the District 4 Volusia County Council race between Al Smith and Heather Post has gotten too weird for even the likes of me.

I wouldn’t touch the inner-workings of that wet turd with a ten-foot pole – mostly because, while I understand the base motivations of the players, I can’t for the life of me figure out how an influential insider would risk so much on so little.

Ugly allegations and counter-accusations of drug use. Hints of personal financial mismanagement, if not outright misappropriation of funds.  Claims of money owed and nasty family disagreements.  The insinuation of dubiously obtained pre-employment polygraph results – privileged information about one’s life taken at a time when the individual is most vulnerable.

Let’s face it, it’s a new low.  Even for J. Hyatt Brown.

Look, I don’t know if this is even mathematically possible, but, in my view, both Smith and Post represent the lowest common denominator simultaneously.  If either of them represent the ‘best and brightest’ District 4 can offer – we’re in real trouble.

What I find interesting is that, perhaps for the first time, many residents of Volusia County are beginning to see the enormous influence of big money donors in relatively benign local elections.

Is it possible that we are beginning to tire of the Volusia Triumvirate of Mori Hosseini, J. Hyatt Brown and Lesa France-Kennedy, and their very real influence on our lives and livelihoods?

Many believe we are now experiencing the distillate of their long-term artificial manipulation of our local political system – and they have forced choices on us no voter should have to make.

Of course – even as the worm turns – the ruling class still feel a servile sense of loyalty to their masters.

I was recently taken to task in a social media post by former state representative – and failed congressional candidate – Fred Costello.  He took issue with a piece I wrote on Mr. Hosseini and the nexus of public funds and private interests at Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University.

According to Dr. Costello, “All three, Mori, Hyatt and Lesa, along with many others, simply care enough for the community to support candidates who share their vision.  And Mori, Hyatt and Lesa are willing to take the criticism that often comes when you exercise leadership.  Their alleged excessive collective influence is overrated.”

Clearly, the cheese has finally slipped off Fred’s cracker.

Anyone with the ability for cognitive thought understands the enormous role these power brokers play in Volusia politics.  

To believe that these billionaire insiders aren’t purchasing political influence as a return on investment is delusional – and Fred Costello damn well knows it.

In my view, it’s time we tell these perennial politicians, and their masters in the power elite, that there is some shit we won’t eat.

It is time we find a way to take big money out of Volusia County politics – and restore integrity and fairness to our democratic process – while there is still something left to care about.