Democracy in Action

Last night, after a forty year absence from a public podium as a concerned citizen I spoke at a public hearing in favor of land conservation.

It was a simple task. All I had to do was research, write and deliver a speech that takes less than five minutes describing farm conservation in neighboring towns and rebutting several of the spurious arguments put forth by the opposition. Oh, and then practice in front of the stove timer, do a couple of rewrites and provide the speech to committee members for review. A snap.

Then I had to go to the meeting, listen to the opposition build their arguments and go up and play beat the clock in front of a microphone and television cameras. Not such a snap.

Prior to my appearance I got to listen to five award winning students read their essays nominating five deserving senior citizens for senior citizen of the year. Four out of five of the nominees were named Grandma and one was named Grandpa. Each nominee stood by their respective seventh grader as they read their prepared text in either a sudden awareness that English as a spoken language is an art not yet achieved or in a style that was so miserly about their oxygen resources that they did not want to waste the time breathing during their mad dash to salute the elderly. Yet, they were all deserving so the contest was declared a tie allowing each of the grandparents to go home with a certificate and, presumably, a grandchild.

The salute to the elderly having been completed several local curmudgeons who did not win senior citizen of the year awards spoke on a variety of vexing topics. We heard the gamut of complaints from need for stop signs to municipal conspiracy theories. This left me plenty of time to wonder whose speaking style I would emulate – would I perform a mad dash to the finish or tie my tongue in the midst of a polysyllabic wresting match.

Most of the anti conservation folks spoke early and had a couple of comments stating that it was too expensive or there was too much state meddling (a conservation easement is being held by the state). One gentleman stated that if we did not develop the land there would be not enough houses for all of the children of the referendum supporters. I liked his argument and chose not to point out that many of the current houses will be vacated by the previous speakers or award winners by the time the average child grows up. Also, my sun fully plans to take over our home once it is unencumbered by a mortgage if not by our residence.

The supporters spoke of bucolic glory, American pie, white pinafores made dirty on grandpa’s farm, children frolicking and all sorts of really good, inspiring things. I thought that I should sing Woody Guthrie’s “This Land Is Your Land” but feared that someone might recognize it for the antiauthority, somewhat socialist paean that it is. Then again, the song might inspire some of our more ardent supporters to storm and occupy the farm.

When it was my turn, with heart beating fast and at an unfortunately rapid pace, I began. Cruising through my statements on farm saving efforts in neighboring towns I realized my style would soon lose my audience so I took a deep breath and slowed.

Maybe that was a good thing as the speech had been developed in two parts. The first part had been asked for by the committee based on my knowledge of conservation efforts in Newington. I threw in information about West Hartford’s Flag road property and the programs there. I may have gone a little overboard when I talked of mothers bringing their babies to see the moo cows or some such drivel. The second part was a bit of a surprise by those who had seen it previously and more so to those in the chamber.

I began the second part by stating that the opponents of the referendum had led a campaign full of half truths, misstatements and scare tactics and proceeded to systematically refute their points one by one. Their style is to throw out a barrage of numbers to confuse and appear authoritative. My tactics were to dissect their numbers and communications with some humor and provide more accurate information working in source citations. I used Ronald Reagan’s speaking style as inspiration balanced with a bit of Al Gore in honor of our non-partisan effort (friendly, depreciating, but accurate and detailed).

I finished to a round of applause (the first that night) and smiles from the mayor and deputy mayor. Who knew that the database guy was also a policy wonk?

Tonight’s speaker for the Chamber of Commerce debate asked me for a copy of my speech and told me that I should be the debater. Imagine me, arguing a point in public; me without any firm convictions or opinions.

After the meeting a gentleman came up and told me that my speech changed his vote. I asked him which way.

Tonight I am a shill in the audience – prepared to ask difficult questions of the referendum opponents (which I suspect they won’t answer directly) and leading questions of the supporters (which I hope they can answer).

Oh, that public speaking forty years ago? Larry Merritt and I spoke against building a highway through the local reservoir. Due to our efforts, and maybe a couple of other’s, the proposal was defeated. That highway would have gone through Newington to connect near the Aetna office in Middletown – my commuting route for almost twenty years. At ten minutes a trip the shorter route would have saved me approximately 88,000 hours which I would not have known if I wasn’t such a wonk.