ood morning, Platte County. Here comes the sun.
I’m anxious to watch the Sunshine lawsuit play out in Parkville. The case, which will be heard by Judge James Van Amburg, seems solid in terms of the law, logic and common sense. It appears clear Parkville is holding certain public records hostage. The city even denied one person access to a certain set of public records while giving the reason for doing so as some other unrelated person allegedly still owes a fee for those records. Um, wut? How does that make sense? Does a public record become a closed record because someone else allegedly at some point in time didn’t pay an alleged fee for record gathering? I don’t see that anywhere in the Sunshine Law, but perhaps it’s just me.
And as far as the allegation that the city did not turn over all communications between city officials and members of the media or communications city officials had about members of the media–what if I told you I can say with confidence that’s more than an allegation, it is a fact?
Sunshine is a great disinfectant.
In a washing machine, it’s the agitator that gets the dirt out. The same can be true in local government.
Any day now I’m expecting a bill from the City of Parkville for that three bedroom, two bath suite The Landmark has been occupying in the mayor’s head.
Landmark Live, on the road again.
Looking forward to Quinton Lucas, mayor of Kansas City, coming on Landmark Live next month for some conversation about a variety of topics, some serious and some not-so-serious.
Chris Kamler and yours truly will be chatting up the mayor in a 30 minute show on Thursday, April 9 from the mayor’s office at City Hall in KC. We’ll start that night about 5:30 or at whatever time we’re done setting up the piles of video equipment it takes to record the show. In other words, as soon as we place my iPhone on the monopod. Yes, modern technology is a wonderful thing.
Lucas has been active on Twitter–where he goes by the handle Mayor Q–even before becoming mayor last year and it is there where I’ve interacted with him a few times over the last several years.
I’m happy to announce that I’ve decided to verbally commit to watching college basketball in the month of March.
I’d like to thank the sports of XFL and MLB spring training for seeking my attention, but March Madness offered me a deal I couldn’t refuse.
A drawback to March Madness is the series of Charles Barkley/Spike Lee/Samuel Jackson commercials for some credit card company that play ad nauseam during the tournament. This has been going on for what feels like a decade now. Somebody please make it stop. Watching those commercials would be great punishment for political prisoners.
OK, maybe the commercials were cute the first few thousand times (actually they weren’t but I’m trying to be polite here) but the cuteness factor is long gone. Not cute anymore. Thankful for the mute button.
Charles Barkley in studio as an analyst between games is insightful and entertaining. Unlike the Charles Barkley in those poorly scripted commercials. Give us more of the opinionated Charles and less of the trying-to-sell-us-something Charles.
Oh, and Clark Kellogg. Clark Kellogg is the other disappointing thing about March. Has there ever been an in-studio sports announcer who never offers anything particularly insightful while making millions of dollars doing it? Well yes, there probably has been, but right now let’s focus on Clark Kellogg. Clark says nothing of substance and does it with smugness, as though he truly believes what he is offering up is the stuff of genius.
Give us something, Clark. Take a stand. Say something meaningful, Clark. Anybody can ride the fence and make feel-good observations. Step out of your comfort zone. Tell us something the normal fan can’t see.
Clark Kellogg is like a video version of a Sam Mellinger column in the Star. He’ll give you a lot of words but no clear opinion or point. He very much sounds like he’s afraid to make someone mad.
Clark Kellogg has a name that sounds like a breakfast cereal and I guess what I’m saying is he’s as bland as Raisin Bran. Without milk.
Please stop with the word salad and give us some meaty commentary. All the dry air is making my ears bleed.
Back to Sam Mellinger of the Star. Comes across as a great guy, and I’m sure that’s real. But is there a column writer anywhere who uses more words while saying less? Typically, people read opinion columns because they want, you know, to hear an opinion. Sam’s bosses apparently haven’t been able to get that point across to him. Super nice guy but with columns that straddle the fence, which makes his work about as impactful as the slice of bread restaurants give you with your slab of ribs.
(Ivan Foley can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org or trying to figure out the purpose for that slice of bread in his slab of ribs)