Welp, as soon as he was confronted, Sen. Russ Ingalls folded like a lawn chair. Ingalls was taken to task by Senate President Pro Tem Becca Balint for doxxing a middle school teacher… and he immediately turtled.
According to Balint, Ingalls expressed “regret and remorse” and said he would reach out directly to the teacher to make amends “for his poor judgement.”
What a warrior.
I mean, it’s the right thing to do, but he’s abandoning any pretense of principle.
He’s also ducking the media, just like a coward. “Ingalls did not respond to multiple phone calls and messages seeking comment Tuesday,” per VTDigger.
I’m sure he’ll go on being an asshole on social media and in front of friendly audiences, but when forced to confront his own actions, he can’t take the heat.
This week, we’ve already “honored” Gov. Phil Scott with one of our not-at-all-coveted Veepie Awards (given to those guilty of stupidity and/or obtuseness in the public sphere). But our Selection Committee hasn’t been sitting on its hands. No, it’s been out there scouring the highways and byways — ahh, who am I kidding? Potential Veepies are abundant. They practically come a-knockin’ on our door.
So, our first regularly scheduled Veepie is the What? A politician is fundraising? Oh, my heart! Award. It goes, not to an individual or group, but to a concept. This week, VTDigger published one of those “Oh well, we gotta do this” stories about the July 1 campaign finance reports. The only nugget of news was Lt. Gov. Molly Gray raising $50,000 so far this year. And there was a distinct undercurrent of disapproval.
This is partly because Gray stood out among her fellow statewide officeholders. But it also feeds into the widely-held view of Gray as a political opportunist who hasn’t paid her dues. Well, folks, I have to tell you I have no problem with Gray raising money in an off year. Those other officeholders are established in their positions. Gov. Phil Scott does as little fundraising as he can. The Democratic statewides are politically bulletproof.
Gray isn’t firmly established, and she had a surplus of only $20,000 from her 2020 campaign. She can use a bigger war chest. And sure, it feeds into the perception that Gray is a climber with her eyes set on higher office. I see nothing wrong with that, either. A politician being ambitious? Get the smelling salts!
After the jump: An extremely belated make-good, an outbreak of NIMBYism, and a media misstep.
A little good environmental news, courtesy of the Valley News by way of VTDigger: The long, expensive, difficult cleanup of the Elizabeth Mine Superfund site may be finished by the end of this year.
Huzzahs all around. Great news for our environment and for the town of Strafford, which has borne the brunt of the cleanup effort.
But the story also mentions two other Superfund sites in eastern Vermont: the Pike Hill Copper Mine in Corinth and the Ely Copper Mine in Vershire. Which made me wonder, how many Superfund sites does Vermont have, anyway?
The answer, according to the EPA’s website, is 14. (Not counting the Saint-Gobain site that’s wreaked havoc with Bennington-area water supplies. The actual site is in New York.)
Next question: How does our total compare with other states?
The answer: in absolute numbers, pretty good. On a per capita basis, not so much.
I ran the numbers for other New England states and threw in my home state of Michigan, a former industrial powerhouse that might be expected to have a lot of Superfund sites. Sad to say, Vermont’s the worst of the lot.
(Headline is a paraphrase of Charles Bukowski, everybody’s favorite wholesome all-American writer)
Got a full slate once again, including how the feds’ ignorance of Vermont’s governmental structure is screwing up Covid relief, a couple of lazy media tropes on display, an ex-cop dumping on his hometown, and… wait for it… the first-ever Own Veepie. Let’s get to work, or whatever this is.
Let’s start at the U.S. Treasury, which earns the We’re Not Bending Our Rules for You; You’ll Have to Do the Bending Award thanks to its ignorance of Vermont’s structure of governance. Unfortunately, this has thrown a great deal of uncertainty into federal Covid relief for cities and towns. The federal aid is meant for state, county and municipal governments, which is fine in a state with robust county governments. In Vermont, the counties do very little and have minimal budgets.
Even so, the feds have insisted that our share of the loot be distributed on their standard formula. This means that cities and towns will get substantially less than previously thought — like, roughly two-thirds less. This was first reported late last week by the Times Argus, based on communications to the Barre and Montpelier city councils. Several days later, VTDigger posted a much more complete accounting. The Legislature will decide how to redirect the “county Covid funds,” and could do so however they wish. That’s a worrying prospect, but Digger says that state leaders agree that the money should go to cities and towns. That’s good, but why do we need to clean up the Treasury’s mistake?
One more thing: According to Digger, the Treasury granted exceptions for other states with weak county governments (Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusetts) but not Vermont. Why not? Are we too small to warrant the Treasury’s attention?
Still to come: Inadequate reporting times two, a temper tantrum from a former top cop, and the Veepies come back to bite me.
The House and Senate have been discussing how and when to return to normal operations in the Statehouse. Media coverage has focused on ensuring that reporters have access to any meetings under the Golden Dome. And that’s important.
But there’s one thing that’s more important to far more people, and I haven’t heard beans about it lately.
After their return to the Statehouse, the Legislature should continue livestreaming all hearings and floor sessions, and archiving them all on YouTube.
This would be a bit of a logistical challenge; the committee rooms are cramped, and it’s tough to get a good angle that encompasses all parties. Decent audio quality is also an issue. But here’s the thing: There’s talk of setting up auxiliary rooms in the Statehouse where people could watch a hearing without being in the committee room. That would ease the habitual (and unhealthy) overcrowding at hearings, and provide access to those who feel a little iffy about breathing the same air as a couple dozen others in the teeth of cold and flu season.
Well, if they’re going to send video to auxiliary rooms, there is no reason on Earth why they can’t put the same feed on YouTube. No excuses.
Christine Hallquist made a strong but unintentional cargument for universal broadband on Thursday. The former utility executive and gubernatorial candidate is now working to bring broadband to northern Vermont, as administrator for NEK Community Broadband and for Lamoille FiberNet.
Hallquist was a witness at a Thursday hearing on broadband, appearing, as is everyone, via Zoom. And her testimony was delayed by several minutes because of trouble with her Starlink internet connection.
Once she finally managed to be heard, Hallquist made a strong case for achieving universal broadband through the “communication union districts” around the state, including her own.
(She also wins the imaginary “See, I Told You So” award. Several years ago, she was talking up the electric utility infrastructure as the best, easiest and cheapest delivery system for broadband. Lo and behold, that’s the backbone for getting high-speed internet to every corner of the state.)
Broadband is no longer an unrealized dream but a near-future reality, thanks to the Covid pandemic. With many Vermonters working and schooling their children from home, broadband suddenly became a necessity. And the federal government’s Covid relief packages have injected billions into the nationwide broadband project, with hundreds of millions flowing into Vermont’s effort.
But the devil is in the details, and those details are being worked out right now in the Legislature. Anyone interested in broadband should be paying close attention, and giving their lawmakers an earful.
Hey, folks, remember this guy? Brian Judd, candidate for Barre City Council, Trump supporter and rabid conspiratorialist?
Well, he got his ass whupped on Town Meeting Day by incumbent councilor Teddy Waszasak, 54% to 46%.
But he ain’t taking it lying down. No, he’s gone and filed suit against the City of Barre alleging some kind of election irregularity and, I presume, asking for the result to be overturned.
And you’ll never guess: He’s representing himself! Classic.
There’s little detail in the court record. He filed the suit on March 17. The defendant (city of Barre) has yet to be served. Nothing’s been scheduled. Here’s the record that’s accessible by the general public.
Paul Heintz’ move from Seven Days to VTDigger was somewhere north of surprising and a little south of shocking. Heintz had been at 7D for quite a while. He was one of 13 staffers granted a 1% ownership share last January, presumably a reward for loyalty and an incentive to stay put. And although he’d stepped down from an editorial position last year, he retained a measure of influence beyond his station.
Now, he’s definitely getting a promotion. At Digger, Heintz will be managing editor overseeing a staff of roughly 20. (As 7D’s political editor, he supervised only three.) Nonetheless, it’s a move from an organization he knows backwards and forwards to an unfamiliar place that’s going through a difficult transition.
I can’t speak to his motivation. I worked for the guy for two years and we never really got along, so I don’t know him very well. But here’s what it means from my perspective, which is informed by experience working in both shops. And biased by that experience as well. Take it all with a grain of salt.
Moving from reporter to editor is a customary career path in journalism. Most people get out of the trenches sooner or later, and either move to management or out of the profession. (Montpelier is up to its neck in former journalists turned communications staff, a much more lucrative profession.) He may have hit a glass ceiling at 7D, having once been an editor and then returned to the rank and file.
But he’s stepping into an uncomfortable situation. Digger founder and chief bottle-washer Anne Galloway is a frequent meddler, diving into any story or situation whenever she sees fit. This was appropriate when Digger was a tough little startup with a handful of staff but not now, when it’s a large and established organization that requires a leader focused entirely on the big picture.
Heintz’ predecessor, Colin Meyn, was the buffer between the top and the trenches. It was a real challenge, and he handled it well. He was viewed with affection and respect by the reporting staff. But I have to think it took a toll on him. It’s never a good sign when someone quits a steady job during a pandemic without a pre-arranged professional landing spot.
The Barre City Council deliberated for months on a proposal to fly the “Black Lives Matter” flag in City Hall Park, a measure first proposed last spring. They finally resolved the matter in a way that only an all-white group of desperate politicians could devise. They decided the BLM flag would fly through the end of December, and that for January it would be replaced by the “Thin Blue Line” banner, a bastardized version of the American flag that’s favored by the pro-police crowd.
Talk about both-sidesing an issue.
The only thing stupider than the final resolution was its original version, which would have seen 22 different flags displayed for one month apiece. That roster included the flags of England, Italy and France, as well as the Star of David, an Autism Acceptance banner and the flag of the Green Mountain Boys.
Talk about 22-sidesing an issue.
That idea was floated by Councilor John Steinman, a very conservative dentist who once ran unsuccessfully for the House. I couldn’t hazard a guess as to why he chose England, Italy and France (white people white people WHITE PEOPLE WHITE PEOPLE!!!!), or why he cast his net so widely, but somehow that proposal was actually adopted by Council at its November 17 meeting — only to be replaced by the two-flag plan the following week, presumably after an outpouring of laughter and derision.
I shouldn’t have to explain why it’s such an affront to tie those two flags together, but let’s give it a shot, shall we?
I have to admit I felt a little twinge of the warm fuzzies when I heard about Gov. Phil Scott’s “Vermont LIghts the Way” initiative. I mean, who could resist this pitch:
“I think it’s time to lift our spirits. Let’s get creative and show the world that Vermonters are here for each other and that even through these dark and difficult times, Vermont Lights the Way. …I hope this effort will spread joy and hope, especially for our kids.”
But of course, I’m a cynical old blogger, so my thoughts quickly turned. “What does this have to do with governance?” I asked myself.
Nothing. It’s good politics, that’s all. And there’s nothing wrong with good politics in its place. But this message is aimed at the comfortable among us — the ones with homes and well-stocked pantries, a bit of disposable income and paid-up utility bills, the ones who’d like to feel as though they’re making a difference without leaving the comfort of home and hearth.