Cirrus 86'd:One Down, Two to Go

Notwithstanding the ever-smiling Chris Elm’s unctuous urgings to never let an untoward word be said in protestation, I will steel myself to avoid this trap of vapidity and call ‘em like I see ‘em.

The Cirrus Corp. of somewhere in Texas has vaporized like the cloud it’s named for, but it’s prudent to keep in mind that Cirrus’ motivation was not to bail out Sonoma from its hospital crisis, or serve our community’s greater need – it was, all-to-ge-ther- now – to make lots of money, to turn big fat profits. Nothing wrong or illegal with that. It’s the Amurrican way.

But it’s good to keep in mind that when someone is offering you something for nothing there’s usually a hidden cost somewhere, and it can be steep.

Cirrus didn’t ride into town to save Sonoma and make us happy. Like any good corporation, profit is its concern, and we fitted into the schemed only insofar as it served their need. “Bidness is bidness,” said the great Molly I.

It was of no concern to Cirrus that situating a new hospital far outside Sonoma’s UGB would have effectively broken this community’s hard fought for bulwark against sprawl and overdevelopment. They’re in the business to medically serve the very wealthy in the manner to which they’ve become accustomed. Had Cirrus been successful in its gambit – providing a hospital was only a bargaining chip – it would have been a favorable outcome only for those who stood to gain something by it. Gee, I wonder what businesses those might be?

There were some locals pimping the project, trying to put a down-home, friendly face on it, but as everybody knows it’s the money that makes the monkey dance, even if the monkey’s wearing expensive threads. Bidness is bidness, y’all.

Now I’m sure the Cirrus folks would put a different spin on it, pointing out that we’d get a “free” hospital out of the deal, but just how that was supposed to work in reality never did get unveiled. The dudes from Texas folded their hand before the open cards were flopped and quit the table. Adios, amigos.

That leaves us with two viable plans to duke it out.

One of these plans entails creating a 15-acre medical complex off Broadway and Leveroni, with one small part of the land required outside but contiguous to the UGB. The large acreage is needed, say its proponents, to accommodate future growth. Just what this future population expansion means in real numbers is anybody’s guess, but given the high cost of housing around these here parts and growth control measures in place, it’s doubtful the City and the Valley will face a significant increase in numbers. What our population will increase in is more older people, proportionally, and fewer families with young kids. That’s an economic reality and it’s not likely to change. All the more reason a hospital is a must.

So one of the things we need to ask ourselves is: How much land does a new hospital really need? Another thing to look at is who stands to gain in developing a hospital complex that approximates in overall size and scope what we currently have, but on a piece of land almost four times its current acreage (approximately 4-acres)? Once again the voice of Texas’ legendary iconoclast comes drifting from the ether: “Follow the money, darlins.”

A look at the driving forces behind what’s been dubbed “Son of C,” and who its chief supporters are will tell a lot. It’ll be interesting to see which businesses and which Sonoma honchos line up behind Son of C.

There’ll be more to say on this as the big game of healthcare hold ‘em gets to the last two flops.

The Nine Norms

In a dazzling display of creating teamwork guidelines, Sonoma's city council conjured up nine norms for working and playing nice together. This was presaged by the obligatory team-building workshop, where the five stalwarts encounter grouped each other. Must have been a million laughs. Inveterate council watchers well know the raucous and rambunctious reputation these party-animal civil servants so well deserve. They may be there to do the people's business, but the Council 5 know how to get it on - workshop-wise.

"I'd rather have spikes driven through my head," one councilmember was overheard to mumble, "than be confined in one space with these twits when it isn't mandatory...."

But cloister themselves from the detritus of city affairs they did, and like the ancient Hebrews, delivered the almost Ten Commandments of being good boys and girl.

High on the list of the Sacred Nine are no name calling, no putting down of city staff, no criticizing one another or staff for any boneheaded uttering or decision, no teasing or shoving on line, and only referring to the City Manager as "blessed leader City Manager." I made up that last one. The City Manager is a self-assuming man of modest pretensions, and not without good reason.

Norm number one reads: "Thou shall not criticize thy fellow councilmember no matter if he/she is a blithering know-nothing, and makes decisions based on coin tossing."

Numero two-o says: "At all times effusively praise the city staff because it is they who do the actual work, and without them to tell you what to think, you'll have to find out what to do, and think, and that can be very time consuming.

Numero three-o, arguably the most important norm and the foundation on which rests the other eight, declares that: "Only the mayor may decide where councilmembers will sit at the council dais, And where they will sit, or stand if the mayor so wishes, at the next team-building workshop."

The other norms are boring and inconsequential, having something to do with council agendas, and meetings, and all that political stuff.

I, for one, know that Sonomans will sleep better, feel safer, and rest more assured now that the council has brought forth The Nine Norms. Yes, it's not exactly the United Nations Declaration of Human Rights, but it's good enough for our little town. God bless the City Council, and the City Manager, and all the city staff and their relatives and their pets, and so on.