Commentary on Bay Area issues
At the risk of piling on a tragedy, just one question regarding the terrible hunting accident that resulted in a Tampa man accidentally shooting and killing his 9-year-old son last month. Why wasn’t that child in school?
An excursion to see Harry Potter on school time is enough of a reach, but a parent taking a kid out of school for several days to observe deer hunting? That’s where the negligence began. Tragically, it didn’t end there.
For a non-politician running for governor, Tampa’s Bill McBride is getting the hang of it.
He’s barnstorming, fund-raising and speaking out like the major, credible candidate he’s morphing into. He’s also taking the high road vis-a-vis his primary opponents, especially Janet Reno, the high-profile, front-running former U.S. attorney general, who happens to be a good friend. He saves his salvos for the governor. But he’s also careful to attack Jeb Bush, the ideologue, not the person.
The husky, well-connected, 56-year-old McBride is acting very much like the Democratic Party’s best chance in a general election against a powerful, incumbent governor whose brother is president of a United States at war. He will have to win, however, a primary with no run-off against seasoned politicians — most notably Reno.
Ideologically, the former managing partner for the mega-sized Holland & Knight law firm will not be outflanked on the left. He could balance — or maybe offset — a liberal agenda with serious business bona fides, a Bronze-Starred Vietnam Marine record and tons of civic service. Proximity to the critical I-4 corridor and potential appeal to a chunk of the military vote in North Florida underscore his geo-political possibilities.
This is the hybrid candidacy he brings. While his core beliefs in an activist government and inclusion — he’s a self-described “proud and unapologetic Democrat ” — certainly haven’t changed, the packaging has been refined.
As was evident recently at Tampa’s Tiger Bay Club luncheon, McBride seems more at ease in front of a political crowd. He’ll never be (state Senator) Daryl Jones, but he’s a better Bill McBride.
The light, sometimes self-deprecating, side was there. As was the down-home, Leesburg delivery that tells folks that Reno and her no-frills style won’t win the populist vote by default. Homage to his wife, ex-banker Alex Sink, wasn’t missed. A “9-11” reference took the patriotically pragmatic form of: “If they could find a uniform big enough, I’d go and get bin Laden myself. I’m trained for it.” Jesse Ventura could have uttered that one.
He set up his boilerplate special by citing recent studies by the St. Petersburg Times and one from the Florida Chamber of Commerce Foundation that showed Florida losing ground in education and income. He said Florida’s report card would warrant a “D or an F” and that Jeb Bush should be given “a voucher to go back to the private sector.” This is applause-line, mantra material that McBride is increasingly at ease with. It went over well.
Some other McBride offerings, a number of which will become campaign-trail staples:
Only for politicians and death-row inmates would a year and a half from now seem soon. We are almost that far removed from Tampa’s 2003 mayoral election, and already there are at least eight declared or well-publicized, potential candidates to replace Dick Greco. Not including Ed Turanchik.
It does, however, include maybe the most intriguing putative candidate: Francisco Sanchez.
He doesn’t, however, have the name recognition of other would-be mayors. He doesn’t have a long, continuous residence — and political presence — in the city. And he doesn’t have the experience of having previously held — or even run for — public office.
“To move from not being a public-office holder to mayor is a pretty dramatic move,” points out John Belohlavek, political consultant and USF history professor. “But his roots are deep, and he’s worked in politics enough. Frank understands how the game is played, and what it takes to be an effective leader.”
What the 42-year-old Ybor City native has besides roots are a resume, looks, a quiet charisma and a coterie of cronies and associates who think he would be the perfect successor to Greco. It’s heavily speculated that Greco would agree.
“I’m very serious about running for mayor,” says Sanchez, who expects to make a formal announcement early in ’02. “I look at the candidates, and they’re all good and honorable people. But I have a desire to be of service and a unique set of experiences and skills.”
Indeed.
Start with his education. Your basic George Washington Junior High-Hillsborough High- Harvard University connection. At Harvard, he earned a master’s degree in public administration. Previously, he had received undergraduate and law degrees from Florida State University. He’s fluent in Spanish and Portuguese.
He was hooked on politics as a college freshman and worked on Bob Graham’s first gubernatorial campaign — back when Graham’s name-recognition numbers were negligible. He became an assistant to Gov. Graham and later the first director of the state’s Caribbean Basin Initiative program.
He has been assistant secretary for aviation and international affairs for the U.S. Department of Transportation and a special assistant to the president of the United States, Office of the Special Envoy for the Americas. He has practiced corporate securities and administrative law in Miami.
Currently, Sanchez is the Tampa-based managing director of Cambridge Negotiation Strategies, where his work for corporations and governments ranges from labor-management negotiations to alliance management. He frequently pivots out of Tampa for trouble-shooting sorties in Latin America.
His domestic political message is steeped in economics.
The “centerpiece” of a Sanchez campaign, he says, would be the “maintaining and improving of the quality of life” of Tampa. “That means maintaining a solid economic base. To Greco’s credit, he did that. You can’t pay for public safety, public housing and the cultural arts without it.”
To that end, Sanchez has a five-bullet short list:
Promote international trade and investment.
Find Tampa’s high-tech niche, using USF as an anchor.
Continue the development of downtown, a “diamond in the rough.”
Build stronger relationships with Hillsborough County
Be a collaborative regional player, especially with Pinellas County.
“We should see ourselves as a city that can attract regional, national or Latin American headquarters,” says Sanchez. “Let’s not denigrate ourselves because we didn’t get an Olympics. This is a pretty good city. The infrastructure is here, yet there’s a small town feel. We’re unique. We have to capitalize on that.”
And as to his electability?
“Frank had lots of options,” says USF History Professor Paul Dosal, a long-time friend, “yet he chose to come back home. People remember and respect him. He transcends party lines. I’ve been apolitical for years, but this is the one candidate I would work for.”
Sanchez seems sanguine enough.
“I can be very competitive in terms of raising money,” he states. “As for name recognition, remember who it was that I cut my political teeth with. People said Bob Graham didn’t have a prayer.”
So, is Mayor Greco praying for Sanchez?
“I just hope there’s a lot of interest in the race,” demurs Greco. “It’s important for the voters to have a real choice.”
But Greco does offer this: “Frank Sanchez is a very impressive young man. I think he’s serious about wanting to do something here. He understands the system; knows the city; is articulate in three languages; a Harvard grad. Yes, he can be formidable.”
A recent column sparked a spate of (ok, seven) emails responding positively to the comment by psychologist Alan Lewis that the attack on America presents, among other things, a “critical learning experience” for our children. “Maybe we need to remind our kids of what America is and what’s worth protecting,” opined Lewis.
His words certainly struck a chord with me. The only thing worse than the atrocity of September 11 would be a failure to respond properly. We are already doing it militarily and diplomatically. The propaganda front is more problematic.But the opportunity to imbue a sense of what it means to be an American in our children mustn’t be missed. And it has nothing to do with jingoism; nor is it the stuff of raw consumerism.
Being an American kid must mean more than parroting patriotic phrases and having a lot of stuff. It must mean more than a birthright entitlement program for the latest and greatest from the worlds of fashion and entertainment. If we as a country fight for individual opportunity and freedom, we win because our cause is just. If we fight for bigger and better stuff, our cause is less noble and our victory less assured.
Being an American kid must mean an understanding that having stuff is a byproduct of a free enterprise system that is highly productive. It’s where opportunity abounds, but success is not guaranteed. Somebody worked hard for that stuff, and America is a country that rewards such efforts. Often handsomely.
Others have bequeathed that to America’s kids through their work ethic. The Latest Generation is fortunate enough to have been born into such a system, but soon it will be their turn to link into that legacy and measure up. Right now it means doing their part to properly equip themselves by taking advantage of their educational opportunities.
Being an American kid must also mean an appreciation of what freedom actually means. It’s not an abstraction; it’s not a buzzword.
Generation Next lives in a democracy. Before too long, these kids will be old enough to vote in their government leaders — because they can. And they must. It’s not a perfect system, just the best one yet. They also live in a land where the rule of law prevails, and a Constitution and a Bill of Rights protect us all. Innocent until proven guilty is legal bedrock. The press is not a government mouthpiece, and the practice of religion is personal and protected. God blesses America, but God is not an American. He also helps those who help themselves.
America’s kids must never forget that where there are rights, there are responsibilities. The other guy has rights too. And as a melting-pot nation, we are tolerant — but not stupid.
Put it this way.
Wave the flag. Please. And wave it on high and proudly — and not just during a crisis, a World Series or an Olympics. But remember that freedom had to be won; that’s how this country started. And once won, continuously affirmed and defended.
In a world where envy and enmity are our enemies, the status quo is no ally of freedom. Affirming and defending will be your responsibility too, because you benefit most from living here.
Now go out and play.
Across Florida, as we have seen recently, more people are buying handguns and requesting applications to secretly carry them. Apparently it has nothing to do with crime stats, most of which are down. It has everything to do with an overreaction to terrorism.
The imminent enemy right now is fear. It is the calculated game plan of bioterrorism. No Islamic fanatics are coming to our houses. It’s hardly the modus operandi of despicable, theocratic cowards. But jittery folks with guns are downright scary.
So what does the chairman of Florida’s Senate Select Committee on Public Security and Crisis Management do? If you’re Sen. Ginny Brown-Waite of Brooksville, you start packing heat, as in a Colt .38 caliber handgun. Never know when you might have to shoot a spore.
Thanks for the leadership.
While America strikes back at terrorism and rallies around the notion of normalcy, there remains among many of us a disquieting sense of foreboding. What will the other shoe look like? Where will it drop? The scenarios are as varied as they are virulent.
Amid all the anxious conjecture, however, is a constant. Our lives will never be the same again. And that includes dealing with the knave new world of terrorism with our children. Their lives, of course, will never be the same again either.
Tampa psychologist Alan Lewis offers some observations and advice, some of which may surprise you. Lewis, a native New Yorker whose counseling experience ranges from anxiety-ridden, post-robbery bank tellers to traumatized paramedics and firefighters, suggests a combination of common sense and “critical learning experience” in helping our kids.
“The most important thing for parents to do is reassure their children that they’re safe,” advises Lewis. “For kids, their own safety is paramount. Reassure them that the people around them will keep them safe. Reassure them that what they’re going through is normal.”
He urges “circumspection” in front of children, which is what “parents should do anyway,” he adds. Ditto for monitoring the violence — whether in videos or in horrifically real newscasts — they are exposed to.
But Lewis also reminds parents that there is “nothing wrong with the opportunity to display emotions.
“Kids take their cues from their parents, whether they’re 9 or 19,” he points out. “It’s not inappropriate for kids to realize that this is important, and there is a sense of anger. Don’t try to be overprotective. Kids invariably understand more than we think. Just keep it on their level. And remember that grief is normal.
“You know, and this will sound funny coming from a psychologist, but ‘grief counseling’ almost implies that it’s abnormal and therefore requires a counselor,” notes Lewis. “What we have been going through — since the unthinkable occurred — is a normal process.”
Lewis also advocates using the terrorist attacks on America as a “launching pad” to talk about things we normally don’t discuss with our kids. For example: “This country needs to be defended.”
He draws a geopolitical parallel, which lends itself to a critical learning experience.
“Muslim kids, as we’ve seen, are indoctrinated at an early age,” says Lewis. “Maybe we need to remind our kids of what America is and what’s worth protecting.”
Could it be that the Florida A&M-Bethune Cookman Florida Classic, formerly held in Tampa, has been replaced by the Punch Bowl?
Some would say so, including at least one “progressive” religious leader, who sees a continuum of racial slights and insults. Same racist game, but different visiting teams.
By now, we’re all too familiar with the recent incident, the anatomy of a rumor and the birth of an indignation, over at downtown Tampa’s Marriott Waterside Hotel.
A member of the predominately black Progressive National Baptist Convention saw a melanin-challenged Marriott staffer spit into a fruit punch bowl. Or maybe he took a sip. Or retrieved a ladle. Or dropped in a Baby Ruth bar for comic relief. Moreover, he then tainted a 1,000-person, sit-down meal of grilled salmon and filet mignon. Or not.
Whatever, by the time the general manager, who was not on site, could be summoned, the Rev. C. Mackey Daniels, head of the PNB convention, had issued marching orders. The group then walked out on the pricey repast. They marched to the nearest, next-biggest hotel, which mercifully wasn’t an Adam’s Mark. Presumably, they didn’t call ahead requesting a table with a viewpoint for 1,000. The downtown Hyatt Regency should be commended for scrambling to put out the mother of all chicken wing spreads.
The person, later identified as the Rev. Frederick Jones, who saw whatever it was that was to be seen at the Marriott is not talking. Except to PNB lawyers. Certainly not to anyone in Tampa, including the Marriott, the mayor, the media and the police. In fact, Jones checked out of his hotel early and left town.
The person, later identified as Istvan Kovacs, who was seen doing whatever it was that was done, says he merely retrieved a ladle, taking pains to avoid dipping any digits into the punch.
The truth is out there somewhere, but the staffer’s credibility is understandably — and likely irretrievably — undermined. Not only is he white, but he unfortunately hails from that hotbed of racial intolerance — Hungary.
Bigot-guilty until proven otherwise.
Only reinforcing the Napoleonic code was Paul Catoe, the untenably positioned president of the Tampa Bay Convention and Visitor’s Bureau. “Until someone comes forward to prove to us something didn’t happen, we’ll assume it did,” Catoe told the St. Petersburg Times.
It’s come to this. City officials, including Mayor Dick Greco, apologizing for whatever, if anything, happened. And it’s incumbent upon the city to prove a negative. It’s not incumbent upon the PNB convention, however, to even help clarify the matter, except to its legal counsel.
Since the case for black victimization is so easy to make in politically correct America, including, some would contend, in racially retro Tampa, then it must be true. Whatever “it” is.
As a city, Tampa is racially profiled. Call it hosting while white. It’s based on incidents past, some legitimate and some not. It now feeds on itself.
For example, notice how the first Marriott media accounts also referenced the complaints of black Florida Classic visitors in 1994 who were angry that Tampa Bay Center, across from what was then Houlihan’s Stadium, closed early on game day.
The ensuing racial flap, which made the rounds again last year during the FAMU Law School site-selection charade, led to the game being moved to Orlando. What’s never mentioned in the media mantra is that TBC merchants welcomed the middle-class, middle-aged fans in town for reunions and shopping — but not the problematic onslaught of unaffiliated teenagers who historically flock to major “black events.”
Interesting that when the Rev. Daniels convened an ad hoc board meeting a couple of days after the Marriott incident, he presented a list of 20 racially charged incidents in Tampa’s past.
And it was current enough to include the racial discrimination lawsuit involving black women basketball players at the University of South Florida. He had no details about the damning allegations the PNB convention had made, but he had his show-and-tell Top 20.
His moral high ground was a sinkhole, but it didn’t matter. This is no more about M.L. King and Rosa Parks than Sean King and Bert Parks.
What seemed paramount to Rev. Daniels was leverage not enlightenment. For all of its civil rights lingo and the rhetoric of outrage and humiliation, The PNB Convention is after a financial settlement. Somebody will get stiffed because rumor-mongering must be a sacred calling.
The PNB Convention is playing the extortion game because it can. Tampa will be held hostage to further soiling of its reputation as a convention city unfriendly to blacks, whatever the merits of the Great Expectoration incident.
But give the Rev. Daniels credit for something. He is pursuing restitution, if not the truth, religiously.
Now it’s officially official. Bob Buckhorn is officially running for mayor.
As you may have noticed, presses didn’t stop, eyebrows didn’t arch and Pam Iorio didn’t issue a concession statement. The official announcement had all the drama of a call-center ribbon cutting. The Florida Aquarium’s name changing of “jewfish” to “goliath grouper” was a bigger story.
But while at least one prominent pundit — ok, Dan Ruth — has already noted that Buckhorn’s chances are “no worse or better than anybody else’s,” that’s likely not the case.
Buckhorn’s chances are better than most, especially those named Miranda, Ferlita, Hart and Alvarez — Dennis or Wilson. Name recognition and fund-raising are, as always, critical. Buckhorn’s been working on the former forever. The latter works in tandem.
Where he has a leg up is where most of us live — in neighborhoods. Populism remains ever popular, and Buckhorn expertly played the neighborhood-crusader card during the high profile, high stakes, Community Investment Tax pitched battle.
Remember, in that 6-1 City Council vote to use CIT money for a cultural arts district downtown, he was the 1. The only one, we will be reminded incessantly from a well-worn script, who didn’t “cave in” to Dick Greco’s “monument-building” agenda.
Buckhorn’s other leg is firmly planted atop a certain six-foot ordinance. Libertarians, Joe Redner, Luke Lirot and anyone who frames the issue as “government legislating morality” have taken serious umbrage at Tampa’s lap-dance law.
Of course, no one wants a Taliban Tampa or a Gestapoized First Amendment. But a lot of people, certainly not just Buckhorn, see the matter as a “quality of life” issue. The location and nature of adult businesses, they would argue, is an appropriate community question to raise — and not quietly either. Not unlike, say, what passes for entertainment over at WXTB, 97.9 FM.
And as to those who see the adult-business issue as purely a moral crusade, well, Buckhorn will gladly accept those votes as well, thank you.
The holdout CIT vote and the aggressive, publicity-generating lap-dance campaign are certainly not everyone’s agenda, but it is a constituency.
For too long Ybor had gone, well, Ybor-less when it came to statuary honoring historic figures. There’s Queen Isabella, Jose Marti, Nick Nuccio, Tony Pizzo, Cesar Gonzmart and anonymous immigrants. And some day there will be Sam Leto and Dick Greco and maybe Ferdie Pacheco and Roland Manteiga.
But now, finally, by the entrance to Centro Ybor, there’s a six-foot bronze replica of Vicente Martinez-Ybor, without whom there would be no Ybor City. Muchas gracias (great-grandson) Rafael Martinez-Ybor, the Ybor City Rotary Club and sculptor Steve Dickey.
But then there’s the proposed 170,000-sq-ft., modern entertainment center on Seventh Avenue and 15th Street. With its blue, conical, smokestack-like skylight, portholes and reliance on the color gray, it is as incongruous to the surrounding architecture and history as the Martinez-Ybor statue and Centro Ybor are complementary.
No one is telling land-owner/developer Penet Land Corp. to rebuild the Blue Ribbon Supermarket that previously stood on the site or to replicate its yellow-brick look. No one is even telling Penet it can’t exceed the national historic district’s height allowance — by 14 feet.
But what the Barrio Latino Commission is saying is that the Penet project, while no Hillsborough Community College abomination, is an inappropriate fit in an historic district.
The Barrio, while compromising on the height restriction, is doing the right thing by issuing a small-craft warning to the ship-shaped building. Now it’s up to architect Kenneth Kroger to transcend his ego and remember why it is that we have designated historic districts in the first place.
Meet Bill McBride, a man who would be governor. The personable, high-achieving, 56-year-old attorney who has never held public office is one of a half dozen Democrats vying to be the party’s choice to take on Jeb Bush in 2002.
The serious winnowing process is yet ahead.
In some parts of Florida, he may be the least known of the seven. Even here in the Tampa Bay area, his home base, he’s forced to share the early media spotlight — and fund-raising and endorsements — with another aspirant, Congressman Jim Davis.
In front of a hard-core political crowd, he can still seem charisma challenged. Moreover, conventional wisdom accords former U.S. Attorney General Janet Reno the overall favorite’s role in a winner-take-all primary with no run-off.
Having said that — as well as acknowledging that conventional wisdom is always more conventional than wise — no one in the know is dismissing his chances.
“Bill McBride is smart, likeable, a good listener and just bulldog tenacious in what he wants to accomplish. I think he’ll be very competitive,” assessed former Tampa Mayor Sandy Freedman, who has endorsed McBride’s candidacy. “He’ll be able to raise money; he’s got a fantastic network. And he’s a fresh face, which is good for the party. Everything he’s done in life has prepared him well for this, and he has a marvelous story to tell.”
McBride’s is an intriguing, hybrid candidacy.
A populist, a patriot, a profit-and-loss guy who believes in an activist role for government. And still a Little League coach.He grew up in Leesburg, Fla., the son of a TV repairman. As a kid, he picked oranges and sold watermelons door-to-door. Went to Leesburg High, where he was student body president and runner-up Florida Scholar-Athlete of the Year as an honor student/fullback-linebacker. Was recruited to the University of Florida in the same class as Steve Spurrier. Blew out a knee and became the “Best player who never played for me,” according to head coach Ray Graves.
After college, he rejected additional student deferments, joined the Marines, served in Vietnam and earned a Bronze Star. His reasoning was simple, but its impact profound.
“It was only by accident of birth that I was born in this country,” reasoned McBride, “and not in, say, Bangladesh. That makes me pretty lucky. I felt it was my obligation to serve. I’m glad I did.”
And as the only college graduate in his Marine company, McBride eventually saw the war through the prism of a socio-economically-skewed America. “Lower middle class to poor kids were being asked to die for their country, but had the least stake in what was going on,” figured McBride. “An experience like that shows the awesome power of government. Making decisions that change people’s lives.”
Captain McBride then looked to become Counselor McBride. He returned to Gainesville, entered UF School of Law and graduated with honors and as a member of the Law Review.
Over time, he would become a name familiar to many in legal, political and civic circles, from Tampa to Tallahassee and beyond. His chairmanships range from the Florida Chamber of Commerce Foundation to the Greater Tampa Chamber of Commerce and the United Way of Hillsborough County. He’s a member of the Tampa Bay Business Hall of Fame. He has several dens’ worth of testimonial plaques, including awards from the National Council of Christians and Jews and the Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Commemoration Committee.
In an election that could likely turn on education, the environment, ever mounting black alienation and Bush Brothers’ payback, McBride could be well positioned.
It’s also a given that his legal and business connections should enable him to raise money nationwide. In fact, Alex Sink, his wife and former state head of NationsBank, is a fund-raising force in her own right.
With bona fides in business, the military and football, McBride’s quite comfortable in a corporate suite, a military base or the University of Florida’s Ben Hill Griffin Stadium. But when it comes to core ideology, no one in the field outflanks him on the left. That, of course, could be a ruinous niche nationally, but not statewide.
He’s unabashedly supportive of public schools and teachers and activist on behalf of the environment and minority inclusion. He sees the value in unions and the good in affirmative action. He believes gays and lesbians should enjoy the same legal rights and benefits as married couples. He is, as he has said, a “proud and unapologetic Democrat.”
“Almost all of my positions are from the premise that people need a helping hand,” explained McBride. “I’m not muddling about in the middle on that.”
No more than he muddled around at the top of Holland & Knight, where he served as managing partner from 1992 until last month, when he went on a non-paid leave of absence. He expects to resign from the firm “shortly” and opened a campaign account last week.
Under his hard-charging leadership, the law firm expanded into one of the largest in the country and among the top 20 in the world. Two years ago he was a keynote speaker at the White House on diversity and pro bono legal work.
“Bill McBride’s very bright, a quick study and a forceful personality,” said John Belohlavek, political consultant and chairman of the history department at the University of South Florida. “You’d have to be to lead that crowd.
“In terms of his persona, I think he’s electable,” added Belohlavek. “He’s large and imposing. Has a military and business background. He’s a Florida guy who understands economic issues and growth development. I think he can make the case for government being a positive force in improving the quality of people’s lives.”
And nothing ranks higher than education on McBride’s Florida agenda.
He calls Gov. Bush’s approach “mean spirited.””The A+ plan is just testing,” noted McBride. “He gives bad programs a good name and then tries selling it. ‘Opportunity Scholarships’ take money out of public schools. To suggest that any private school is better than a public school is disgraceful
The curly hair, the tiny glasses, the disarming smile, the unflappable manner are readily apparent. Less so, the unwavering ideals, the sense of history. And that ubiquitous presence — from CNN to Kathy Fountain to Local Access TV to high school assemblies to Rotary Club luncheons. Sound like any supervisor of elections you’ve seen lately?
Since last November, no local public official has had more statewide and national exposure than Pam Iorio, Hillsborough County’s supervisor of elections.
You may have seen her holding court in Tallahassee, testifying before a House Committee in Washington or waxing informed and articulate on “Larry King Live.” Out-of-town reporters had her on their notable- and-quotable short lists.
For the record, she doesn’t miss it — not that those days are totally behind her.
“I thought the national media were very much like the local media, trying to get at the facts and telling the story,” recalled Iorio. “I thought they did a good job; the print media in particular. But, no, I don’t have satellite-dish withdrawal.”
What she has are superb communication skills equally applicable across a range of constituencies and media, pointed out John Belohlavek, author, political consultant and chairman of the history department at the University of South Florida. Skills, say some, that would well equip her for a run at the Mayor’s office in 2003. More on that later.
“Pam can speak to people anywhere,” noted Belohlavek. “She can translate the language of bureaucracy to the people in the community and beyond about decisions that will impact them. But she doesn’t come across as glib or slick. She’s a wonderful interpreter of what can be confusing rules and regs.”
Indeed. During and after Chadfest 2000 and amid all the FloriDUH references and Katherine Harris parodies, Iorio seemed like a central casting godsend to the Vote-a-Matic state. She came across as pro-solution and non-partisan, a rare political parlay.
Now the three-term supervisor of elections is in the vanguard of voting reform: in Hillsborough, in Florida, in the U.S. Within the next 60 days she’ll be popping up all over the county — from Sun City Center to College Hill — to get voter input on post-punch card technology, both optical scanners and touch screen.
“I’ll take the technology to the public and let them test it out,” said Iorio.
This is possible, of course, in the aftermath of Florida’s recently revamped election system.
“I was pleasantly surprised with the final product of the Legislature,” assessed Iorio. “They listened to the input of the supervisors.” Especially, it appeared, to the president of the Florida State Association of Supervisors of Elections: Iorio.
And what they heard, loudest of all, was the need for modern, precinct-based technology. The resultant law includes $24 million to help counties buy optical scanners. Hillsborough’s cut is $1.2 million toward the cost of $3 million for the county’s 319 precincts. Should the county opt for a touch-screen system, the cost would be at least four times more than the scanners, unless Hillsborough joins other counties for a joint purchase. The situation, emphasized Iorio, is “still fluid.”
Vendors “coming out of the woodwork” underscore the need for purchasing prudence, she stressed. Ultimately, however, Iorio will make proposals on both systems to the Board of County Commissioners, who will foot the equipment bill.
What is not up for debate, according to Iorio, is Florida’s national reputation, however battered by the election debacle where 537 votes — out of 6 million cast — decided the presidency.
“The election of ’02 will get rid of that image,” predicted Iorio. “But keep in mind that what we had here was an extraordinary margin of victory. Some states probably had better written election laws than Florida — for example the automatic restoration of voting rights to ex-felons.
“But most states have a hodgepodge of technologies,” she noted. “If this had happened in California or New York, they would be unearthing all kinds of irregularities. As for Florida’s reputation, it only takes one election cycle. I think we will be a national model.”
She also thinks Florida, now a bona fide, two-party state with 27 electoral votes, will be a permanent, quadrennial battleground.
“Brace yourself in 2004 for an even bigger barrage of political commercials,” warned Iorio. “Florida is a microcosm of the country. As Florida goes, so goes the election.”
But what of that other election? Is a run for City Hall in the offing, as the media has routinely speculated? After all, a cursory glance at her public-service resume reminds you she’s more than the sum of her communications parts. It includes two terms on the County Board of Commissioners and chairmanships ranging from the Metropolitan Planning Organization, Hartline and Tampa Bay Commuter Rail Authority to the Hillsborough River Board and Tourist Development Council. She sits on boards the way the rest of us sit down for dinner.
The 41 year old is even scheduled to receive her Master’s Degree in American History from USF in December. She also hopes to turn her thesis, a look at election 2000 from the point of view of election supervisors, into a book.
You betcha she’s “seriously looking at it.”
The time to make that announcement, said Iorio, is January. Too early, too presumptuous and too busy right now.
“This is a wonderful and dynamic city,” she gushed in vintage candidate-speak. “It’s of a scale that’s livable. The economic base is sound. It would be a great honor and challenge to be part of charting its future. There is so much potential in the community. There is no other place I’d want to live.
“I have, however, a full agenda for now.”
Perhaps you’ve heard about the cultural brouhaha they’re having over in Tampa. For all its major-market accoutrements and Super Bowls, the city could learn a lot from downtown St. Petersburg about the value and role of the arts in helping to energize a city. And how to utilize a waterfront, but that’s another issue.
Anyway, courtesy of the 1996 Community Investment Tax — otherwise known as “Do Something to Save the Bucs with Taxpayers’ Money” gambit — Tampa has $11 million a year to spend on infrastructure improvements and public facilities. And Raymond James Stadium.
The city, led by its lame duck mayor, Dick Greco, wants to earmark about $4 million of the CIT annually — in bond financing over the remaining 25 years of the tax — for a cultural arts district and expansion of Tampa’s zoo.
Instead of a reasoned, even if impassioned, debate on the subject, however, discussion has degenerated into a class warfare exercise not seen since the Al Gore campaign. On one side is the arts crowd, easily labeled “elitist.” On the other are homeowners saying more should be done for the — no, make that THEIR — neighborhoods. It’s created this potholier-than-thou competition among neighborhoods, who are, in turn, pitted against downtown and its ostensibly self-absorbed, aesthetic set.
Hey, Tampa, if you want to be big league, instead of just hosting a Roman numeraled football game every decade, you’re going to have to act like it. This sort of “us” vs. “them” debate is now passe in progressive cities. When it comes to the arts, it’s not the “silk stocking” crowd vs. the neighborhood Philistines. The arts benefit all of us, as few other municipal investments do, across the range of neighborhoods and socioeconomic levels. It would be condescending to imply that only certain souls can be nourished or have their spirits sent soaring by the arts.
Otherwise, annual attendance for Tampa Bay arts organizations wouldn’t exceed 5 million. That’s about 2 million more than turn out for professional sports around here. Nearly half those arts-related admissions were free, 40% of whom were children. And this doesn’t include the 700,000 annual attendees at the Lowry Park Zoo, as egalitarian an experience as there is, and the 130,000 kids — from every Tampa Bay zip code — who attend zoo classes. And more, despite a downtown, public arts infrastructure limited to an outreach-driven but embarrassingly undersized museum of art; a convention center-annexed history center; and a first-class but stand-alone performing arts center. That the Poe Garage has the highest profile on downtown’s Ashley Drive should be exhibit A about Tampa’s past priorities, ones it should surely aspire to no longer.
Tampa’s CIT is a fortuitous opportunity to help it move to the next level — culturally and economically. The arts, as we were reminded in the cover story of last week’s Newsweek, are increasingly seen as “urban jump-starters, capable of attracting hordes of visitors, good press and even new business.” More than most major urban markets, Tampa — not yet a household name nationally — needs such investment infusions. The arts are real-world, multi-faceted catalysts.
The arts, first and foremost, are investments in a community — in its own quality of life and especially that of its children. This isn’t just Grecospeak or “monument building,” as one city councilman — and mayor wannabe — called the arts plan, which would include new facilities for the Tampa Museum of Art and Tampa Bay History Center.
The realization of Tampa’s potential will take vision. There’s a city council vote upcoming that will determine if the CIT funding will include the cultural arts district. Be interesting to see which way Tampa goes.
Here’s my advice to the city council members: Vote as if you were the mayor, not a maintenance supervisor.