One of the pleasures of reading local press accounts of a meeting in Whitewater is that through those stories one sees how local insiders want to be portrayed. It’s as close to an official’s Dear Diary entry as one is likely to find.
Readers will discover clues to the concerns, preoccupations, and worries of politicians and appointees in the parentheticals the newspaper helpfully and reassuringly inserts in otherwise embarrassing accounts.
If there’s mention of how an official failed to fulfill a contractual promise, one will read immediately following a mention of one excuse or another (for example, the freely-entered agreement was all so hard, so very difficult, you see).
There’s been a long history of this, in all sorts of local stories, many of these parentheticals being flimsy excuses, others being officials’ deliberate distortions or lies.
These excuses are the work of a mediocre clique, struggling to manage tasks beyond their ability. Can’t do this, won’t do that, might do this, just did that: it’s an assortment of rationalizations for indolence or incompetency, mixed with exaggerations and mendacity.
It’s revealing of officials’ preoccupations.
Still, nothing someone writes or says on their behalf can change the dynamic within the city, as those doing poorly cannot improve themselves through a newspaper account. Asides in print will not wash away poor performance and poor choices.
That’s the fundamental misunderstanding about local news and commentary, both: it’s truly powerful only when it corresponds to what people know to be true, from their own experiences, their awareness of history, and the principles of reasoning on which they know they may depend.
The rest is just a variation on ‘the dog ate my homework’ or ‘I caught a fish this big.’