Nailing The Neighborhood Bully REPACK
Mrs. Love has had just about enough of Small Hands' antics. He's been terrorizing the neighborhood and bullying her son, so Sheridan figures a bit of an intervention is in order. Sheridan is ready to make a deal with Small Hands - give him the fuck of a lifetime if he changes his ways. It doesn't take long for Sheridan to hop on his hefty dong, all the while shaking her voluptuous big ass. This is one lesson Small Hands is sure not to forget!Cast: Sheridan Love & Small Hands
nailing the neighborhood bully
2. Going private. Citing a pressing need to support himself after he steps downfrom office in 1997, last spring Mayor Bruce Todd announced the formation of anew marketing alliance called Todos, offering PR, consulting, and lobbyingservices. Critics complained that the mayor was placing himself in an ethicalsnakepit by announcing a desire to make money while still in office; he wouldlikely be approached by companies interested in taking over the publicutilities Todd has been pressing to make private. Todd assured reporters thathis new firm will not benefit from his mayoral push towards privatization. Infact, Todd spent a lot of time deflecting questions about the P-word in 1996 --every time it was mentioned together with the F-word (that's Family), you couldalmost hear the collective feathers of Todd's wife and father-in-law --Elizabeth and George Christian -- ruffle. But we can't help it if the mayor,who has been pushing to privatize the electric utility for more than a year, ismarried to the daughter of a man who works for a company that is waiting inline to buy it. All three parties said they never talk about privatization, socould we just drop it already?3. The Case of the Missing Atheists. It's a puzzler. For a loud-mouthed womanwho loved the spotlight, there had to be something pretty appetizing to makeMadalyn Murray O'Hair disappear from her Austin home without a trace. Her son,Jon, sold his Mercedes in San Antonio at about the same time that he, Madalyn,and Robin Murray did their vanishing act. (Of course, $600,000 is alsomissing.) And two dogs belonging to the trio pulled a Houdini as well. DavidTravis, a local who worked at the American Atheist General Headquarters shortlybefore the disappearance and discovered bank statements detailing accounts inNew Zealand containing large amounts of cash, is one of many atheists who saythey feel betrayed. "They have not only walked away from everything they builtand stood for, but they dealt it a blow because Madalyn Murray O'Hair did allshe could to tie her name to atheism." illustration by Doug Potter 4. ACC's Follies. The Austin Community College's (ACC) board of trustees tookfoible and folly to new heights in 1996. ACC's losing season includes a sack bythe Save Our Springs Alliance, which found a way to thwart ACC's plan to laydown stakes for a new campus on top of the aquifer when it successfully suedthe board for violating open meetings laws. ACC trustees didn't win too manyfans either when they took to poking their noses into the affairs of day-to-dayadministration -- a pesky habit that sent ACC Prez Bill Segura scurrying off tolaissez faire pastures in L.A.'s community college system. Now, the ACCtrustees have resolved to hang tough -- and together -- to get the communitycollege back on the road to proper academic decorum. This show of good behaviorwas aptly demonstrated last month in the board's unanimous vote for RichardFonte to succeed Segura in the president's office. We'll see what the nextsemester brings.5. Something reeks at RECA. Using corporate money to benefit politicalcandidates is supposed to be illegal, but during the 1996 city councilcampaigns, Austin voters caught a glimpse of how big-money interests can skirtthe law. They watched the Real Estate Council of Austin -- which boasts averitable who's who of developer interests on its board -- perform somequestionable services when it funneled more than $90,000 of voteridentification information paid for with corporate money to its favoritepolitical candidates at rock-bottom prices. In another ethics-flaunting displayof corporate money-laundering during the city council races, the Austin GunShow, Inc., paid for a direct-mail campaign pushing city council candidates whowere pro-gun. Austin voters were not amused. None of RECA's or the Gun Show'spicks were voted in.6. Gimme a T! Gimme an I! Gimme an F! What does it spell? Okay, so maybe thespirit of TIF (tax increment financing) fizzled out and didn't become thehousehold name that downtown boosters had hoped in '96. The cheering squad hadtried to get city council's blessing on creating a TIF district downtown as afunding mechanism for public-private development ventures such as apartmenthouses and retail concerns. When council didn't deliver on the deal, chamber ofcommerce warlords proceeded to do some napkin-talk strategizing. The idea wasto go over council's head and ask the Lege straight out to make TIF the law.Word of this under-the-table maneuver spread quickly and the TIF spirit fizzledstill further. But the downtown crowd has yet to cave on this one. Expect theenthusiasts to spiff up the TIF proposal in '97.7. A little less cute of an acronym, please. This year saw Brigid Shea's FairCampaign Finance Ordinance spiral into a crash-and-burn free-fall before iteven got off the ground. But from the ashes rose Austinites for a Little LessCorruption. The grass-roots group, with the help of Priorities First!, workedhard to gather 29,000 signatures that at first failed to pass muster with thecity clerk. After a successful fight for a recount, the ALLC came ever so closeto putting the measure on the ballot, only to have it die on the dais whencouncilmember Ronney Reynolds -- who favored the measure at first blush --performed an about-face and abstained on second reading, nailing the lid on thecoffin of campaign finance reform for last season.8. Money talks. Morales walks. When Victor Morales, a high school teacher fromMesquite, rode in on his white pickup truck to save us from the reelection ofU.S. Senator Phil "ready money" Gramm, he was doomed from the start. But what aride. Morales' low-budget, grassroots campaign took us back to the days whenhandshakes and town squares were the place to politick -- not at $1,000-a-popfundraisers. Morales may have been clueless at times, but at least he gaveGramm a run for his money.9. But will he tuck us in? Big daddy Bruce Todd continued his social tinkeringinitiatives in 1996 (remember the no-smoking ordinance?) with a couple of newvery, very important rules to live by. First, don't be homeless. That's bad.Second, don't ride your bike without proper head gear. You might fall down. Andthird, brush your teeth before bed.10. Gridlock. Traffic relief was a constant theme all year, as neighborhoodgroups from as far south as Oak Hill to as far north as Westover Hills foughtconstruction of freeways, widening of streets, or traffic-inducing commercialdevelopments in an effort to retain their neighborhoods' integrity. AustinTransportation Study members had their work cut out for them as they struggledwith decisions that could effect water quality in Barton Springs for years tocome. And our mass transit system known as Capitol Metro, such as it is, got areprieve from threats of revenue cuts when efforts to roll back the one-centtax to one quarter of a cent failed to materialize. Top 10 Political Moments illustration by Doug Potter 1. Next thing you know, he'll be wearing an algae tie. Newcomer Rich Oppel musthave felt so calm and at one with his adopted community when he took aceremonial dip at Barton Springs on New Year's Day, 1996, as part of the PolarBears' annual cold-water swim. Of course, the Chronicle reported on theodd sight of the Cox-owned "real-estatesman's" top editor, who had earlierexpressed an inability to "generate appropriate angst for the Barton SpringsSalamander," bobbing with the endangered amphibians. While Oppel was coolinghis heels in the pool, three sources say, Freeport's Jim Bob Moffett wassteaming about the escapade, and about Oppel's alleged bias in attendingS.O.S.'s New Year's Eve Bash the night before. Oppel, who confirms he heardsomething about possible Moffett complaints, says he doesn't give a damn aboutanybody's views on his swimming habits. Funny, though, there was no sign ofOppel in the treacherous waters of Barton Springs this January First.Oppel explains that he had scheduling conflicts this time around.2. Gong Show. Catcalls greeted Mayor Bruce Todd when he spoke at theinauguration of the council-elect last June. Impatient environmentalists andcommunity activists hooted, talked to their neighbors, or flat-out left as themayor droned on about his plans to systematically privatize everything underthe sun. Okay, not everything, just the water and wastewater utility, trashcollection, health clinics, parks and recreation, and the convention center.S.O.S. lawyer Bill Bunch, who was among the rabble-rousers crying for Todd toshut up, explains that he was anxious for inaugurees Beverly Griffith, DarylSlusher, and Jackie Goodman to have their moment in the spotlight, not "to hearBruce's grand plan to sell off anything of value the city owns."3. Knives or Bare Knuckles? Eric Mitchell, Austin's oldest schoolyard bully,received an e-mail from In Fact newsletter creator Ken Martin, pointingout that the councilmember hadn't properly filled out his contribution andexpense reports. Mitchell told Martin to research it himself, and if he had aproblem with that, well, "bring it on!"4. With lawyers like this, who needs enemies? Trivia question: Who said thefollowing quote? "Constitutionality aside, it is simply wrong to give oneapplicant advantage over another based solely on the color of one's skin."Buzz. No, it was not a lawyer arguing for the plaintiffs in thelawsuit against UT Law School for its admissions policy which favored minorityapplicants over whites. It was our own state attorney general Dan Morales at apress conference last May announcing the state's appeal to the U.S. Supremecourt on behalf of UT. The attorney who filed the original suit told a DailyTexan reporter that Morales' arguments sounded "like something we couldhave wrote." The nation's highest court subsequently refused to hear thecase.5. Hark, the councilmembers sing. In the touching-moment category, 20 formerand current councilmembers and mayors struck a peace treaty and corralledthemselves into the same room together for some old-fashioned politicalharmony, if such a thing exists. The holiday sing-along at the annual ArmadilloChristmas Bazaar included the likes of Max Nofziger, who organized the event,Lee Cooke, Frank Cooksey, Carole Keeton-Rylander, Lowell Lebermann, BrigidShea, Jackie Goodman, Beverly Griffith -- you get the picture. But truly thesight to behold, the one we will never forget, was that heart-palpitating sceneof Mayor Bruce Todd and nemesis ex-councilmember Louise Epstein making a joyfulnoise unto the rafters while standing right next to each other.It was so... so... Talk amongst yourselves... we're getting farklempt.6. Props are important. Place One candidate Jeff Hart learned that the hard waywhen one of his supporters took it upon himself to place a gaggle of 15screaming children waving "You gotta have Hart" signs behind thelawyer-turned-politican as Hart swept into Palmer Auditorium to claim a spot inthe runoff against opponent Daryl Slusher. The supporter pointed to Hart andshouted, "make sure these kids stay with this man," dooming Hart to look just alittle too much like the soccer moms' dream as the obnoxious young onesjockeyed for position to make faces at the television cameras. Hart's financecommittee chair derisively observed aloud, "No kids came in with Daryl."7. The set-ups are on her. That Margo Frasier had a battle on her hands in hersuccessful quest to become the first female sheriff of Travis County shouldcome as no surprise, especially when you consider some of the tactics used tobesmirch her. Take, for example, just one of the set-up calls made to SammyAllred's and Bob Cole's KVET morning show on which Frasier appeared with herRepublican opponent: "Do you agree that your personal alternative lifestyle isan issue?" Frasier stopped the caller in her tracks with a simple "No." Nuffsaid.8. Breaking up is hard to do. Last summer, the public breakup of the friendshipbetween former Chronicle columnist-turned-councilmember Daryl Slusherand longtime source and premiere S.O.S. defender Bill Bunch brought dismay andworry to the truest believers in Austin's environmental causes. Had Slusher,who, in part, built his reputation on reporting environmental abuses, won aplace on the council only to go to the dark side? The disagreement between thefriends stemmed from a headline-grabbing Texas Court of Appeals decision thatthe S.O.S. ordinance should never have been cast aside by a Hays County jury.Great, said Bunch. That means that all the developers the city granted permitsto under a weaker water quality ordinance should now have to refile under thestricter S.O.S. Not so, said the unrecognizable Slusher, citing, among otherreasons, fear of the Legislative repercussions. Slusher and Bunch have sincekissed and made up, especially in light of the recent release of a hard-coreset of environmental initiatives Slusher vows to make reality.9. Departing is such sweet sorrow. In a telltale moment that revealed more thanjust bitterness, but also an inability to propel a cohesive progressivemovement, then-councilmember Max Nofziger refused to sit down for aChronicle Q&A last spring with then-fellow councilmember BrigidShea: "You see, the problem is, she's a talker. I'm a listener." As two of thecity's most progressive and faithful watchdogs, Nofziger and Shea stepped downfrom the council dais last June, leaving a string of disappointments behind.Three years ago, after the 1992 S.O.S. vote sparked the ascendancy of thecouncil's progressive majority, the future had seemed so bright for the liberalduo. But over the years, the two filed numerous counter-proposals oradjustments to major conservative efforts, but produced few of their own. AsEric Mitchell once needled Shea: "I've been here two years. What have you donesince you been here?" Oh, and let's not forget that sterling Max moment whenthe councilmember-turned-musician rolled up his sleeves to hawk cars on TV.10. Did you say suck? Drunk with victory after a bitter campaign, much-malignedTravis County D.A. Ronnie Earle likened his run against lock-'em-up formerassistant attorney general Shane Phelps to bathing in napalm. What the outcomeof the race illustrates, he said, "is the power of community, not the power ofgunslingers. Gunslingers suck, right?" Got something to say? The Chronicle welcomes opinion pieces on any topic from the community. Submit yours now at austinchronicle.com/opinion. 041b061a72