With re-development a dead-letter matter all around Culver City, with unemployment about to take a jump at City Hall because of the budget deficit, who would have thought hiring the next Animal Services Officer would become the most urgent objective in town?
Isn’t it curious what unusual subjects animate certain people, such as City Council members Chris Armenta and Gary Silbiger?
They pressed City Manager Mark Scott excessively at last Monday’s meeting to crank up and grease the re-hire machinery before drawing another breath. By golly whiz, them there pets scampering about Culver City need a hometown overseer.
They urged Mr. Scott to call an Animal Services Officer Sub-Committee meeting and to order an “action plan,” as they identified it, from Police Chief Don Pedersen so a new officer could be named before the next full moon, quarter-moon, blue moon or the next cow jumps over a moon over Miami.
Never mind that the County has stepped into the breach. It is performing animal services tasks fulltime instead of just most of the time, except for the 40 hours a week that Culver City’s star officer was on duty.
It is not as if Culver City is suffering. During this respite, City Hall is saving a bundle of money, not least her salary of $47, 829.60.
What in the world is the Silbiger-Armenta sub-committee going to do about employing the next Animal Services Officer?
Nothing, as far as I can tell, which is what most impious sub-committees achieve.
Clashes between the City Manager and the City Council are as rare as the number of times my second wife embarrassedly admitted “I love you.”
The City Manager employed — the meeting’s operative verb for punsters –admirable patience in jockeying with the two Council members who pushed for acting now.
“There are a lot more issues involved with this that I need to deal with,” Mr. Scott told Mr. Armenta, diplomatically suggesting the Councilman’s nose was headed in the wrong direction
“This is what I do for a living,” the City Manager said, trying to make his stance still plainer. “I would hope the City Council can trust me to do my job the way I am supposed to do it, and give me a chance to do that.
“I will report back when I have the information I need to report back on.”
Mr. Armenta did not back off an inch. “That is not to be confused with us getting an Animal Control Sub-Committee meeting planned at some point?” he asked and declared.
Nor did Mr. Scott retreat.
“As you well know,” he said, going unmistakably on offense, “I would like to talk to the City Council about not having an Animal Sub-Committee, unless the City Council wishes to have that discussion right now, I am happy to have that.”
Let Me Be Clear
And then Mr. Scott spoke with rawness.
“I believe, frankly, that sub-committee is not helping us. It is hurting us. And I think it is keeping me from doing my job as well as I can do it. I have let the City Council know that. If that is something we want to have a public discussion of, let’s have a public discussion of it.
“But one of these days, we have to have to decide how we are going to do operations. And if the City Manager is going to do operations, I would like to have a chance to do that.”
Ouch.
It has been years since a City Manager has spoken that sternly in Council Chambers, dating back to the last century.
Mr. Armenta scarcely budged. He and Mr. Silbiger seemed to have pushed the no-discussion rule on non-agendized items as far as they could. Mr. Armenta sought to have the subject included on a future agenda. Look for this to heat up at next Monday’s meeting since reading subtle hints is not this Council’s strength.
The strangest part was everybody in the room, except the two Councilmen, realized that Mr. Scott clearly was uncomfortable about getting into the weeds with the two Councilmen. He said so. But they brushed him aside as dismissively as if he were lint on a new suit.
He said “Not now.” They said “Yes, now.”
The Councilmen prevailed. Their repetitious debate went on longer than young Stephanie Yarbro served as the first Animal Services Officer in a two-year pilot program.
Time was wasting, the Councilmen kept iterating, as if Culver City were standing naked before the world after the questionably motivated first Animal Services Officer abruptly quit last month. Before departing, the officer said that, for her taste, there was too much emphasis on enforcement and not enough on, shall we say, animal face time.
Let’s Go to In ‘n Out
Someone appears to be at fault for Ms. Yarbro’s jet-speed disappearance.
Over at the Police Dept., Lt. Raymond Scheu and Sgt. Omar Corrales sifted through the applications last year and chose her. Sgt. Mike Webb spent the ensuing three months training her, and then she became what old-time soldiers memorialized as a 90-Day Wonder.
What happened?
I don’t have patience for the young woman who walked out the door three months into a job that was created with more pomp and preening on the dais than if 76 Trombones had been prancing down Culver Boulevard.
Perhaps In ‘n Out Burger should sponsor the next round of this wonderful pilot program, inspired by Ms. Yarbro’s now-you-see-her, now-you-don’t version of the job.
