There’s just something about Old Orchard Beach. I don’t know what it is exactly, but ever since I moved here two years ago, I get a strange feeling every time I use my microwave oven.
Convinced that the Central Intelligence Agency has been beaming harmful, mind-controlling, ultra-sonic rays into my home, I spent this last weekend covering all of my windows with aluminum foil.
The aluminum foil, although expensive when purchased in square-yard sheets, has proven worthy of my investment. Not only have I outsmarted the spooks at Langley, I have also noticed a considerable savings in my home heating costs.
But I’m not the only one who is on to the conspiracy. And it would appear that the CIA is not alone in its subversive operations here in the sleepy, little town that is best-known for its French fries, thong bikinis and over-zealous meter maids.
Last week, Town Councilor Carmen Cook announced that she was “taking back her life” by resigning from the council. “You go, girl,” I exclaimed while reading her memo. “Good for you. Power to the people, Ms. Cook!”
According to Cook’s Jan. 20 memo to the town, she has been followed by the police from the time she was elected to the council in November 2002.
And although Cook has often questioned why the town has so many police officers and patrol cars, the boys in blue are apparently still short-handed because — as Cook alleges — a private detective was hired to pick up the slack.
Later in her memo, Cook states that she is “embarrassed” to be a part of Old Orchard Beach. So are we, Carmen. So are we.
Cook was elected to the council with an axe that needed serious grinding. Her latest resignation (she resigned previously in June) is — although predictable — nothing short of silly, childish and selfish.
In essence, when Carmen Cook can’t have things her way, it’s the highway. And that became especially relevant in June, when the five-member council voted 4-0 not to pay a special stipend to the town’s assessor — whom just happens to be Cook’s husband.
The town’s charter prohibits any town councilor from voting on an issue that involves their spouse’s employment with the town. While Peter Cook (not the most pleasant or polite individual I’ve ever run across) was given a $5,000 stipend by the council last year, this year’s council decided he didn’t need extra money, especially since the town opted to pay an outside firm $110,000 to perform outside valuations of all homes.
Peter Cook convinced the prior council that the outside valuations added extra work to his plate, interfering with the time he reserved for being especially rude toward bald newspaper editors.
The new council, which features at least two bald members, didn’t take the bait, however.
Many of the town’s employees got a four percent pay raise this year, but not Peter Cook.
Again, that darned charter prohibits pay raises for any employee whom has a relative serving on the council. So, Peter Cook got diddly squat and his wife huffed and puffed.
It was Carmen Cook’s idea to have “comment cards” placed in the town hall lobby. It was a good idea, designed to increase and enhance customer service. Maybe I should have filled out one of those cards when Cook’s husband flipped me the bird last year.
Often the lone voice of dissension on a council that is becoming increasingly responsible, efficient and civilized, Carmen Cook has accused other councilors of keeping her out of the loop. She has been openly hostile toward those she has disagreed with, and apparently believes that everyone is out to get her. Sound familiar?
Peter and Carmen Cook have not had an easy life. But despite whatever personal tragedies they have survived, there is no excuse for being rude or obnoxious toward others simply because of disagreements regarding public policy.
When my kid sister was still quite young, she had a pet phrase that she used whenever she stopped to think about one of her decisions. “I chain-changed my mind,” she would blubber while fiercely clutching her “kitty-kat” blanket.
Let’s just hope that Carmen doesn’t “chain-change” her mind about her resignation. She can have her life back (whatever that means) and the rest of us can focus on the important work that lies ahead for the town.
Carmen may, however, have a valid point about the town’s police department. Just last week, I noticed a police cruiser following me on Saco Avenue. Two days later, two guys from the public works department came to my house with a big truck and took away my trash without asking me if they could have it.
The insanity has got to stop. I want my life back, too. Maybe the aluminum foil will help.
LESSONS IN MEDIOCRITY 