Do you know what people in Welly World give each other for Christmas? Lawsuits! Just look at the latest round of stocking stuffers revealed in the local rag, aka The Palm Beach Post.
Let’s see what was hidden under the holiday palm tree over the past couple of weeks…here’s a brightly wrapped little package that doesn’t rattle when you shake it. It’s a suit filed by ESP against the Welly Village Council for not providing public records that ESP requested. At the crux of the matter, according to ESP, is that they keep getting slapped with code violations by the Village, while the Village continues to withhold a current version of the code that ESP needs in order to know what the rules are so that they can avoid breaking them. This gift is a bit of a Russian nesting doll. Open the first one and there are more inside. ESP says they made nearly two dozen requests (not a very legalese sounding number is it?) that were ignored, partly answered or answered too late by the Village. At the very middle, inside the littlest doll, is another accusation: that ESP made eight requests for documents related to the revocation of approvals for ESP’s Equestrian Village but has received not even a lump of coal from the Village of Welly.
Hiding way around the back of the tree is this little gem, wrapped in gold leaf paper with bejeweled ribbons tying it up. This one is a gift that keeps on giving. Sr. B. and ESP have filed it against the Village, but also against members of the Jacobs family as well as the Jacobs-owned company Solar SportSystems. The lawsuit weighs in at a whopping 122 pages long. Not only does it have multiple names on the gift tag, but there are several items in that 122 pages, including the accusation that the new council revoked permits as pay back to the Jacobs for footing the half million dollar campaign bill, and that two of the council members committed ethical violations (see gift number three, below).
At the risk of being accused of re-gifting, I feel compelled to also pull on the ends of this little Christmas cracker which was left under the tree for me by a knowledgeable coward who goes by the pseudonym John T. Ball. (If that is your real name I apologize, ‘Mr. Ball’. But since it’s obvious you are intimately acquainted with the Welly Wars and no one I’ve asked recognizes your handle I have no alternative but to believe you don’t possess even one of the items identified in your ‘name’). This one is actually a kind of accessory gift to the one immediately above, as it focuses on the evidence that suggests Mayor Margolis didn’t wait until Christmas to receive gifts from a couple of NO Equestrian Village folks. This gift comes with some instructions, in the form of a handy little chronology cheat sheet with a lot to read between its lines. You can find that right at the bottom. Of the article, not the barrel. Ok, the bottom of the barrel too.
Isn’t it time I came to terms with the fact that the Welly Wars are now being waged at the bottom of the barrel, or perhaps more apropos, the ditch? And since I’m in a confessing mood, here’s something else. Beat reporter Mitra Malek’s writing style leaves a great deal to be desired, but I have to admit that this last story I refer to has me questioning my journalistic skills. Because if there is a grain of truth in any of the accusations leveled at Mayor Margolis then I did one lousy job of sniffing out any unwashed laundry in my interview with him. I didn’t smell a thing.
Let’s take a little break from the Welly Wars, shall we? Maybe a long break. I’ve just about given up on the notion that there is any way to get at the truth, if there is any left. If you poke enough holes in something, you end up with more air than substance.
I’d like to take this opportunity to surprise you by expressing my sincere thanks to Sr. B for giving me the opportunity to blog about a certain megalomaniacal billionaire, whose hair is so fine and his politics divine. I’m talking about the Donald, of course, and his awesome jumping competition of last weekend, the Birther Invitational. I heard a rumor that the entry forms included a page that riders had to sign which declared they believe Obama to be a Kenyan Muslim. But I know that can’t be true because Jessica Springsteen rode, and we all know what team her daddy swings for. Bruce is such an enthusiast for Obama he even publicizes it on his own website. I’m actually a bit shocked that The Boss would let his daughter support an event put on by Trump, but perhaps my sense of irony is stunted by a lack of wealth and fame.
The writer of the Palm Beach Post’s story on the Trump show must be grateful for the retroactive editing opportunities offered by the virtual publishing world. When I read the story yesterday, the organizer was identified as Michael Bellissimo, but now it’s been corrected to Mark. That little name mix up got me to thinking about what would happen if we could create a hybrid from the two men whose names apparently got confused. Let’s imagine a perfect mix, where we could take the best of both men to create a Super Welly Man: the big sky thinking and steely determination of Sr. B, combined with the diplomacy and reasonableness of his right hand man. He’d be unstoppable! But in a good way, just like Clark Kent.
