By Joel Warner
By Michael Roberts
By Joel Warner
By Michael Roberts
By Alan Prendergast
By Michael Roberts
By Michael Roberts
By Amber Taufen
The Broncs managed to hire just about every lobbyist they could tackle this year in their rush to a financial windfall. Legendary fixers Wally Stealey, Bill Artist, Frank "Pancho" Hays and the formidable Steve Farber were all signed on. Stealey, Artist and Hays split $20,000 in Broncos cash as part of the lobbying gangbang, but the Brownstein Hyatt Farber & Strickland boys really got their hands deep inside Patsby's pockets. That firm--which sent attorneys Farber, Cole Finnegan, Gary Reiff and Ted Trimpa into the crush--collected approximately $10,000 a month from the team during the session.
Stealey seems to have been charged with the task of entertaining Colorado's fun-loving politicos. Records on file at the secretary of state's office show he spent hundreds of dollars buying food and drinks for the happy tipplers, including state senator Elsie Lacy, who sponsored the stadium bill in the Senate. Other recipients of Bronco food and drink tickets included representatives Vickie Agler, Debbie Allen, Norma Anderson, Jack Taylor and Brad Young. Senators Rob Hernandez and Jim Rizzuto were similarly feted--but a handful of legislators apparently still know how to see clearly through a gimlet glass, since Hernandez, Rizzuto and Young all went on to vote against the Broncos' bill.
It was Representative Doug Dean who got the real booty prize, though. The Colorado Springs Republican, who sponsored the Broncos' bill in the House, was given $300 worth of Denver Nuggets tickets by the Brownstein firm. Considering the pathetic performance of the Nuggs this year, maybe Deano should ask for a refund.
Do the math: Butt-covering seems to be a popular elective in the Denver Public Schools these days. At last week's school-board meeting, close to a dozen high-school principals and other administrators were scheduled to speak in response to Joseph C'de Baca, the contentious social studies teacher who has charged that the DPS brass has been cooking the books to boost graduation rates ("Zero for Conduct," April 23). Most of the speakers deferred to former West High principal Ed Cordova, who gave an impassioned fifteen-minute rebuttal to C'de Baca's claims of lax discipline, excessive credit waivers and other shenanigans. But while Cordova emphatically denied any sort of "conspiracy" in the top echelon of DPS, what little hard data he provided seemed to confirm at least some of what C'de Baca and several other teachers had claimed, particularly in the area of credits being waived to allow seniors to graduate. The now-retired Cordova admitted to granting nine such waivers last year; other DPS officials had told Westword that one of two waivers over several years would be typical. Add to that the number of students allowed to substitute other courses for required English or math classes, and roughly one of every ten 1997 West graduates took an unusual route to their sheepskin ceremony. Yet most of the counter-attack was focused on C'de Baca personally rather than the issues. School-board member Lee White called the teacher a "goofball" and "a bump on the road to progress." Fellow teacher Alan Chimento blasted C'de Baca as a "bad teacher" who was absent an average of one day a week when he taught at West. C'de Baca, who was scheduled to rebut the rebutters but instead left the crowded meeting early, says he was merely exercising his rights as a disgusted DPS employee. "Of course I took my sick days," he says. "Wouldn't you?"
Board to tears: C'de Baca isn't the only one who's been playing the dozens with the DPS board lately. Boardmember White, an investment banker who moonlights as a financial consultant to Pat Bowlen on the Broncos stadium issue when he isn't tackling education issues (L.W.'s job: helping P.B. line up the loans necessary to cover his share of the costs), was apparently none too pleased when a group of disgruntled Hispanic parents showed up to stage a protest outside his 17th Street office a couple of weeks back. Padres Unidos, a group lodged in a long-running battle with DPS over how best to address bilingual education, distributed fliers at the event declaring White "Guilty!!" of obstruction of justice because kids with limited English proficiency fare poorly in the DPS system. While they were at it, they added that he is an "ineffective political hack."
The strong words drew a strong response from a hacked-off DPS last week. District public-information officer Mark Stevens fired off a letter of complaint to the Chinook Fund, a local charitable foundation that helps bankroll Padres Unidos. In his missive, Stevens not so subtly suggested that the fund should cut the protesters off. "We assume that you would rather not support a group that relies on such tactics," wrote Stevens, adding that the get-Whitey flier was full of "mean-spirited lies and imagery." For now, though, it looks as though DPS will have to live with Padres Unidos's bedeviling tactics. According to Chinook Fund executive director Mike Roque, his group supports "liberal and progressive and radical organizations that don't have access to traditional funding"--and has no intention of turning off the tap. "We're kind of upset that DPS would actively try to seek to undermine a group's funding," notes Roque.
Translation: No way, Jose.
Life sure has been a drag lately at the Rocky Mountain News. First the newshounds over at the Denver Post trumped it on the all-important bus-tour issue, dispatching editors and reporters around the state in a 1936 Hupmobile so they can get in touch with all the little people out there. Then the News got caught running seven-year-old Dilbert comic strips in its business section--while the Post is running up-to-date versions of Scott Adams's popular strip--as part of new editor John Temple's hard-hitting new regime. Now the News is embroiled in another fine mess over an ad that ran in its April 27 issue touting the venerable Victory at Sea video series of PBS pledge-drive fame. The ad copy for that assemblage of World War II battle footage enticed readers by promising the vicarious thrill of watching "boats, planes, subs and entire crews of Japs...sent to a watery grave," a piece of Forties-era political incorrectness that didn't sit well with some members of Denver's Japanese-American community. On May 4, News advertising vice president Richard Avery sent a letter to several Japanese-American groups apologizing for the use of the ethnic slur and explaining that the paper usually screens ad copy more closely. But somehow, a few little mistakes just keep getting through. For instance, there was the itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny notice the News felt compelled to run this past Monday admitting that a May 2 house ad in which it crowed about its circulation leads over the Post "did not meet Audit Bureau of Circulation publicity rules" because the figures were "based on non-comparable geographic areas."
Oops. Shot down in flames again.
The revolution is televised: No, man, we're not in the Sixties anymore. But it sure felt like it last Saturday night when Bobby Seale gave a "speech for posterity" as part of KBDI/Channel 12's The 11th Hour series. The only one of the four speakers to run over his time limit, the former Black Panther paid no attention to the TV director's insistent signaling to stop--even when she stood up and kept drawing her finger across her throat. Who was she kidding? Seale was bound and gagged nearly thirty years ago in a Chicago courtroom for refusing to stop talking, and it's going to take more than a TV director to shut him up now. Besides, nobody else in the audience at the Source Theater minded the long-winded rap, because Seale was easily the most entertaining of the four panelists. The graying but enthusiastic ex-Panther carried on about his dream of "cooperational humanism," showing not one iota of bitterness about times past and revolutions lost. Prancing and dancing as he recalled the halcyon days when the Panthers confronted the Oakland cops with guns and law books, Seale reminded those in the audience who didn't already know that the Panthers were much more than just "Negroes with guns"--as notorious cross-dresser J. Edgar Hoover once portrayed them.
"I wasn't a thug! I was educated. I was an engineer. I saw things in three dimensions," Seale said. Time eventually has proved Seale right on a number of counts. He called Judge Julius Hoffman a "racist, fascist pig," and a federal appeals court eventually agreed with him, overturning his convictions--and those of the Chicago 7 activists on trial with him in 1969--while condemning Hoffman's courtroom's behavior.
Seale was a stark contrast to the Nineties revolutionary who led off Saturday night's odd-bedfellows performance. James "Bo" Gritz, Green Beret legend and militia-movement hero, gave an engaging but confusing ramble about the CIA running drugs into the U.S. from Bogota, government assassins murdering JFK, Ross Perot hiring Gritz to wipe out drug dealers (but not Burmese heroin czar Khun Sa), Randy Weaver holding off the feds, Ollie North lying, Richard Nixon lying, blah, blah, blah. "Life is a test," Gritz said. "But life is fragile, like a snowflake. Life is unfair. See where you want to be on the last day and work backwards."
Will somebody please give this guy some Valium?
Following Gritz was Candace Lightner, founder of Mothers Against Drunk Driving, who in her own quiet way gave a stern message: "Only cowards and weaklings blame others for their failings."
And following Seale was local missionary and man's man Bill McCartney, whose message for the ages boiled down to this: Believe in Jesus or else. "The highway of tolerance is no good," railed Coach Mac. "The straight and narrow road is the only way."
Coach Mac defined hell as "the ceaseless infliction of unbearable pain."
Finally, however, he stopped speaking.