It takes a different kind of bird to run for City Council.  That was my thought last night as I sat in the audience watching and listening to the six Victoria candidates answer questions from the Carver County League of Women Voters.
At its peak there were a total of 42 pairs of ears and eyes pointed in the candidates' direction, including those of Allan and me.  Even though that number is much less than 1% of the total population of Victoria, I thought it was a rather respectable showing, considering other priorities.
Oh, well, what will be, will be! Allan and I were not sitting alone in the large Victoria City Council Chambers, and we recognized almost everyone else in attendance ... which reminds me that Victoria is still a very small community.  But if I hear the phrase "small town charm" one more time, I will probably have nightmares.  Surely there is another way to express that overused sentiment.  How about "traffic trap" or "pothole paradise"?
And so I was wondering about the difference between the 42 people at this private public showing and the six candidates seated up front in front of the microphones.  And I was also wondering about the other 5,200 Victoria folks who were probably enjoying an evening at home with their families, reading bedtime stories to their kids, finishing up the dinner dishes, snoozing in front of the boob tube, tending to the day's mail and magazines.  As I sat upright on a hard metal folding chair for two hours, I was envious of the homebodies.
And that's when I said to myself, "It takes a different kind of bird to run for City Council."  Choosing to give an exorbitant amount of energy and hours for people outside the immediately family unit -- on a regular basis for an entire term of office -- is not characteristic of your average kind of bird, as far as I know, which isn't very far.
During the slow parts of the evening forum, I tried to figure out what kind of birds, indeed, were sitting up front.  They aren't chickens, that's for sure!  Chickens don't run for City Council; they run for their lives.  And they aren't ducks, because they are confronting the issues, not ducking them.  They aren't geese, because they aren't flying south for the winter.  And they aren't swallows, because not a one of them is swallowing rhetoric or short sound bites, outside of "small town charm."
What kind of birds are those who run for City Council?
For the most part, candidates for City Council are not turkeys; I've seldom seen a wattled head and neck on them.  For the most part, they're not blackbirds or starlings or grackles; they've got more class than those noisemakers.  For the most part, they're not mockingbirds or nighthawks or sapsuckers; they fly higher than that.
They're not seagulls that trail a boat on Lake Minnetonka as soon as popcorn is thrown in their direction.  They're not penguins that see issues in black and white; most municipal issues are not moral issues and therefore come instead like 64 crayons in a big box.  Issues on the city level are most often not right or wrong, but a wide spectrum of colors.
As the evening wore on, with the conversation not new to this editor or to readers of the Gazette, I decided these candidates are like woodpeckers -- they can whittle away endlessly until they finally get to the core of the subject -- and they also have a touch of peacock in them, as they shamelessly fan their accomplish-ments and opinions.
They are like eagles that can soar high into the clouds, but will also perch for hours on a power pole.
These candidates are like purple martins that can nest comfortably on the busiest street in town or the quietest nook in the country.
They are like hummingbirds that can hover in place for an entire evening without running out of gas.
They are like cardinals that can sing in dense thickets, woodlands, swamps, parks, neighborhoods, and City Council Chambers.
They are like owls that roost in private offices during the day and come out to public meetings at night.
If I had my druthers, which I do, which kind of bird do I choose?  I choose the sparrow, a friendly one not given to haughty or hurtful ways, a commoner that will share its feeder with others, a well equipped soul that can hold its own among friends and against newcomers, and is always a-twitter about good news of the day.  I choose the sparrow because its heart is almost always in the right place and that means a lot to me.

                                                                                ~Sue