Remember when Dan Coffey wanted to exclude transgender people from the human rights ordinance?

Dan Coffey's utterance, as captured Monday on film: 

"Every time you turned around there was something coming up about gays, lesbians and transvestites."

Ignore for a moment the plain fact that Dan Coffey's chief political patron, Jeff Gahan, has overseen the virtual mothballing of the Human Rights Commission, keeping it parked safely in the garage rather than being deployed as a mechanism to explore egregious outrages like -- well, Dan Coffey's entire tenure on the council. Coincidence? Someone call Poirot.

So ignore this, and remember that in 2012, Coffey voted in favor of the Human Rights Commission, but less than a year later, he reversed field, evidently when struck by a thunderbolt labeled "transgender" -- a word he could not bring himself to say aloud. 

Here's how it went down, as explained in this posting from May 7, 2013.

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Coffey: Planets and employers must be protected from human rights.

On July 19, 2012, New Albany's city council approved the establishment of a Human Rights Commission.

City council unanimously approves a human rights commission.

Unanimously?

That's right.

All eight council persons in attendance last July (Pat McLaughlin was absent) approved the final reading, including the 1st District's Dan Coffey. Reporter Daniel Suddeath of the News and Tribune even mentioned there was "little discussion" of the measure, which is the way I remember it, too.

Last night, at the council's first of two May meetings in 2013, the Human Rights Commission was back on the agenda. As city attorney Stan Robison explained, the new ordinance is meant to correct errant wording and change the HRC's meetings from every two months to quarterly.

(Shouldn't someone eventually ask aloud why all parties involved worked so long to procure this shiny new HRC vehicle, and now behave as though they're terrified at the prospect of it being rolled out of the garage? But it is late, and I digress)

A quick vote on first and second readings seemed imminent, but then it happened.

Gone for so long, the Copperhead suddenly returned to the fray. The old Dan Coffey oozed to the surface to begin an impromptu filibuster in objection to the stipulations of the Human Rights Commission, ones that he happily approved thrice before in 2012, evidently without ever reading the document he rubber-stamped.

So, what were Coffey's specific objections to the new corrective ordinance?

Did he seek to reject the pagination change, the subject-verb agreement reconciliation, or the meeting calendar reboot?

No.

It seems that somewhat belatedly, it has occurred to Coffey that when "Mars changes and becomes Jupiter," we must realize that employers are people, too, and keep these silly human rights considerations from applying to actual human beings in the private sector -- especially if said considerations are being passed along by (shudder) ... a "non-elected committee."

Gads.

Rather like the one Coffey voted to enable just last July.

Is this about Chick fil-A again?

Ah, but it seems that there's now a vague and unrevealed "situation," one that a councilman perennially obsessed with gaining all the relevant information could neither explain coherently nor describe apart from inscrutable code words normally reserved for whole planets.

Coffey's artless prattling continued as his fellow council persons scratched their heads. Even Shirley Baird forcefully objected to Coffey's formless meandering, and finally Greg Phipps asked whether the secret word just might be "transgender."

Coffey mumbled assent, still unable to bring himself to say the word aloud, but holding that in cases of interplanetary change, then it's "not the same person" any longer.

Leave it to John Gonder to state the obvious: The entire discussion, being entirely irrelevant to the ordinance being considered, sounded suspiciously like something for the Human Rights Commission to discuss.

That is, if the city ever lets it meet.

Phipps did not change the wording. The first two readings passed 8-1, with Coffey for once refraining from abstaining and hitting the "no to non-persons who dare to hold jobs in New Albany" button.

That's the situation, dear reader. We thought the old council was gone. Last night, there was a startling return to form.

ESPN's ombudsman follows up on the Dr. V story.

The source material is here: Heavy reading: A golf club, an outing, a suicide and Frank Sinatra. Robert Lipsyte's job is that of ombudsman:

ESPN appointed Robert Lipsyte for an 18-month term as ombudsman to offer independent examination and analysis of ESPN's television, radio, print and digital offerings.

For thoughts on ombudsman position in contemporary journalism, go here:

But in practice, the ombudsman jobs at such institutions as the Post and the New York Times have served primarily as safety shields for newspapers, with the ombudsmen catching, deflecting or containing the flak tossed by readers.

Finally, Lipsyte examine the Dr. V piece at Grantland:

Dr. V story understandable, inexcusable, by Robert Lipsyte (ESPN Ombudsman)

A young golfer’s obsession with an oddly shaped putter invented by a mysterious scientist and endorsed on YouTube? I will give that kind of story no more than a few paragraphs to grab my interest before I bail out, even if it is featured on a site known for compelling storytelling.

Just a few moments into reading that very story recently on Grantland, it was shaping up as another one of those bloated selfies that clog the arteries of sports-lit these days.

Four graphs and I was gone.

Thus, even though “Dr. V’s Magical Putter” was hastily hailed in the Twitterverse as another long-form masterpiece, I didn’t get back to it until after what would turn out to be a powerful backlash -- an angry and anguished firestorm captured in this e-mail to the ombudsman from Brenna Winsett of Minneapolis:

“If ESPN writers can hound a transgender person to death over something like a golf club, is there any line they won't cross?” she wrote. “This garbage makes a mockery of this woman's life and encourages readers to view transgender people's identities as frauds.”

Now, the story had my attention.

Heavy reading: A golf club, an outing, a suicide and Frank Sinatra.

For the hundredth time, thanks to Dave Zirin of The Nation for sportswriting that actually matters, on a daily basis. Zirin places sports into context, as a part of life, not removed from it. I only wish he had time to bring the same skills into beer writing, which is in a wretched state these days.

On Saturday, Zirin was tweeting about this saga. It begins here:

Dr. V’s Magical Putter; The remarkable story behind a mysterious inventor who built a "scientifically superior" golf club, by Caleb Hannan (Grantland)

... I play golf. Sometimes poorly, sometimes less so. Like all golfers, I spend far too much time thinking of ways to play less poorly more often. That was the silver lining to my sleeplessness — it gave me more time to scour YouTube for tips on how to play better. And it was then, during one of those restless nights, that I first encountered Dr. Essay Anne Vanderbilt, known to friends as Dr. V.

As soon becomes evident, this is not a story about a golf club. It is about a suicide, and a writer getting the story, whatever the outcome (in this case, chilling), because "The Story Is The Most Important Thing" -- as lucidly critiqued here by a fellow writer.

SINATRA’S COLD IS CONTAGIOUS: Hostile Subjects, Vulnerable Sources & The Ethics of Outing, by Maria Dahvana Headley (GLITTERING SCRIVENER blog)

THERE ARE THINGS ABOUT BEING A WRITER THAT SUCK. One of them is that as a writer, you’re sometimes sold a bill of bullshit.

Here is a prime example: The Story Is The Most Important Thing.

This line is a lie, but in order to make students pay for writing instruction – and sometimes in order to fuel our own egos as writers who often professionally neglect the people in our lives so that we can sit in silence making things up – we have to have a culture in which story matters more than anything else.

The Dr. V story is sobering enough, and Headley's deadly accurate corrective edifying, but what of colds? Specifically, what the hell is meant by "Frank Sinatra Has a Cold"? Read all about it here:

FRANK SINATRA HAS A COLD, by Gay Talese (April, 1966 in Esquire; 2007 reboot)

In the winter of 1965, writer Gay Talese arrived in Los Angeles with an assignment from Esquire to profile Frank Sinatra. The legendary singer was approaching fifty, under the weather, out of sorts, and unwilling to be interviewed. So Talese remained in L.A., hoping Sinatra might recover and reconsider, and he began talking to many of the people around Sinatra -- his friends, his associates, his family, his countless hangers-on -- and observing the man himself wherever he could. The result, "Frank Sinatra Has a Cold," ran in April 1966 and became one of the most celebrated magazine stories ever published, a pioneering example of what came to be called New Journalism -- a work of rigorously faithful fact enlivened with the kind of vivid storytelling that had previously been reserved for fiction. The piece conjures a deeply rich portrait of one of the era's most guarded figures and tells a larger story about entertainment, celebrity, and America itself. We're very pleased to republish it here.

CM Cappuccino shops for aquatically appropriate locker room signage.

Of planets and employers

Quality of life assumptions

Nash suffers through a Coffey-centered council conclave.

We watched last week's council ordeal together. My version came in two parts.

Coffey: Planets and employers must be protected from human rights.

Gone for so long, the Copperhead suddenly returned to the fray. The old Dan Coffey oozed to the surface to begin an impromptu filibuster in objection to the stipulations of the Human Rights Commission, ones that he happily approved thrice before in 2012, evidently without ever reading the document he rubber-stamped.

and

Council still snoozing as Meginity asks for a Bicentennial Commission audit.

Unfortunately, if Meginity believes a council that has tended to regard bicentennial oversight as a disease akin to poison ivy or genital warts now will be swayed by the mere eloquence of a whistle blower to perform long overdue audits, he's likely to receive yet another clear reply.

Now, by fluke of the calendar, we're sentenced to another meeting this coming Thursday, May 16. We know there'll be a bicentennial audit resolution, which Dan Coffey will oppose because he possesses all the necessary information, and for whatever other tactical copperhead maneuver of the moment, he's up for some Caesar fluffing.

KZ on BicenComm: Pass me an abacus.

Not unexpectedly, commission member (and councilman) Bob Caesar could not be reached for comment. What are the odds that he votes on the resolution rather than recuse or abstain? Solid, I'd say.

It's really too bad about the bicentennial experience to date. Apart from audits and oversights, had the big kids just decided (for once) to be genuinely inclusive and let others have just a bit of sandbox time, we might have accomplished something. But from the very start, the foremost imperative was to guard the birthday from those who would use it. Oh, well; it's all so utterly New Albanian.

There's always the Tricentennial.

For this reason, I decided that NABC will sit out this year’s “official” commemoration, better to honor “next,” or the more hopeful, forthcoming party we’re all guaranteed to miss – not because we were not invited, as was the case in 2013, but because each and every one of us will be dead as door nails in 2113.

Take it away, Matt.

NASH: Lessons from a council meeting, by Matt Nash (N and T)

Over nearly four years of writing this column, I have attended many New Albany City Council meetings. I had been taking a little break from going because of the emotional toll that it takes on my soul, but I decided to return this week ...

... When he had finished speaking, Mr. Coffey gave a vote of confidence to Councilman Bob Caesar as co-chair of the committee, and said that the council had been given every piece of information that they asked for. No one else had any comments and the meeting was adjourned.

Mr. Megenity’s comments raise some very important concerns. Has the all the money that has been collected for the bicentennial events been accounted for? Why was the treasurer not in charge of depositing all monies? How many people had the ability to write checks on the committee’s account?

Coffey: Planets and employers must be protected from human rights.

On July 19, 2012, New Albany's city council approved the establishment of a Human Rights Commission.

City council unanimously approves a human rights commission.

Unanimously?

That's right.

All eight council persons in attendance last July (Pat McLaughlin was absent) approved the final reading, including the 1st District's Dan Coffey. Reporter Daniel Suddeath of the News and Tribune even mentioned there was "little discussion" of the measure, which is the way I remember it, too.

Last night, at the council's first of two May meetings in 2013, the Human Rights Commission was back on the agenda. As city attorney Stan Robison explained, the new ordinance is meant to correct errant wording and change the HRC's meetings from every two months to quarterly.

(Shouldn't someone eventually ask aloud why all parties involved worked so long to procure this shiny new HRC vehicle, and now behave as though they're terrified at the prospect of it being rolled out of the garage? But it is late, and I digress)

A quick vote on first and second readings seemed imminent, but then it happened.

Gone for so long, the Copperhead suddenly returned to the fray. The old Dan Coffey oozed to the surface to begin an impromptu filibuster in objection to the stipulations of the Human Rights Commission, ones that he happily approved thrice before in 2012, evidently without ever reading the document he rubber-stamped.

So, what were Coffey's specific objections to the new corrective ordinance?

Did he seek to reject the pagination change, the subject-verb agreement reconciliation, or the meeting calendar reboot?

No.

It seems that somewhat belatedly, it has occurred to Coffey that when "Mars changes and becomes Jupiter," we must realize that employers are people, too, and keep these silly human rights considerations from applying to actual human beings in the private sector -- especially if said considerations are being passed along by (shudder) ... a "non-elected committee."

Gads.

Rather like the one Coffey voted to enable just last July.

Is this about Chick fil-A again?

Ah, but it seems that there's now a vague and unrevealed "situation," one that a councilman perennially obsessed with gaining all the relevant information could neither explain coherently nor describe apart from inscrutable code words normally reserved for whole planets.

Coffey's artless prattling continued as his fellow council persons scratched their heads. Even Shirley Baird forcefully objected to Coffey's formless meandering, and finally Greg Phipps asked whether the secret word just might be "transgender."

Coffey mumbled assent, still unable to bring himself to say the word aloud, but holding that in cases of interplanetary change, then it's "not the same person" any longer.

Leave it to John Gonder to state the obvious: The entire discussion, being entirely irrelevant to the ordinance being considered, sounded suspiciously like something for the Human Rights Commission to discuss.

That is, if the city ever lets it meet.

Phipps did not change the wording. The first two readings passed 8-1, with Coffey for once refraining from abstaining and hitting the "no to non-persons who dare to hold jobs in New Albany" button.

That's the situation, dear reader. We thought the old council was gone. Last night, there was a startling return to form.