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Unintended Consequences


Those that follow this blog know that for a little over a week now I’ve been on the verge of having a heart attack. I’ve written more profanity in this blog in that period of time than I’ve written in the previous 23 months, and to anyone that I’ve offended, I offer my sincerest apology.

In the interest of continuity and for archive purposes I’m leaving the postings up, so just like a TV show or movie I ask that you just avert your eyes from the offending postings or stop coming here as punishment. Heck, write me a comment and tell me how immature I am.

That said, I’d like to summarize my position on the K-Street Tree Project, and then get on with life here on the internet because there are much more important things in the world than my 50 ton tree trunk worth writing about.

Back in February when I originally came up with the idea of saving the old tree from the landfill, I had only two things in mind: “Saving the old tree from the landfill and erecting a really nice piece of art in an inner city minority community that doesn’t get much attention from artists and the public.”

In fact, about the only thing ever written about the K-Street area is the reporting of the latest robbery, murder, or break in, with the occasional “puff piece” about the nearby Girls & Boys Club thrown in once every few years for good measure.

It was just that simple.

When I took the project to the Mayor and the City, all I asked was that they honor my idea of putting the tree back home where it came from, or at least nearby. It would be easy enough to take it, have it carved, and toss it in the swanky already revitalized historic district adjacent to some half million dollar mansions and have a big black tie party as an unveiling, but that’s not what the City promised to do.

The other important thing, in my mind, was to keep the story under wraps until we could develop the project and knew the details before we went to the media and let the general public know what we were doing.

Yes, we wanted to control the story in a way, but I thought that the story is what it is, and I knew that publicity was a powerful tool and it had value in supporting our fundraising efforts.

Unfortunately, all of that is out the window now, because, to put it bluntly, I didn’t realize that I was surrounded by a newspaper company and a community full of Neanderthals.

They just don’t get it and, the more I say, the worse things get.

There’s a combination of racism, politics, and just plain stupidity at work here, and one slightly balding, slightly graying, slightly overweight man sitting on one little island cannot overcome forces that have had years if not centuries to build up and gain strength.

It’s not just blacks against whites or Democrats versus Republicans, you have the additional dynamic of Island residents versus Mainlanders, and Newcomers versus life long residents—and I greatly underestimated those issues when this all got started.

The bottom line is, like it or not, this thing has taken on a life of it’s own in the media, and nothing I can say or do now with change that or possibly undo the damage caused by the way the local newspaper as spun this story.

They (the newspaper) actually believe their own inept coverage, they’ve come out on the editorial page against it, published letters to the editor against it, and the public that actually reads the newspaper and listens to the radio is firmly against what really was an honest, sincere, altruistic effort on my part and that of the City.

In the end, the problem for me is, that this same negative publicity is causing potential donors to avoid getting involved in the project, and even potential team members and contractors are leery of getting involved. I had actually asked for price discounts or even free work from the concrete footing contractor and professional structural engineer designing the footing, but now I expect the best I can do is pay full price and keep their name out of it.

Finally, in losing my temper, I’ve looked like an immature teenager here on the blog and alienated both the newspaper editor and the political reporter that started the furor in the first place, and any day now I expect my name to come up in a newspaper article with a picture of a rabid dog or Charles Manson attached to the story.

Would someone please tell me why everything I touch these days seems to turn upside down?

Why does the “establishment” have so much inertia so as to prevent anything new and different from happening every once in a while?

I’ve donated thousands of hours of my time over the past two and one half years to non-profit theaters and other charitable organizations here in the Golden Isles, and with only two exceptions, each and every time a project with my name on it has come up for public scrutiny, they either gave someone else credit, left my name out entirely, or bitched at me behind the scenes for stealing the spotlight and not letting someone else take credit for my efforts when I did complain.

I know that it’s the thought that counts and everything, but once and a while, toss ME a bone too when I'm busting my hump on Saturday night and everyone else on the marquee is out drinking and toasting their success.

For the time being, I’m done with Glynn County and the people of Glynn County, Georgia. I’m going to finish my part of my beloved K-Street Tree Project, then step back and if it gets funded and installed fine, and if not…YOU know I did my best and what actually happened by reading the past week and one half here on the blog.

And, in closing this issue, I have one final thought for your consideration:

Imagine, if you will, what else the Brunswick News has done over the past one hundred plus years, if they are capable of doing this to a story about someone “A Wantin’ To Spend Thirty Five Thousand Dollars A Carvin’ On A Big Ole’ Tree Stump”?

Scary, isn’t it…