The Lastest Episode In Oro Valley's Moronic Political Sitcom.
By Tim Vanderpool
EVEN AS ORO Valley faces a mostly self-inflicted onslaught
of growing pains--traffic gridlock, marginal infrastructure and
groundwater abuse, to name a few--the biggest hurdle is just prodding
voters to give a damn.
Go figure.
After all, who wouldn't be excited about OV's provincial political
culture marked by a moribund Town Council, with a legacy of more
petulant recalls than Don Diamond has pinkie rings?
Just ask Cheryl Skalsky. A long-time Council member in this
strapping bedroom burg, the 54-year-old politico was yanked from
her mayoral post in April, following a temper tantrum that saw
her cutting off speakers during a public meeting and finally just
stomping out of the room.
It's hardly a Skalsky first: She was also given the boot in 1994,
only to retain her seat when no opponent could be found.
Now she's on the rebound, fighting to reclaim her Council seat
after the town's fourth recall in the past five years. Facing
her in the Tuesday, March 9, recall election is campaign gadfly
Wayne Bryant, most recently the loser in a Democratic primary
against Tom Volgy, for Jim Kolbe's Fifth District congressional
seat. In 1996, Bryant was an also-ran against Pima County Supervisor
Mike Boyd.
Bryant is a vociferous steam-fitter, a union official, and president
of the contentious anti-Skalsky Oro Valley Neighborhood Coalition.
(She calls them the "Dead Bodies Club.") Others see
the Coalition as the town's best chance for clamping down on growth.
According to many local observers, Bryant is also the mouthpiece
for Rudy Roszak, another local player who was elected to the Council
in a 1995 recall vote, quit a year later, and now apparently spends
his spare time whipping up new recall votes.
It's a crowded sandbox, to be sure. But as the dust clears, both
Skalsky and Bryant remain in a bruising contest, even though Skalsky's
seat is back up for grabs in next year's general election.
BESIDES HER temperamental hubris, critics claim Skalsky
has been a patsy for developers, pre-empted public sentiment by
pushing through purchases of the Cañada Hills and Rancho
Vistoso water plants without voter approval, and secretly hankers
for a property tax. They also say she toadies-up to the area's
omnipotent golf courses by letting them continue to pump groundwater.
Baloney, she says, claiming that Bryant's own wish-list would
make a property tax unavoidable. That's because, among other things,
Bryant says he'll get tough with the courses by forcing them to
use reclaimed water. "And if I have to declare an emergency
and get a vote across the board, that's what I'll do to stop them,"
he vows.
But tugging that gray water from Tucson toilets up to Oro Valley's
putting greens is a multi-million-dollar proposition. It's unclear
who'd pay the tab.
Skalsky says golf course watering is a Catch-22 (especially since
resort behemoths like El Conquistador contribute mightily to the
town's coffers). "I think Wayne Bryant would shut down the
golf courses," she says. "He doesn't realize that many
of them already have grandfathered rights to groundwater.
"Many of the things he wants to do means we'll end up with
a property tax," Skalsky says, "and probably a lot more
money from residents. One of the classic examples is that he wants
to put a $35,000 impact fee on homes, and says the cost would
be split among homeowners, developers and the county. But by law,
the town would have to pay one-third of any impact fee."
Bryant disputes that, saying he doesn't support a property tax
in any way, shape or form. "I'd run over a cliff first,"
he says. Instead, he'd call for an immediate audit of town coffers
to see just where the money's going. "If we can put a halt
to it now, and reassess where we're at, take a look at our sales
to see what's coming in and going out--we should do it right away
to see what the bottom line is. And then we'd present it to the
voters and say, 'This is what we have to spend over the coming
year to accommodate growth. What's your pleasure?' "
That dovetails with Bryant's pledge for a tougher stance against
the kind of annexations now forcing embattled, neighboring Tortolita
up against the ropes. "I'm totally ashamed and appalled by
that," he says. "I firmly believe that every citizen
has a right to determine their fate. After all, that's why (Oro
Valley) was created in the first place."
Maybe so, says Skalsky, but those annexations were only to "square-off
the town. You don't annex for money--you annex to enhance your
town. As far as I'm concerned, the annexation we've done has one
intent: If it's undeveloped land, at least we have control over
the development. And we have real high standards."
She also lists get-tough ordinances enacted under her tenure,
especially concerning hillsides and grading. "And since I've
been on the Council, I've spent hours and hours negotiating for
lower density," she says. "Now a lot of developments
don't have the densities they could have had. Of course, my opponents
bitch that I work with developers. Well, duh.
"The issue is that the town and the government does not
own the land," she says. "The land is owned by people
who have it zoned, and have the American right to develop it.
The only way to stop development is to do something illegal against
their rights. So then they sue you, and what do you have? A lawsuit
you know you're gonna lose."
On paper, that contention could push Bryant, widely known for
his Libertarian views, into a far-right corner. But he doesn't
budge, instead calling Skalsky's stance "a cop-out. Every
time a developer came before the Council--and believe me, I've
seen it happen more than once--they wanted to down-zone and bring
in more," he says. "And they were always given permission
to do so."
The result, he says, are "homes crowded up against golf
courses, narrow streets and a shortage of sidewalks."
Finally, and characteristically, this scuffle comes down to personalities.
Skalsky says Bryant refuses to debate her; Bryant says the only
debate request was a ruse for his ambush on a local radio show.
Skalsky colors Bryant as a stooge for her arch-rival Roszak; Bryant
claims to be his own man, though his press packet includes a two-page,
anti-Skalsky diatribe penned by Roszak.
MEANWHILE, ONE ORO Valley retiree says he and his friends
are weary of the whole sordid mess. "First off, we don't
believe in recalls," says the resident, requesting anonymity.
"Second, this infighting is endless. That's why the vast
majority of people I talk to say they don't even care. And they
don't plan to vote."
Regardless of whose legacy that speaks to, both Skalsky and Bryant
apparently have plenty of work to do--even before Tuesday rolls
around.
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