We Need aah. Does Payson have a plan?

Does Payson Have a Master Plan?

Great communities are not built by accident. Rome had a plan. Washington, D.C. had a plan. The question is: Does Payson have a plan?

Too often, Payson appears to operate under what might be called the "We Needa" approach to government. We need a pool. We need an RV park. We need a water line. One project after another is proposed without first asking how it fits into a long-term vision for the community.

A master plan is more than a collection of projects. It is a roadmap that guides growth, protects valuable land, saves taxpayers money, and ensures that today's decisions do not become tomorrow's regrets. Good planning identifies where parks, recreational facilities, public buildings, roads, utilities, and future expansion should occur before development pressures force hasty decisions.

Without a master plan, communities often make short-term choices that limit future opportunities. Land that could serve generations of residents may be committed to uses that provide only temporary benefits. Facilities become scattered rather than centralized, increasing costs and reducing efficiency.

The debate over town-owned property near the police department highlights the issue. Before deciding what to do with valuable public land, shouldn't Payson determine how that land fits into a long-term vision for the town? Someday that property could be needed for a recreation center, a swimming pool, public safety facilities, or other civic purposes. Once it is committed to another use, that opportunity may be gone forever.

The real question is not whether Payson needs an RV park, a pool, or any other individual project. The real question is whether those projects fit into a comprehensive plan for the future.

Successful towns don't simply react to today's needs. They plan for tomorrow's opportunities. Payson deserves a master plan that looks beyond the next project and toward the next generation.

The Explosive Question

 Was "Did You Vote for Trump?" a Fair Question?

At the Donuts with Democrats meeting last Saturday, candidates for Town Council were taking questions from the audience. Then came a question that seemed to catch everyone off guard:

"Did you vote for Trump?"

Two of the candidates openly identified themselves as Republicans. A third claimed to be an independent. The room full of Democrats seemed surprised that such a direct question had been asked.

One candidate openly admitted that he voted for Trump the first time, but would not do so again. Another Republican candidate danced around the question and never really provided a direct answer. The independent candidate also avoided giving a clear response.

Afterward, some people questioned whether the woman should have asked the question at all. I disagree. In fact, I think it was one of the most revealing questions of the entire meeting.

Why?

Because elections are about more than smiling faces and campaign slogans. Voters are trying to determine how candidates think, what values they hold, and how they are likely to govern once they take office.

Donald Trump is not just another politician. He is one of the most influential and controversial political figures in modern American history. Whether a person supported him, opposed him, or supported him once and later changed their mind tells voters something about that person's judgment, priorities, and political philosophy.

The answers themselves proved why the question was legitimate.

One candidate candidly admitted he voted for Trump the first time but would not do so again. Whether voters agree with that position or not, they learned something meaningful about him. They learned that he was willing to answer honestly and that his views may have evolved over time.

Another candidate apparently preferred not to answer directly. The independent candidate also chose not to give a clear response. That reluctance was revealing in its own way. Voters can draw their own conclusions.

The important point is that there was no wrong answer. A candidate could have proudly said yes. A candidate could have proudly said no. A candidate could have said they voted for Trump once and regretted it. What matters is that voters receive honest information.

Some argue that Town Council races are nonpartisan and that national politics should stay out of local elections. That sounds good in theory, but in reality political beliefs influence how elected officials view taxes, development, public spending, law enforcement, libraries, parks, and dozens of other local issues.

Political philosophy does not disappear simply because the office is local.

The woman who asked the question was not being rude. She was doing exactly what citizens are supposed to do in a democracy: gathering information about the people asking for her vote.

Democracy is not strengthened when candidates avoid difficult questions. Democracy is strengthened when citizens ask them.

If candidates want the public's trust, they should be willing to answer the public's questions. The voters can then decide for themselves what those answers mean.

That is not unfair.

That is accountability.

The Grey Ghetto

The Three Stooges and the Grey Ghetto Mentality

There is nothing wrong with being old. In fact, many of Payson's retirees built successful businesses, raised families, served in the military, and helped create the community we enjoy today. Age is not the problem.

The problem is that Councilmen Otto, Bell, and Ferris seem to govern as if nobody in Payson has a pulse. Their vision of the future appears to be a town frozen in time, where nothing changes, nothing grows, and every new idea is treated as a threat.

Some residents jokingly call Payson a "Grey Ghetto." While that description is unfair to many retirees, it captures the mindset the Three Stooges seem determined to promote. Their political base often consists of people living on the financial edge, worried about every penny of government spending and terrified that any change might somehow destroy the community.

What makes this especially strange is that Payson is no longer a poor little mountain town. This is a community where homes routinely sell for a million dollars or more. At any given time there can be dozens of homes on the market priced above two million dollars. Wealthy retirees, professionals, and successful business owners have chosen to live here because Payson offers beauty, recreation, and a high quality of life.

Yet the Three Stooges continue to act as though Payson is one step away from becoming a ghost town if the library buys a new book or the town invests in a park.

Their political playbook is predictable. If there is a problem, blame immigrants. If someone disagrees with them, accuse them of being radical. If the library acquires a controversial book, declare that civilization is collapsing because of pornography. If all else fails, dust off the latest Tea Party conspiracy theory and present it as settled fact.

Meanwhile, the real issues facing Payson receive far less attention. How do we attract younger families? How do we create amenities that increase property values? How do we make the town attractive to professionals, entrepreneurs, and visitors? How do we plan for the next twenty years instead of reliving the last twenty?

Instead of discussing those questions, the public is treated to endless culture-war theater. Residents hear more about imaginary threats than actual opportunities.

The irony is that the people pushing this fearful message benefit enormously from the prosperity of Payson. They enjoy the roads, parks, police services, medical facilities, and property values that come from a growing and successful community. Yet they often oppose the very investments that would make the town even better.

A healthy community requires vision. It requires leaders willing to think beyond the next election and beyond the latest outrage circulating on social media. It requires leaders who see Payson as a place with a future, not merely a retirement community waiting for the clock to run out.

Payson deserves leadership that believes the town can grow, improve, and thrive. The Three Stooges seem content to manage decline while blaming outsiders for every problem.

That may be good politics for the Tea Party crowd, but it is a poor strategy for the future of Payson.

An RV Park in the middle of Payson

 Payson’s Central Park — Or Another RV Park?

Imagine if New York City decided to turn Central Park into an RV park. Most people would think that was a terrible idea. Yet that is essentially what Mayor Steve Otto and his allies are proposing for some of the most valuable publicly owned land in Payson.

The Town of Payson currently owns approximately 21 acres adjacent to the police department. As Payson grows, that land could become one of the community's most important assets. Ramsey Park is already constrained by limited space. In the future, Payson may need room for a recreation center, a swimming pool, expanded public safety facilities, a fire station, or other municipal services. Having multiple public facilities located together can reduce construction and operating costs while creating a true civic center for the community.

Instead, Mayor Otto appears eager to pursue a deal that would convert this strategic public property into an RV park. Why? Payson already owns other land that could potentially be used for that purpose. Once this centrally located property is gone, the opportunity to create a long-term civic campus for future generations will be lost forever.

Mayor Otto recently claimed on KMOG radio that the town paid too much for the property. Yet the developer's own presentation to the Town Council suggested that RV park land in nearby Star Valley is worth approximately $450,000 per acre. Using that figure, Payson's 21-acre parcel would have a value approaching $10 million.

If those numbers are accurate, then the town has not lost money on the purchase—it has gained substantial value. The property may already be worth millions more than the town paid for it.

The real question is simple: Should Payson preserve one of the few large parcels of centrally located public land for future community needs, or should it give up that opportunity for an RV park that could be built elsewhere?

Some opportunities come along only once. This land may be one of them.

HAPPY. BIRTHDAY DONALD

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DONALD!

Back in the hills there's an old saying: "He takes the cake."

No expression has ever described a birthday boy more perfectly.

Most people wait for presents on their birthday. Not Donald. Why wait? If he sees something he likes, he just takes it.

At this year's birthday party, Republicans are expected to yell "Surprise!" as they present him with Canada, Greenland, and possibly a few other countries they found lying around unattended.

Buying a birthday gift for Donald is nearly impossible. Chances are he already acquired it through a combination of self-promotion, creative storytelling, and a generous campaign donor.

Of course, the party menu will feature a gigantic cake covered in gold frosting, with enough candles to trigger a national emergency declaration. The cake will be labeled "The Greatest Cake in History" before anyone has actually tasted it.

Guests will spend the evening competing to see who can offer the most flattering toast. Judges have ruled that facts will not be considered in the scoring.

As the celebration winds down, Donald will remind everyone that it was the largest birthday party ever recorded, despite photographic evidence showing otherwise.

So here's wishing you a tremendous birthday. A fantastic birthday. The best birthday. People are saying they've never seen a birthday like it.

And if anyone objects, just declare it fake news.

Happy Birthday, Donald. May all your wishes be granted by executive order.

Were busted flat

Is Payson Really Broke?

According to Mayor Steve Otto and his allies on the Town Council, Payson is constantly short of money. Residents are told the town cannot afford major improvements. A community swimming pool remains out of reach. Roads continue to deteriorate. Public projects are delayed or abandoned because, we are told, the town simply lacks the resources.

Yet there is an interesting contradiction.

A quick look at Zillow shows more than twenty homes currently listed in Payson for over $2 million. Luxury properties are becoming an increasingly visible part of the community. Wealth is clearly present in Payson, even while town leaders insist the community is struggling financially.

That raises an obvious question: If there is substantial wealth in town, why does local government seem perpetually unable to fund basic community needs?

The issue may not be whether Payson lacks money. The issue may be who is paying taxes, who is receiving tax advantages, and whether the community's tax structure is keeping pace with changing property values.

Across America, working families often hear that there is no money for parks, pools, libraries, road repairs, or public services. At the same time, wealth continues to concentrate at the top. The result is a growing disconnect between what communities need and what local governments claim they can afford.

Payson may be a small town, but it reflects a larger national question: Are public services underfunded because communities are poor, or because the tax burden is not being shared fairly?

Before citizens accept the claim that "Payson is broke," they deserve a transparent discussion about where the money is, who is contributing, and whether everyone is paying their fair share.

That conversation might reveal that the problem is not a lack of wealth. The problem may be how that wealth is distributed and taxed.

What a coincidence

The Traveling Pornography Circus

The other day a friend and I were walking down the street when the conversation drifted, as it often does in Payson, to Jim Ferris and his favorite political hobby: the pornography game.

My friend laughed and said, "You know, they used the exact same book in California."

Imagine that.

The very same book. The very same outrage. The very same speeches. The very same claims that civilization was about to collapse unless somebody rode into town and saved the children.

What are the odds?

Actually, pretty good.

If you pay attention to the right-wing outrage machine, it is always the same game. Somebody somewhere writes a script, and a thousand local politicians start reading from it. One month it's library books. The next month it's drag queens. Then it's immigrants. Then it's woke M&Ms. Then it's windmills causing cancer. The actors change, but the script stays the same.

The pornography panic is particularly useful because it pushes emotional buttons. Nobody wants children exposed to inappropriate material. The outrage merchants know that. So they grab a book, pull out a page, remove all context, wave it around at a council meeting, and announce that Western Civilization is under attack.

The audience gasps.

The politicians collect applause.

And nobody notices that nothing has actually changed except the amount of yelling.

My favorite example remains the Great Cat Litter Box Panic.

Remember that one?

Millions of Americans became convinced that schools across the country were installing litter boxes for students who identified as cats.

Think about that for a minute.

Schools can barely afford pencils. Teachers are buying classroom supplies with their own money. But somehow every school district in America was secretly funding feline restroom facilities.

The story was absurd on its face.

Yet it spread faster than a case of head lice in a kindergarten classroom.

People repeated it at coffee shops.

People repeated it at town halls.

People repeated it on Facebook.

People repeated it on talk radio.

The only thing missing was evidence.

To this day, nobody can seem to identify the mysterious school where hundreds of students are apparently wandering the halls meowing and demanding tuna sandwiches.

The story survives because it was never about facts. It was about fear.

Fear is political gold.

The same thing happens with books.

A book appears somewhere in America. Somebody declares it pornography. Soon the story arrives in Arizona. Then Texas. Then Florida. Then Idaho. Then every small town where a politician wants attention.

The details hardly matter.

The goal isn't to solve a problem. The goal is to create a problem.

Because when people are angry about a library book, they aren't asking difficult questions about roads, budgets, water supplies, housing costs, healthcare, or economic development.

Outrage is a wonderful distraction.

That's why these stories always look so familiar. They're manufactured in bulk and shipped nationwide like frozen pizzas.

This week it's a library book.

Next week it will be something else.

Maybe schools are teaching kids to communicate with aliens.

Maybe city hall is run by communist squirrels.

Maybe Bigfoot is operating a voter registration drive in the national forest.

Who knows?

The details change. The formula never does.

Find a scary story.

Repeat it loudly.

Ignore the facts.

Collect votes.

And if all else fails, tell the dingers there's a litter box in the library.

Somebody will believe it.