discussion at the time was for a seat on the planning board.
For those who missed this week's session, here's what Weaver said:
"We're all human. We all use the English language, and sometimes we
use a word here or there that we [might later] say 'well, there could
have been a better choice of words.' Using lobbying in the context that
it was used, it was not the best word to use. There's more to it than I
care to discuss publicly, because I don't feel that it benefits anybody
for me to speak out and hurt people unintentionally."
Weaver's apparent regret over using the word lobby didn't satisfy me
much. Referencing the applications of those who ask for appointments, two
weeks ago Weaver said, "I have a brain. I can read." The word used to
characterize the unsolicited opinions of citizens isn't nearly as
significant as an elected official flatly declaring they don't want
Ironically, there was some vital information Weaver didn't know about
the applicants that was known to and could have been shared by literally
every person who tried to lobby him. He accidentally revealed that little
glitch this week, just after expressing his regret for having used the
Weaver explained the process by which he sorted through the candidates
two weeks ago, when he and his colleagues voted to reappoint the
incumbent. In short, he didn't.
"We never asked the city clerk to advertise [the upcoming vacancy on
the planning board], and there was no list [of applicants] provided,"
Weaver said at this week's meeting. "We had no other list of names to
look at, other than the individual we were planning to appoint."
Weaver didn't have to weigh candidates because, aside from his support
for what he says is a tradition of automatically reappointing incumbents
who've provided adequate service, he thought there were no other
candidates. Whoo-o-ops! He thought wrong.
The councilman who two weeks ago didn't need help choosing from among
the candidates didn't even know there were other candidates. City Clerk