"Is he like that at every meeting?"- "No Sharon, he's usually a lot worse. I think he's kinda nice tonight."
That's just one of the exchanges I had last night with Sharon Angle, Ron's beautiful and personable wife, a true class act who is obviously very near-sighted. Like the spouses of most pols, she's fairly apolitical.
Last night was just the second time in Ron's eight years on council that she's been at a meeting. You see, Ron broke his ankle a few weeks ago under mysterious circumstances. Some say he slipped on the ice outside his father's house. But his dad just laughed when I asked him what happened, saying, "I'll finish him off next time."
Last night, Ron was finishing off a few people on his own. He was rolling down the hallway outside council chambers in a wheelchair at about ninety mph - unlit cigar clenched between his teeth - moving like a bowling ball down an alley, knocking people over like pins. These were all pretty much advocates for Easton's 1753 Bachmann Publick House, so Ron was just eliminating some of the opposition. But one wheelchair can only do so much damage. The place was still packed.
Sharon came up a few minutes later and sat right next to me. It was very nice to see her. If Ron has mellowed over the years, it's because of her. She brought a newspaper about the arts and was trying hard to read that during the meeting, but Ron was just driving her nuts.
"Ugh! Did you hear that? He just called Stoffa a ..."
" - ... nincompoop. Yeah, I heard it."
"But he loves Stoffa. Wait till he gets home. I'm gonna' break his other ankle."
That's pretty much the way it went all night. Some county workers like Lorraine Parry, who was sitting in the row in front of me with her own very quiet husband, couldn't stop laughing. Sharon would pretend to read this arts paper, and then just drop it and say, "I can't believe him. What on earth got into him?"
Now don't get me wrong. Ron is mellowing, but he still alienated the entire city of Easton last night, including its very fine Mayor, Sal Panto. After asking Sal a question, he refused to let him answer. I honestly forget how Ron explained his way around that, and Sal did eventually get to speak and was his usual eloquent self.
Usually, during a council meeting, Ron will look in my direction once or twice, and give me a little smile or wink. But not last night. I think he knew he was in hot water with She Who Must be Obeyed.
Towards the end of the meeting, Ron tried to bail himself out. He complimented fellow council member Diane Neiper for the first time in two years, telling her she's been terrific as chair of the Human Services Committee, looking nervously in his wife's direction. He was also gracious to a Bethlehem Township resident, Felicia Miller, who came to voice concerns over a possible work release facility in Bethlehem Township.
And as he rolled his way out of the meeting room, he wanted me to drive him home. But Sharon was having none of that. I suspect that right around now, a cast is being fitted on Ron's other ankle.
5 comments:
if only he were a horse
I think several physicians on the former NC Interim Health Board would be more than willing to testify that Ron is a horse or at least part of one.
we love you too bernie
In my case, you don't even need to get a doctor to testify. Any judge will happily sign a death warrant, no questions asked.
Bernie:
Kudos to Mrs. Angle! I hope Ron gets well soon. I think it very rare that a member of council/commission has their spouse attend. I know my wife drove me to one of our board meetings when I was not feeling well. It was the only meeting she ever went to in my four years besides the swearing-in. She sat in the back of the room while we did the road show at Fountain Hill borough Hall, next to our director of Cedarbrook Nursing Home without knowing who he was. While debating a bill on a sprinkling system at the home, she asks him who would possibly vote against a sprinkling system for the nursing home. She told me at home only a knucklehead would do such a thing and wondered why all of the talking and cosponsoring etc. So for many months after, I used to call several common sense votes knucklehead votes. She was teaching second grade that year, and we talked about her rainy day fun watching her class play duck duck goose while she had a splitting headache. I told the board that the courthouse fiasco reminded me of her description of duck duck goose. That was the East Penn Press headline for the week! Maybe we SHOULD let our spouses take over for a while. They seem to have a grasp on what's important and what's BS. Things couldn't get that much worse!
Marc
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