Trustee Hazelton is all-knowing

When it comes to understanding, er, proselytizing downtown paid parking, Trustee Hazelton's legerdemain is leg-en-dairy. Not only does she remember 100% of everything from her high-school level biology correspondence course (I think she was home schooled) related to randomized double blind scientific studies, she also is versed in logic puzzles and, hyperintuitively, what the absence of a letter of support from TAB means, and how it might mean the opposite of what you low-level cretins reflexively thonk it means, and vice versa. Plus she is always correct. So we have that going for us as taxpayers. We have to continue with the paid parking "experiment", sayeth Trustee Ovaltine, because the Loop was the variable last year and the paid parking "trial" (now in its third year) was the constant in reduced sales tax numbers. This year, the Loop will be the constant and paid parking will be the, um, second constant leading to a reduction in downtown business? Oh, I get it, paid parking is the eternal constant, and how much effort you put into crafting a cogent argument supporting it or anything related to being open to changing your mind based on data like income from sales tax is the variable. Neveryoumind, there are always carve-outs for library staff, so, honestly, Trustee Hazelbottom doesn't give a flying shit whether you want paid parking or not, or whether it hurts you as a downtown merchant or not. She is not merely a bureaucrat but also a former business co-co-owner and a philanthropist and a polymath and promoter, ultra-deserving and underappreciated, and everynight in her dreams an unabashed liberal (as far as spending, who knows how she feels about unwashed minorities) politician and unwavering supporter of utilizing other people's money for her pet projects while blaming them for not working harder with less (downtown green lantern-style street-lights ever making it up the hill to Moraine and the very business entities she should be supporting, since she lives a block away from Moraine, anyone?) to send the town more, and if this isn't all verifiably true it is her truth regardless. Plus her neighbor on the dais is so brain dead she peeks over whatever shoulder is available left or right to hitch the buckboard to and vote in tandem, so by this point the diana-mike duo (bi-curious?) can complete each others echoes. And if you need anything, from bone marrow to audition forms for the Voice, our local library hath it, quoth the lapdog, without ever bothering to buzz in first.