Looking Long Into the Abyss (Part 1.5)

Note: This was meant to be the second and final installment in a two-part series examining how the city manager's refusal to meet with the mayor fits into KFC's rapid descent into the Nietzschean abyss. But the rumor mill grinds on, turning fresh grist that compels us to linger a while longer on the manager and his mounting troubles at City Hall. Hence this impromptu addendum.

Rest assured, the regularly scheduled part two will follow as promised.

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Nowadays, in Coral Gables, even the good city managers tend to be transient. They serve at the pleasure of an increasingly volatile commission, after all, and thus remain always one heartbeat, one Menendez Mutiny, away from a hard exit; or in Peter Iglesias’ case, from being subjected to a symbolic tlacamictiliztli on the dais (the ancient Aztec human-sacrifice ritual).

Fun fact: It’s essential that the tlacamictiliztli always be performed as close as possible to the gods. That way, the blood of the victim can more easily reach the honored deity, hence why the Aztecs performed the ritual atop pyramids…and why Ariel carried it out mere feet from his own seat on the dais.

Aimless Amos Rojas, for his part, is looking increasingly ephemeral; his tenure shaping up to be little more than a political rebound relationship. Let’s face it, he’s only with us because our emotionally unstable commission suffered a manic episode, violently kicked their loving and devoted partner out of the house, drove drunkenly to the nearest bar, and picked up the first person willing to come home with them—conveniently ignoring, of course, the fact that said person charges by the hour.

Spotted: Then-candidate for City Manager Amos Rojas interviewing with KFC.

The inherently thin ice under Amos’ feet grows thinner by the day and, fittingly, appears destined to melt away fully come spring. That’s because Kirk—the Holy Father of KFC and patron saint of political expediency—looks like he will need a divine miracle to win reelection in April, the kind that would make turning water into wine look like a cheap parlor trick. Which is bad news for Amos, for Kirk is the way and the truth and the life. Amos cannot remain in the Gables except through Him.

George 5:12—"Whoever has the Kirk has life; whoever does not have the Kirk does not have life."

Which brings me to a thought that’s been gnawing at me for months now, one I have been reluctant to voice mainly because the last thing I want to do is help KFC. As Napoleon Bonaparte famously said, “When the enemy is making a false move, it is well not to interrupt him.”

Then again, they never listen to me, so what difference could it possibly make?

Here’s the thought: Because Kirk is so vulnerable, the most strategically sound, if cynical, move from KFC’s perspective would be to quietly convince Amos to leave on his own terms immediately.

Consider the calculus: Everyone knows Amos will get the axe if Kirk loses his race, leaving the sad remnants of KFC (a mere 'FC') powerless to unilaterally appoint another puppet in his stead. However, if they quietly usher Amos out the back door now (citing "family reasons" or whatever excuse suits), they conceivably have time to orchestrate a more defensible search for his successor before April's bell tolls. This would be the municipal version of what we see with aging Supreme Court justices who strategically retire when they spot an ideologically unfriendly president on the horizon, racing to secure their seat with a younger successor while their preferred administration still holds power.

Don't get me wrong, KFC's ostensibly improved recruitment process would still be a sham, and Amos’ replacement would undoubtedly be yet another Ariel toady. There isn't sufficient time to conduct a legitimate search effort before April, nor would one suit KFC's monopolistic interests. Moreover, any attempt to shoehorn in a new manager mere months before three-fifths of the commission is up for reelection would face justifiable backlash.

But at least they could claim they found their manager through a process slightly more rigorous than hiring a day-laborer from the Home Depot parking lot—thus dodging one of the sharper criticisms of their outlandishly spontaneous appointment of Amos.

Actually, if you really want to know the truth, the most sensible move might be for KFC to fire Amos. This is farfetched, I know, if for no other reason than it would require Ariel to admit to a mistake. He would have to concede that his crowning achievement after two years on the commission was not just a bust but an unmitigated disaster. Of course, this would also reveal character—a kind of maturity that is rare at any level of politics, much less Coral Gables—and would almost certainly strengthen Ariel's hand in the long run and prove remarkably rehabilitative for his reputation. He would be able to look the community in their collective eye and say, "You know what? I messed up. Amos was not the right man for the job and I see that now. Rather than double down on an obvious mistake for the sake of salvaging my pride, I'm willing to take this one on the chin and start over, because at the end of the day, it's not about me or my pride...it's about you. And I owe it to you, the residents™, to get it right."

Without question, such a move, even if ultimately pretense, would demonstrate sober and judicious thinking and the ability to play the long game—which is precisely why I can’t imagine Ariel going through with it.

It would also untangle what might be the Gordian Knot in this entire predicament for KFC. You may recall my mentioning the growing rumors surrounding Amos’ performance, or lack thereof. Well, those rumors have picked up serious steam in recent weeks, to the point where I'm now hearing them myself, firsthand—not just from people in and around City Hall, but from a handful of senior-level employees, including several directors.

They say it’s not just that Amos lacks the exceptionally strong work ethic his role demands, but that he lacks the minimum capacity to perform even the most basic duties of a city manager. They say he gets lost easily and is problematically forgetful. They say he has great difficulty with complexity, lacks a fundamental understanding across a wide range of issues, and is therefore unusually deferential to his subordinates. His five favorite words, a director told me, are “whatever you think is best.”

This tracks with what we’ve all witnessed with our very own eyes over the past nine months. We’ve seen a commission take up a host of weighty issues ranging from the millage rate to annexation, and yet you could transcribe on a single Post-it note every last word uttered by the manager during the two dozen or so commission meetings he’s attended. You could yank him out of his chair and place in his stead a potted Fiddle Leaf Fig plant, or even worse, a Dr. Castro, and experience no drop-off whatsoever in terms of insight and demonstrated mastery of the issues.

It's also said that Amos, to his credit, has come to his senses and begun to acknowledge this himself. Although he has for months been telling employees and commissioners alike that he never expected to remain past April, he has reportedly been confiding to those closest to him that he wants out now, that he feels like he's in over his head, and that he never expected the job to be quite so difficult and stressful.

But here's the catch: they say he's unwilling to quit, at least as of today. Not because of pride or reputation, but because of the simple fact that if Amos walks on his own accord, he will not be entitled to the five months of additional pay—roughly $120,000—that he would otherwise receive if he were fired. Therefore, he is, for now, gritting his teeth and doing his best to hold on until April, all the while quietly hoping Kirk loses his reelection bid so he can both put an end to his own misery and collect a decent little severance check as he strolls out the door at 3 pm for one last time.

How ironic, if true. It would mean Amos wants out now but remains trapped thanks to the same lust for a quick buck that landed him in this predicament in the first place. While Ariel, who would benefit immensely from Amos' timely departure, can't fire him because it would result in more egg landing on his face than his delicate ego can tolerate. How this deliciously stupid little game of chicken plays out is anyone's guess.

All I can tell you is that Ariel is doing everything in his power to avoid a collision without either party having to swerve. Hence his ramped-up efforts to cast Amos in a distinctly positive light, like how he conspicuously showered "incredible" Amos with thoroughly undeserved credit for the city's receiving a Baldridge Community of Excellence Award, something that, as some have pointed out, the city has been working on for years and that it effectively locked up back when Amos was still sipping wine at his cabin in North Carolina. This marks the first time we've seen Ariel steal valor on behalf of someone else. Desperate times, I suppose.

The most interesting example, though, lies in Ariel’s newest and still-developing Scandalopera involving the Biltmore; his latest P.T. Barnum-meets-Wile E. Coyote-like scheme to rescue KFC, and now Amos, from another disastrous news cycle.

You've probably heard plenty about it thanks to the Miami Herald article, Gables Insider post, CBS 4 TV coverage, and, of course, Ariel's recent e-blast ("Shock and Dismayed"). You've likely also heard Ariel's calls for a special commission meeting to address the total demolition unpermitted repair work at the Biltmore. If somehow you haven't, just know that Ariel's absurd messaging strategy is designed to convince gullible residents that whatever happened at the Biltmore represents the most damaging blow to Western civilization since this:

Rumor has it Ariel may have overplayed this one already, not because of anything of substance, which we know is unimportant thanks to Ariel's decision to condemn the organization that runs the Biltmore before conducting even a cursory fact-finding effort. But rather because of coalition politics, as sources inside City Hall say Dr. Castro is not fully onboard with Ariel's latest witch hunt, which is why he couldn't secure the necessary three votes needed to convene his auto-da-fé disguised as a special commission meeting this week.

And according to at least two people within earshot of KFC, Ariel's brilliant plan is to somehow lay whatever actually happened with the Biltmore at Lago's feet. How that would work is beyond me, since every lever of municipal power—from the manager's office to code enforcement—has been firmly within Ariel's grip since February. Not to mention the fact that the Biltmore is Kirk's home away from home, so how all this supposed defilement of our city's 'crown jewel' escaped Ariel's butler's attention is simply beyond me. Then again, does anything ever make sense in KFC's upside-down world?

In any event, I’m sure Tom Prescott has learned his lesson and will never again hesitate to comp Ariel a night’s stay at the Biltmore after the city’s Fourth of July Jubilee. I mean, come on, Tom, don’t you know who he is?

In sum, things may not be as rosy as they seem in Aimless Amos’ world. At this point, it’s a roll of the dice whether he stays, quits, gets canned, or is somehow rescued by Ariel’s DEFCON 1 level efforts to rehabilitate his image on his behalf. All I know for sure is that we are living in interesting times and I think I’m beginning to enjoy it.