Once, while a freshman at Taunton High School, I earned an afternoon in detention for drawing a pair of eyeballs on small, round pieces of paper and placing them under the lenses of my glasses. The mock-eyeballs were created in order to give my teacher the illusion that I was awake, while I slumbered at my desk. Actually, the real reason I went through with the stupid gag was to make my classmates laugh.
From what I remember, nobody really got the joke; the eyeballs weren’t very convincing. However, my teacher, Mr. Caia, sensed that whatever I was doing in the back of the classroom with poorly drawn eyeballs underneath my glasses was certainly askance of whatever students are supposed to be doing (probably paying attention) and swiftly dropped the punishment hammer on my head.
I’m sometimes reminded of this story when I attend a public meeting, whether they are selectmen, school committee, planning board or shore and harbor. I’d like to think I have at the very least an average attention span. In fact, compared to the current generation of whipper-snappers being raised on social-media, texting and any other buzz-thing that makes me feel decrepit, I’m sure my ability to remain attentive would seem to span the horizon. Yet, there are times during these meetings when I honestly struggle remain engaged.
These times usually occur during any portion of a meeting agenda referred to as “Report of the …” or “Update From …” For those who regularly attend public meetings, what these words indicate is someone is going to talk: a lot. The inflection of his voice will likely remain unchanged while he talks, and he may or may not repeat himself multiple times. After this person finishes talking, the committee will ask him questions, which will likely initiate a response from the original talker that could potentially last longer than his original talking session. This call and response session, in real time, lasts about an hour to an hour-and-a-half. To the audience, though, it can feel twice as long.
Yet, now that I’m an adult, with a reputation (gulp) to maintain, I can no-longer engage in the kind of tom-foolery when bored or frustrated in a public setting as I did when I was a 14-year-old. Additionally, though all this talk may be mind numbing, couched deep within it are potential news items. Essentially, for the sake of doing my job well, I need to pay attention, and, for the sake of appearing like a responsible adult and not a petulant child, I also need to look like I’m paying attention.
I’ve picked up a few habits over the last year and a half in order to help me do that. For starters, I never go to a meeting on an empty stomach. For me, doing anything while low on fuel is a risky proposition, but for meetings, it’s especially unadvisable. Usually, when I’m hungry, I swiftly cycle through three emotionally states: cranky, inconsolable and confused. If I don’t find a way to consume a couple peanut-butter sandwiches before the third cycle ends, I either fall asleep or wander peacefully into traffic. Needless to say, I make sure that I’m well fed before I brave a meeting.
Secondly, I try to find somebody I know and can sit next to during these meetings. Having a companion to sit through a meeting with makes you feel a little less isolated in your torment. Also, a lot of the times during public meetings, I’m compelled by an innate urge to blurt out “OH, COME ON, SERIOUSLY!?” at least a dozen times. Usually this happens when a speaker will say something along the lines of “like I already said,” and follow that by expressing a sentiment that was, actually, just like something they already said. Sitting next to another person helps kill the urge to submit to instinct during such times of righteous frustration, if for no other reason than to avoid embarrassment.
Finally, even though public meetings are tedious, the topics discussed during them are often important. The reason people buy local papers is because they care about what’s happening in their schools, on their beaches, in their sewers and on their roads. They don’t have time to go to the meetings where these things are discussed in excruciating detail; so they trust people like me to go, and to pay close attention. In fact, it is in particular our diligence in these municipal matters, which a lot of larger newspapers have moved on from for reasons with which I could fill out another blog, that has allowed us to carve out a niche and stay vital.
So, I guess what I’m saying is that, considering the hard work that a lot of reporters who have come before me have done to carve out this niche, it would be exceedingly bad form for me to fall asleep inside it.
The views and opinions in the Enterprise blogs are those of the author and are not neccessarily shared by Falmouth Publishing.
