By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
But say this for Dallas Mayor Laura Miller. In recent weeks she has been candid about her change of heart since getting elected to her first full term as mayor 16 months ago.
She took office as a firebrand populist hell-raiser focused on potholes and bulk trash pickup, with a long history of attack on "the boys downtown" and their big-ticket projects.
Now she's a boy.
She was quoted in The Dallas Morning News last week as crediting her husband, asbestos lawyer and veteran political broker Steve Wolens, with her extreme makeover. "My husband told me I was stupid. He's a lot more mature than me."
I'm not sure the voters understood she was still growing.
Miller told D magazine recently she no longer sees conspiracies. Of course, nobody sees a conspiracy after joining it. Then it's a project.
Miller is open about her new love for big-ticket projects, especially the Trinity River project, which she used to revile. In her recent state of the city address, she waxed lustful about efforts to bring three "designer bridges" by Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava to the Trinity River downtown.
With long dramatic pauses to emphasize the sexy wonder of it all, she told a hushed council chamber: "In 16 short months we will break ground on the 40-story...[pause]...gleaming white...[pause]...Woodall Rodgers extension...[long pause]...Santiago Calatrava signature bridge over the Trinity River, one of three that will be built at the foot of downtown...
"Dallas, Texas, will not only be the only city in the United States with a vehicular bridge designed by Santiago Calatrava. It will be the only city in the world with three of them."
I was holding my breath, too, while she spoke. This is a breathtaking change of perspective for Miller--breathtaking. Don't take my word for it. Visit Sharon Boyd's Web site at www.dallasarena.com and look for the item "In her own words." Boyd, a former Miller supporter turned disenchanted critic, has published a collection of Miller's campaign materials.
In one brochure, for example, candidate Miller said, "We've done the big projects to attract corporations to Dallas...Now it's time to take care of the people who are already here.
"I have a big vision of the little things that make a big difference in people's lives. A world-class system of roads, where potholes aren't deeper than the Trinity. Improving education, because signature schools matter more than signature bridges."
I can see why the downtown boys would appeal to Miller, a fastidiously fashionable product of corporate Connecticut. I always think of something a liberal political consultant friend of mine said after meeting with an assemblage of neighborhood activists who wanted him to run a campaign for them:
"I looked around this big sweaty church hall," he said, "and the first thing I thought was 'Great, somebody got all the losers in town together, and they want me to work for them.'"
The boys, on the other hand. Well, they're the boys. They can stand in front of her and say, "Look at this suit I'm wearing, Laura. You see any suits like this over at the hippie church? Tell me this suit doesn't remind you of your old man. You think I got this suit being a neighborhood activist?"
All of a sudden she's waxing poetic about the Woodall Rodgers extension.
On June 16 in a little-noticed meeting in a conference room at the back of City Hall, Miller showed how her new personality is going to affect real decisions. This was the biweekly briefing session of the city council. Miller was championing a proposed "limited government corporation" for downtown.
The proposal calls for giving a lot of power--the power to do basic planning, to sell bonds and raise money, to build roads and parking structures, to decide transit issues, basically to determine how downtown should be developed--to a semiprivate body made up of appointees, barely half of whom would even be Dallas residents. It's a product of the mayor's "Inside the Loop" committee of downtown "stakeholders" headed by Belo Corp. (Dallas Morning News) CEO and Chairman Robert Decherd.
Retired TXU Energy Vice Chairman David Biegler, who presented the proposal, told the council over and over that the need was for everyone to be "singing out of the same hymnal" about rebuilding downtown. "The bottom line is we need one plan with one set of accountabilities."
Several members of the council suggested to Biegler that the duly elected representatives of the city's many and diverse constituencies tend to bring different visions to the council chamber. "We probably have 15 different visions," council member Leo Chaney said.
James Fantroy said resolving those different visions has always been the difficult but politically sacred task of the council.
Other members were piqued that the Inside the Loop proposal seemed to be coming to them full-blown, with details already worked out, even though half the council had been told little about it beforehand.
"I will tell you I am surprised at today's briefing," Councilwoman Lois Finkelman told Biegler. "I recall very clearly meeting with you and [council member Sandy Greyson] in Miss Greyson's office a number of weeks ago. As I recall, we both raised a number of questions with you...and I have heard nothing, nor have I been included in any meetings until today. So I am surprised to hear there are bylaws, that there's a draft contract, that there is an operating plan. And it has not come to any council committee.