Opening Letters

Neighborly Debate

after the April 1 election, our commitment to this community will remain

Michael Perry, illustrated by Erik Johnson |

Recently a neighbor asked me what I thought about the proposed Confluence Project. He didn’t ask if I was “for it,” or “against it.” He just wanted to discuss it.

I liked that.

As a guy who spends most of his time hiding out and typing alone, I admire those willing to take the lead – and the flak that comes with it – on public projects and issues. Frankly, I’m not cut out for it. If I owned a restaurant, we’d run a special on waffles all week long.

I do enjoy the conversations I’ve had – at fire department meetings, through pickup truck windows, in the waiting room, with folks for and against – in which we worked our way through the pros and cons in reasonable tones.

The yeas and nays of the Confluence Project have been widely aired. Thanks to active citizens the information is out there so we may weigh it for ourselves (excluding any update that begins, “Well, what I heard was…”). I have no red-hot fresh take. I am, however, acquainted with a number of folks involved on both sides (including close friends, relatives, and the aforementioned neighbors), so perhaps the one thing I can speak to is our tendency to impute nefarious intentions to those opposing us on any given issue. In some cases these suspicions are well-founded, but in this particular instance my experience is that by and large those leading the charge are simply dedicated to advancing – or maintaining – their vision of what the Chippewa Valley should be. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt – or more to the point, anger us – when someone not only can’t see our vision, but tries to block it.

When it comes to a project like the Confluence Project, it’s easy to throw down a lot of false divisions – art versus commerce, blue collar smarts versus ivory tower intelligentsia, on-campus versus off-campus, private money versus public money – when in fact this red-white-and-blue America (and my favorite things in it, including big, beautiful, four-wheel drive pickup trucks) exists thanks to the intersection of everything just listed. Today, as I round on 50 years of muddling along (22 of them as a self-employed typist who has expanded his corporate empire to include a single full-time employee), I’m glad there are fresh young entrepreneurs (in tandem with successfully established businesses and businesspeople) laying their money and future on the line in Eau Claire County. Many of them have two things in common: at every step of the way they’ve been told, Well, you just can’t do that. It won’t work in this town. Far more importantly, if you do a little digging, you’ll learn these same people have set in motion commitments to this community that will go forward whether the Confluence Project becomes a reality or not. Because of that, I’ll admit my heart is with them – it’s always safer to stay at the dock tossing out anchors than it is to raise the sail – but in the end we as neighbors will decide.

I’m not going to tell anybody how to vote. Haven’t been asked. But I do enjoy the conversations I’ve had – at fire department meetings, through pickup truck windows, in the waiting room, with folks for and against – in which we worked our way through the pros and cons in reasonable tones. Despite what you might think, not everyone is yelling at each other.

So, we’ll vote. And after all are cast and counted, we’ll still be neighbors.