You'd think Ed Norris would be sick of secret rendezvous by now. But when the mayor of Baltimore asked to meet him on the QT at a Hunt Valley hotel, he was game.
No matter that officially, the city was snubbing Norris, with police leaders refusing to appear with the ex-con ex-commish at last week's TV "town hall" meeting on crime. Privately, Sheila Dixon wanted his two cents.
So she approached him, spokesman Anthony McCarthy said, through "some of her police contacts who are still big supporters of Ed Norris" - not the usual channel for mayoral meeting planning. And like any good radio host, even one who regularly trashes Dixon on WHFS, Norris was willing to talk.
They met last week at the hotel's restaurant, a day or so after Dixon showed Commissioner Leonard Hamm the door.
"We had a personal, one-on-one meeting. No staff," Norris said. "We discussed strategy and personnel. ... She gained a lot of respect from me for that. What it told me is she's more concerned about the people who live in Baltimore than the politics."
Not that it's necessarily bad politics to cozy up to Norris. Despite his felony conviction, he remains a popular figure in Baltimore. He was, after all, the only chief in a generation to make a serious dent in homicides.
So even though the meeting was supposed to be hush-hush, Dixon herself confirmed it when word leaked out to WBAL-TV the other day.
"The folks at City Hall are pretty big fans of Ed Norris," McCarthy said. "There appears to be a great cult of personality around the commissioner. He certainly has us hooked."
Public reaction has been mixed, but McCarthy said most callers to City Hall have said they were glad the mayor picked Norris' brain.
"A lot of people believe during his tenure as commissioner he was pretty successful until he hit some bumps in the road," McCarthy said. "It's important we duplicate those kinds of successes."
Local eats
From the it's-good-to-be-governor files:
On a jaunt through Charles County, Martin O'Malley issued a proclamation to support "Maryland Buy Local Week." Along with a photo op, he got lunch out of it, The Sun's Andrew Green reports.
The menu, according to chef Rob Plant of Blue Wind Gourmet in St. Mary's County: cucumber stuffed with Eastern Shore crab; roasted tomato tart with goat cheese; fresh squash with Cajun olive oil; green bean salad with roasted red pepper vinaigrette; red potato salad with balsamic vinaigrette; watermelon; and cantaloupe juleps (without alcohol).
Nearly all the ingredients came from the Russell farm in St. Mary's County, with the notable exceptions of the iced tea - "It was brewed locally, but no, the tea was not grown here," Plant said. - and the lemons that went with it. There was also an assortment of petits fours from a local bakery. The provenance of their ingredients was unknown.
Next up: whatever
Jim Smith, the term-limited Baltimore County exec who's been raising campaign cash to run for who-knows-what office, will be the guest of honor at a "friend-raiser" at Eastern Yacht Club on Aug. 26.
Supporters who call themselves "The Shirts" are organizing the free, invitation-only event for 400 or 500, even though they're in the dark, too, about Smith's plans.
"We just have to wait and see," said Baltimore County political activist Don Crockett, better known to area parade-goers as sidekick to the departed Precious the Skateboarding Dog, and now, Precious II. "I walked with him in the parade, and I keep guessing and he just keeps smiling."
Connect the dots
Like the avid runner he is, Adam Meister likes to combine errands with exercise. Which is why the City Council candidate in Baltimore's 11th District is making this offer: "If you live or work in the 11th District, Adam Meister will personally run to wherever you are in the 11th and give you an orange and black window sign so you can show your Meister support to the world!" ... Reader Phyllis Clements writes in about hosting some friends from Western Maryland at a recent O's game, where their seats were high up behind home plate: "We were admiring the skyline when my friend asked, pointing, 'What is that building over there?' I asked if she meant the stepped, frosty glass building. She said, 'No, the one to the right, that looks like it's giving everyone the finger.' After regaining my breath and calming my hysterical laughter, I told her, 'That's the William Donald Schaefer Building.'"