Everything's OhKay!

By now, it's no secret that the current race for mayor has been the most incredible in Kansas City history. But well-placed sources tell the Pitch that Mayor Kay Barnes, who has been missing in action, had no idea what lay in store for her last week when she called members of the press to the corner of 14th and Central to hear plans for her next term in office.

"Welcome," she chirped at the reporters who had gathered around her, their clamp-on spikes biting into the clumps of asphalt and sodden earth. "I'm thrilled to see so many of you here on such a wonderful day in Kansas City."

She jabbed a forefinger at one of the only squares of sidewalk still intact in the urban core. "Kansas City's future begins right here," Barnes said. "I'm proud to announce that this week I will introduce an ordinance that should, once and for all, rid our city of Ultraboarders."

Just then, a zit-faced teen zipped by on a nuke-powered BareBack 360 Ultra, popping an "Ollie" on a crevasse and kicking up chunks of concrete. A cameraman, eager for an action shot to splice in with the mayor's talking head, scrambled for a good angle, lost his footing and fell screaming into a sewer system that hasn't been upgraded since 1886.

"Now more than ever, we must put a stop to these infrastructure terrorists," Barnes continued. "I have just finished negotiations with Senator Kit Bond to invest more than $300,000 in federal money on this very spot. This money will be used for streetscaping and flower beds, which will serve as a catalyst for economic renewal downtown. As I'm sure you're all aware -- "

"Isn't it a little late for that?" a reporter interrupted. "I mean, look where we're standing. This is the former site of the Power and Light Building, for crissakes! Shouldn't you have thought about this when Lenexa was using tax incentives to steal our landmark?"

Barnes' smile stiffened into a clench. "That's the kind of negativity that keeps Kansas City from progressing," she replied. "Too often we dwell on the past. The past has passed. We need to look forward. We need to acknowledge and be mindful in uplifting the wonderful things my administration is doing right now. Is everything perfect in our city? No. Are we making progress? Yes. And we will continue to make progress until Kansas City is the envy of Paris, London and Rome."

Barnes' choice of venues for the stump speech was an odd one. The loss of the Power and Light Building from the city's skyline had been one of the biggest failures of the mayor's six terms in office.

Common wisdom has it that Barnes' litany of debacles began in February 2008, when the Broadway, Heart of America and Paseo bridges crumbled into the Missouri River over a three-week span. In reality, the city's undoing had begun during the mayor's first term, when she repeatedly acquiesced to the various fiefdoms tugging for control of City Hall: the unions and infinite layers of middle managers who were ever hungry for raises; and the developers and lawyers who were insatiable in their thirst for contracts, tax breaks, an arena, and rows and rows of chrysanthemums downtown. Every time one of these power bases pushed for something, a Barnes-led council would hack a chunk out of the capital-improvement budget to appease it.

Her last real political victory came in 2006, when -- with the help of a telepathic, mind-control canvassing system devised by political consultant Pat Gray -- she persuaded voters to approve an amendment to Kansas City's charter that eliminated term limits. Since then, she's receded further and further from the public eye, limiting her rendezvous with the media to once a year. At her press conference last week, reporters were dying to bombard her with tough questions. She tried to hold them at bay by introducing Mike Sweeney, the former Royals All-Star.

"I am pleased to announce that, with the help of our many economic-development-incentive tools, Mr. Sweeney will be making a very important investment in our city," she said. "Mike, will you tell them a little bit about your exciting plans?"

"I'd be happy to, Kay," he said. "Last week, I purchased the old Kansas City Starfacilities, which have been vacant since the paper moved to Wyandotte County. I plan to publish a new magazine called Temples. It'll be kind of a cross between Christian Living and Hustler ... "

The reporters were having none of it.

"Where was Mike Sweeney when David Glass sold the Royals to the American Legion Little League?" one blurted.

"Yeah," chimed another. "Why don't you have him set up shop at the Kauffman Stadium Flea Market?"

"What about the street-paving budget?" one columnist asked. "Is it true it's down to just $86.13?"

"How can you call 6,000 miles of cratered streets progress?" asked another. "They've got better roads in Afghanistan!"

"That's not true!" Barnes barked, before regaining her composure. "But I'm glad you brought that up. I am pleased to announce that, under my direction, City Hall has just completed a report showing that Kansas City's roads are actually in very good shape. The real problem, we realized, was our flawed method of assessing the condition of our streets. Of course, when you count every single pothole or metal plate, when you listen to every whiny citizen complaint, you're going to get an inaccurate version of reality. So, for this study, we ignored all of that. And now I think everyone would agree that our streets are among the best in the world."