If any of the back row regulars at city council meetings had a nickel for every time they’d heard me lament the fact that I didn’t have a drink in hand, they’d have a pile of nickels you could respect the hell out of.

Of course, as storied a history as journalism and alcohol have together, I don’t think I would ever actually cross that line and sneak a flask or a forty into the council chambers. Never mind that it would be incredibly unprofessional, uncouth and the potential grounds for my termination. I was raised in a family where you brought enough for everybody or you didn’t bring any at all. There are a lot of people in that room, and I get the impression quite a few of them are very thirsty.

Nonetheless, I might finally get my chance to watch a city council debate while throwing a few back.

As many of you may know, what is debatably the most controversial, divisive issue to come before the city council this year — the proposed redevelopment of the Edgewater Hotel — will be taken up at next Tuesday’s city council meeting. Basically, if the Mayor isn’t able to get 14 yes votes to overturn a rejection by the Landmarks Commission, the plan, as it stands, is dead in the water. Under pressure from his board of directors and investors, developer Bob Dunn has said in no uncertain terms he will NOT seek to retool the project to appease the commission.

So high noon falls at 6:30 PM on December 8th. Dozens of worked up supporters and detractors of the project will pack the city council chambers to sound off during public hearings. Then, in the first real item on the agenda, the alders will get their turn, and the real fireworks will begin.

But on the night of the Super Bowl of city council debates, I’m going to be sidelined.

We’re in a recession. Our news room was understaffed. Then my buddy Erik left the news room to take a job in the governor’s office, and now we’re uber-understaffed until we hire a replacement. I’m told it’s something they’re working on, but until it gets done, I’m basically chained to an anchor’s desk on daysides.

I gave brief consideration to attending the meeting off the clock, and I haven’t ruled it out. But my mind got to percolating, and I decided I might be more comfortable watching the meeting from a couch or a barstool. Then I got really delusional and got to wondering if there might be anyone else as warped as me.

So I’m inviting fellow engaged citizens, bloggers, media-types, political junkies, policy-makers, masochists and anybody else who isn’t afraid to combine beer, politics and crass humor to the first ever CITY COUNCIL SUPERBOWL WATCH PARTY. Anyone’s welcome, supporter or detractor, as long as we’re agreed the debate will remain in the realm of civil, good-natured ribbing. Just let me know by Monday night if you think you want to come — leave a comment on the blog or shoot me an email.

If the interest is as minimal as I’m expecting, I’ll fire up the grill and host in my living room with a couple cases of beer. If enough people want to spend an evening watching city council debates and talking smack, I know a couple bars I think we could take over without too much trouble.

Of course, what’s a watch party without an associated drinking game? I’m working on the rules for that right now, and need suggestions — again, comment them or email me. I briefly considered making the rule that, “as long as Thuy Pham-Remmele is talking but NOT making sense, chug your drink,” but decided an ambulance visit would really dampen the evening. However, some other potential rules:

1. Any time an indecipherable city planning acronym is mentioned (TIF, RFP, UDC, etc), last person to blurt out what it stands for takes a drink.
2. Any time the mayor yields his seat to the city council president, players must sip from the opposite side of their glass for the duration or take an additional penalty drink.
3. Any time a city staffer is flummoxed by a baffling question, take a drink.
4. If the council takes a recess, players must take a drink for every minute beyond the allotted time the council waits to reconvene.
5. Any time Alder Tim Bruer makes a bad pun, take a drink.
6. Any time Alder Tim Bruer makes a good pun, finish your drink.
7. Any time one of the following terms or phrases is mentioned, take a drink — TIF, height limitation, historic district, right of way, waterfront, visually incompatible, media (more?)
8. Any time one of the following words or phrases is mentioned, finish your drink — hill people, turd spigot, bloggers, (more?)
9. When the final vote happens, supporters of the project buy the opposition drinks if the opposition wins and vice versa. Those who didn’t pick a side sit back and laugh at how worked up everybody else is, then secretly wish someone would buy them a drink.

Again, I need all the suggestions for rules and terms I can get. Email them to me or comment on the blog, and I’ll post a final draft of “Edgewater Debate Drinking Game” rules before Monday morning. Also, express your interest if you’re coming, so I can make arrangements to have a place to view the debate. The watch party starts at 7:00 Tuesday, and I’ll announce a location Monday night.

Did civic engagement ever sound so good?

Speaking of which, this is a big vote, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t urge you to contact your Alder and voice your opinion. I’m in support, so I urge you doubly so if we share that view.