General Board Meeting Recap: September 17, 2025

“When Transparency Takes a Sick Day”

Ah, the monthly gathering of taxpayer-funded chaos never disappoints. The September meeting served up the usual menu: selective enforcement, revisionist history, budget hijinks, and a dash of deceit — all garnished with procedural bluster and an early adjournment for takeout.

Public Comments: The Only Part Worth Watching

Let’s start with the highlight reel — public comments. You know, the part where actual residents speak, and the board looks like they’re waiting for their dinner order to arrive.

This month’s theme? Inconsistent deed enforcement. Specifically: overnight parking. Apparently, residents are now parking across sidewalks to avoid getting a nastygram from the Deed Police. Because nothing says “community harmony” like forcing strollers and joggers into the street.

Cybersecurity or Cyberstupidity?

The award for Best Revisionist History goes to Beth Jones and Chris Rocco, who, back in June, told us their conference enlightenment inspired them to have the district iPads checked for cybersecurity issues.

Turns out that was fiction. Public records revealed that one of those iPads didn’t go to a cybersecurity expert — it went straight to the district’s attorney prosecuting residents. He then handed it off to a forensic analyst to dig up dirt on David Flores. Spoiler: they found nothing nefarious — unless you count the stench of political sabotage.

Hard failure for Rocco and Jones.

Street Parking Saga: Renters vs. Reality

A gentleman renter politely asked if maybe, just maybe, he could park on the street overnight. Cue Rocco, puffing up like a procedural peacock, explaining how to amend the deed restrictions. Because obviously, renters with 9-month leases are lining up to change covenants recorded in 1984.

Meanwhile, residents are told if it’s between street parking or blocking the sidewalk — pick the sidewalk. Neither Williamson nor Travis County will ticket you, but the neighborhood enforcer will gleefully send a violation notice. Choose your adventure.

And Rocco’s claim that “residents over there” are demanding enforcement? Pure hyperbole. Translation: Beth Jones. The only person ever to publicly ask for it because well, the children who play in the street in the middle of the night.

Budget Games: The Midnight Rewrite

From 17:57 to 1:42:23, the board slogged through the 2026 proposed budget. Except — surprise — the version posted online wasn’t the same one presented in the meeting. Because transparency is optional.

Jones and Avila (the self-appointed Parks Committee dream team) quietly inserted a $258,000 “park improvement” for Anderson Mill West Park. When asked under open records what that covered, the district replied: Translation: it doesn’t exist.

This is déjà vu for anyone who remembers Jones’ last park project — the infamous $50,000 deadly treehouse. Lesson not learned.

Avila, bless his heart, argued with himself about the $258,000 figure because even he didn’t know about it. Spoiler: Jones runs her own show. Avila just hasn’t realized it yet.

And about those “Priority 1” park failures from December 2024? Still not fixed. Neither are the Priority 2s. But who needs maintenance when you can play architect of the unnecessary?

The Half-Million-Dollar Oops

The unreleased budget — because why let taxpayers see it — runs half a million dollars over revenue.

Avila’s solution? Scratch out critical lift station rehab projects for Sunchase and Dagama to make the math work. Then, because logic is dead, he suggests issuing bonds to cover the infrastructure needs he just deleted.

Yes, you read that right. When the money runs out, just borrow against the future. Those developer-approved bonds from forty years ago are apparently the new district credit card.

Director Flores, the lone adult in the room, tried to remind the board that the MUD’s mission is water, not wish lists. Prioritize needs, not wants. Avila prefers debt and drama.

The Bookkeeper Who Moonlights as a Sponsor

Our favorite bookkeeper has decided her job now includes conference promotion — for an organization she just happens to sponsor with an ad for her business. Nothing says conflict of interest like marketing your side hustle from the taxpayer’s ledger. She remains, by every measurable standard, recklessly unqualified.

Tax Rate Time: Rocco’s Broken Record

Every year, like clockwork, Rocco recites his favorite line:“Our tax rate is lower than Cedar Park’s.”

What he never mentions is what Cedar Park taxpayers get for their money. Spoiler — it’s not secret budgets, deed threats, or forensic witch hunts. Apples and oranges. Or, in this case, apples and compost.

The Great Escape

As discussion got too real, Jones and Avila were visibly done. Their families were waiting on their tax funded dinner. They wrapped it up fast and bolted for the exits with their Olive Garden bags of dinner for the family. Receipts Video Avila, Video Jones

Meeting adjourned. Transparency denied. Taxpayers deceived.

When the people managing your money can’t tell the truth, can’t balance a budget, and can’t resist pet projects, maybe it’s time for the taxpayers to take the wheel.

Because if this board ran a lemonade stand, they’d probably mortgage the pitcher.