If armies of clipboard-toting volunteers haven't been trampling your petunias in an effort to win support for the September sales tax referendum, don't feel bad. You haven't been forgotten. It's just that tax backers are trying to keep a fairly low profile these days, ditching rock star rallies (OK, black church services) in favor of small gatherings of grandmas and elementary school open houses. Otherwise, they might awaken the opposition.

That's the risk they run, at least, anytime somebody jabs a yard sign into the earth or gets on TV to announce their support for higher taxes. Because the oldest political truth in the book has it that people don't like to give away their hard-earned money; if you're gonna ask them for cash, be sure to hit up the right ones. Don't keep reminding the public at-large that you want to raise taxes—otherwise, you're liable to have a late-summer political fight on your hands.

Leaders of Nashville's sales tax campaign want no part of that. Instead, they've formed a strange-bedfellows coalition of unions, public school advocates, senior citizen groups and local bizpigs to rally around Mayor Bill Purcell's Sales Tax for the Young and Old. It's being run right out of the mayor's office and will soon be coming to a school or senior center near you. If you think public schools need more money—or hell, if you're just old and living on a fixed income—then by all means, advocates say, go vote. And be sure to bring a friend.

The coalition calls itself Nashville Tomorrow, and it's pitching the half-cent sales tax increase as a "vote FOR children and seniors." Among its number are the Service Employees International Union Local 205 and the Nashville Area Chamber of Commerce—nontraditional allies, you might say—and the Metro Nashville Education Association, which is currently fighting the school system for a pay raise. To be sure, plenty of people who are publicly endorsing the sales tax hike opposed it when Purcell proposed it back in May. They are, as one parent said, holding their noses and supporting it.

So far, Nashville Tomorrow has done some phone-banking and organized or sent representatives to several community meetings at which the tax proposal was being discussed. It has ordered 2,000 red yard signs that will soon start popping up around town. (As of this writing, at-large Metro Council member Diane Neighbors is the only person known to be displaying a yard sign, although apparently there are others.) Its operational head—not to be confused with mayoral aide Patrick Willard, the man behind the curtain—is Kendell Poole, most recently known for running Daron Hall's successful sheriff's campaign in 2002. "We have to let our supporters know that they're not alone," Poole tells the Scene. He calls a referendum campaign "a strange bird," noting that aversion to higher taxes is opposition enough in an issue campaign. What's more, he says, keeping such a disparate coalition together is challenging, but with little under three weeks until election day (early voting has already started), "we feel good about where we are."

Very little opposition has organized to oppose the sales tax plan; with business folks already on board, it's hard for the anti-tax groups to gain any traction. Attorney Nathan Moore has launched a website called Keep Nashville Growing!, but for now his campaign appears to be little more than a press release. Local Republicans and tax revolt types can largely be found sitting on their hands. At least, we haven't seen any party-penned PowerPoint presentations yet.

If the quiet biz-labor-youth-senior campaign succeeds Sept. 13, it'll be scored as another victory for Purcell, and rightly so. But now more than ever, it's become apparent that the mayor's political machine runs on a polite version of extortion—support this regressive tax or put schools in jeopardy—rather than the mutual back-scratching arrangement that has prevailed, sometimes problematically, for so many years. Union members, schools advocates, council members and pretty much anyone else supporting the sales tax increase all grumble under their breath that they'd rather not be hitching their progressive agenda to a regressive tax, but what choice do they have? They're doing the dirty work—although on this one, at least, Hizzoner has been helping.

No matter what happens to his sales tax proposal, Purcell would be well advised to do some favors for friends and grin-and-bear-it supporters in the coming months. With his eye on a third term and/or higher office, he'll need some of that political capital he's currently spending. As one ally who has carried the mayor's water before said, "Thank-yous never hurt."

Related memo to Metro Election Commission

When you put a link to the "tax relief calculator" on your supposedly nonpartisan website (http://nashville.gov/vote/), it sort of looks like you're shilling for the sales tax.

Commission do-over

The new Metro Homelessness Commission debuted last week without any members among its number who have experienced homelessness, a far cry from the three it's required by law to have. One of the body's first items of business was to discuss homeless or formerly homeless people who could serve on the commission, but it became clear pretty quickly that the mayor had made a mistake by not filling the slots ahead of time himself, like he did with his other appointments to the commission. As homeless activists pointed out when they disrupted and then walked out of the meeting, the homeless weren't being treated as full members of the commission. Instead, they seemed more like afterthoughts.

Hapless Vice Mayor Howard Gentry—who never quite knows what to do when he's caught between his own ethical and political instincts and a sticky situation he didn't devise—eventually called a do-over debut meeting for the commission, which seemed to be the best solution readily available. That afternoon, he went to the Homeless Power Project's weekly meeting and assured them that he would prevent similar oversights from happening in the future. At press time, he was slated to have a Wednesday morning meeting with the mayor to discuss a slate of 11 names—including homeless and formerly homeless advocates Howard Allen, John Zirker, Kevin Barbieux and David "Cowboy" Luttrell—for the three remaining slots on the commission. That should be an interesting conversation.

Meanwhile, at least one of the well intentioned folks already drafted to serve on the Homelessness Commission has some early reservations as he considers what he's gotten himself into. Leonard Bradley, a member of the Social Services Commission that oversees the Homelessness Commission, was reading the fine print and noticed that the new commission functions as an advisory committee without any authority to spend money. Basically, he worried aloud at last week's meeting, we're being held accountable for things we can't control.

He's right. See you at the Metro Homelessness Commission's second first meeting.

Solid wasted?

We hope the Scene's public support wasn't the nail in the coffin for Metro Solid Waste director Chace Anderson, who submitted his resignation to Public Works director Billy Lynch last week. Anderson drew fire—and was publicly contradicted by his boss—for suggesting recently that Nashville residents who couldn't fit all their trash in one 96-gallon bin should compact it by foot in an ill-fated dance move dubbed the "Nashville Two-Stomp." (Hey, at least he tried to make it sellable.)

Speaking of fire, was Anderson fired? Deputy Mayor Bill Phillips, who's known to keep a close administrative eye on Metro departments, says he didn't ask for Anderson's resignation but did inquire as to whether the rumor that Anderson was leaving was true. "I suggested that due to the rapidly spreading rumor, it would be prudent for Mr. Anderson to announce what his plans are," Phillips writes in a prudently worded email. Two weeks ago, both Phillips and Lynch told the Scene that they had confidence in Anderson and weren't asking him to go anywhere (although Phillips conceded that "Chace's strengths are not in public relations"). In any event, he's moving to the West Coast and his resignation will be effective in November, Phillips says. Nashville's trash and recycling programs have improved on his watch, but there's plenty of room for more. Potential applicants should contact Lynch—or better yet, Phillips.

We hope the Scene's public support wasn't the nail in the coffin for Metro Solid Waste director Chace Anderson, who submitted his resignation to Public Works director Billy Lynch last week. Anderson drew fire—and was publicly contradicted by his boss—for suggesting recently that Nashville residents who couldn't fit all their trash in one 96-gallon bin should compact it by foot in an ill-fated dance move dubbed the "Nashville Two-Stomp." (Hey, at least he tried to make it sellable.)

Speaking of fire, was Anderson fired? Deputy Mayor Bill Phillips, who's known to keep a close administrative eye on Metro departments, says he didn't ask for Anderson's resignation but did inquire as to whether the rumor that Anderson was leaving was true. "I suggested that due to the rapidly spreading rumor, it would be prudent for Mr. Anderson to announce what his plans are," Phillips writes in a prudently worded email. Two weeks ago, both Phillips and Lynch told the Scene that they had confidence in Anderson and weren't asking him to go anywhere (although Phillips conceded that "Chace's strengths are not in public relations"). In any event, he's moving to the West Coast and his resignation will be effective in November, Phillips says. Nashville's trash and recycling programs have improved on his watch, but there's plenty of room for more. Potential applicants should contact Lynch—or better yet, Phillips.