"That's selective enforcement," responds Wayne Kaplan, another AMA representative. "What the city is basically saying is, 'Look, we only want to go after the really bad guys--you guys are fine.' Well, we think that's a very sloppy way to go about it."
About the only thing that will satisfy the AMA, Rees says, is a grandfather clause barring the city from applying the code retroactively.
Code backers have said that such a change will effectively gut the ordinance.
Located just a mile east of the ASU campus, the Fiesta Park Apartments are a world away from the new vision taking shape along Mill Avenue.
Rents in the late-'60s-vintage complex average around $500 a month for a two-bedroom apartment--among the lowest in Tempe. Not surprisingly, many of the property's tenants are working-class, do not speak English and do not stay for more than a few months at a time.
Nine years ago, Ken Volk moved into Fiesta Park from upstate New York. He has not budged since.
Fiesta Park "was a garden back then," Volk remembers.
But all that changed five years ago, shortly after the apartment's owner brought in new managers, Volk says. First, the landscaping began to die off. Next, Volk says, maintenance at the 60-unit complex began to slide.
A spry, petite man with elfin features and boundless energy, Volk radiates empathy in a sort of 12-Step, Stuart Smalleyesque way.
"You are a nice person," the message on his answering machine intones. "I am fine, too. Ultimately, life is full of goodness. I love you. Please leave a message of warm and friendly thoughts. Goodbye."
There is a side to Volk, however, that is not full of goodness--at least, not to the landlords whom Volk thinks are preying on their tenants. One of those is George Clancy, who owns Fiesta Park along with more than 2,000 other units throughout the Valley.
Volk says when he saw that tenants' concerns were going unheeded, he started to organize, going door to door at Fiesta Park and eventually convincing more than a dozen tenants in the 60-unit complex to join an ad hoc tenants' association.
Shortly afterward, Clancy gave Volk 30 days' notice that he was being evicted. Volk fought back and defeated the eviction.
Today, out of a small donated office in the back corner of a Phoenix neighborhood-center building just west of Sky Harbor International Airport on 16th Street, Volk heads the Arizona Tenants' Association, an organization of "around 300" members that subsists solely on the $25 fee it charges for its services.
In addition to helping stymie scores of evictions across the Valley and forcing reluctant landlords to make repairs to their properties, Volk has managed to cultivate strong backers at Tempe City Hall who have repeatedly held up Fiesta Park as an example of why the city needs the code.
Like Bill Butler, Volk sat on the committee which helped create the code. He describes the AMA as "the sleaziest lobbyists in Arizona," and did just about everything in his power to thwart them as the election neared. In fact, five of the disqualified arguments Tuffli uncovered came from Volk's fax machine.
Of Tuffli's victory, Volk says, "It just goes to show that any kook with a few bucks behind him can screw things up."
The code's future now rests largely in the hands of two men: neighborhood activist John "Hut" Hutson and AMA landlord John Bebbling, who have been tapped by the city to negotiate a truce.
Just about everyone hails the two as good representatives of their respective interests.
Volk describes the coming negotiations between Hutson and Bebbling as "a collision between matter and antimatter."
"We'll have to wait to see if the code survives," Volk says.
As for Fritz Tuffli, you might think he would finally enjoy some small measure of contentment now that he has managed to defeat the city in court and derail an election.
You would be wrong.
First, he says, he has been snubbed in all of the news reports that have come out since Judge Myers' ruling against Tempe.
"You'd think they'd mention the one person who was responsible for making it [the ruling] actually happen," he says.
Then, there's this: Tuffli actually wants the election to take place because, he says, the code would lose and "the matter would be settled for good."
"The Rental Housing Code was brought to a vote by the people, not by the city," he says. "Now all the city's saying is, 'Hey, since the judge says we can't rig the election for the outcome we want, we don't want the election anymore.'"
He may have a point, but it may prove moot now that everyone except him has embraced the art of compromise.
"After they voted to kill the code, [Tempe Mayor Neil] Giuliano said he had spoken to both sides, and that everyone had agreed to sit down and work things out," Tuffli says. "Well, they never called me.
