Good grief.
Imagine a ballet wherein the dancers wear combat boots. With rubber overshoes on them. The old fashion galoshes, with metal clasps on them. And maneuver on crutches. Blindfolded.
To say the members of the newly formed (count ’em, the fourth in recent years) Tax Reform Commission got off to a clunky beginning earlier in the week would be charitable.
The Associated Press’s Bob Lewis, first into print, reported that all the players tried mightily, gamely, to make a case that the initial ‘this-is-not-a-meeting’ meeting Thursday at the Executive Mansion could, and should, be closed -- to the press, to the public, to the taxpayers, to the interest groups, to … you get the picture.
And then the fur flew. As well it should have.
Everybody but the bag boys at Ukrops objected.
The American Civil Liberties Union threatened suit. The Virginia Capitol Correspondents Association fired off a letter. The General Assembly’s own Freedom of Information Advisory Council read the law to the lawmakers. Of course, Virginia Attorney General Jerry W. Kilgore intoned from his perch. (The kid doesn’t miss a trick.) And House Speaker William J. Howell took the high -- and absolutely correct -- road, reminding everyone that the public’s business should be done in public.
And so it came to pass.
You have to wonder, though, what Howell’s glee index reading must have been when he issued his scolding, tripping the trap door under, not just Warner, but one or two of his senior troops as well.
Harrumphed the Speaker: "I welcome public involvement and public accountability. We should trust the people. After all, they are the ones whose taxes pay government’s bills.”
And this: "If the governor will engage now and speak candidly about what he recommends and what he will support, we will meet him in good faith, have an open dialogue on points of disagreement, and seek common ground for genuine reform.”
(Translation: The fire is hot. The pot is on. The water is boiling. Time for you to climb in.)
Parrish, in particular, a gentle man, and a statesman, backpedaled with something that didn’t quite resemble grace. Backpedaling clearly comes wrong-handed to Harry.
How the lame idea of closing the proceedings took root to begin with remains of a mystery, though Parrish, Hanger and company continued to make feeble pitches for a day or two, until that, too, shifted, then dribbled off into wan cheeriness.
Warner’s spokespersons -- Qualls and sidekick Kevin Hall, who frequently are forced to make ‘pretty’ (in this case, they’re the ones who had to put the lipstick on the hog) -- said the request originated with the legislative members.
Probably. Maybe so
One thing is certain: just when it seems like Warner has finally, hopefully, possibly run out of bad advice -- gee, he gets his part of it, in spades -- a new containerized cargo ship of it somehow arrives out of nowhere, fully loaded, just in the nick of time.
Yes, the issue is out of the gates. Not in a clean, inspiring, throat-catching sprint, not in a dash, but in a painful stumble. How far is the finish line? Farther than you can see. What’s it look like?
Bob Gibson, of the Daily Progress, caught it Wednesday, quoting Sen. Hanger. Said the good senator, candidly: "It’s not going to pass unless it’s a Republican plan anyway.”
Copyright 2003