Lone Star status

If you’re registered to vote – and I hope you are – you know what a Voter Registration Certificate looks like; it’s a paper card, wallet-sized (after you cut along the dotted lines), that you carry around so you can show it each time you go to the polls.

At the polling place you must present the card before you get to vote, and before you are given a ballot the card is stamped or otherwise marked to show that you’ve voted. If you’ve lost your card there could be all kinds of bureaucratic shuffles to go
through before you will be allowed to vote.

Just to make sure you haven’t died between elections or moved away, a new card is mailed out every couple of years, and if you skip too many elections you’ll have toregister again.

A polite way of keeping the voting process neat and tidy.

And every couple of years, here lately, the Republicans in the Texas legislature decide that’s not enough. Claiming rampant voter fraud, they introduced legislation in 2005 and 2007 to create a law requiring every voter to produce photo ID in addition to a registration certificate.

The Democrats adamantly oppose such restrictions, arguing that folks who are too old or too poor to drive -- or don’t know how to drive -- are most likely to be without a driver’s license. Coincidentally, these are the kinds of people who tend to vote for Democrats. Interesting.

As is the fact that Republican efforts to pass a voter ID law seem to have picked up as their majority has dwindled.

Here’s what the current issue of Texas Monthly has to say about it all:

For three years during George W. Bush’s presidency (2002 to 2005), the U.S. Justice Department mounted a federal Ballot Access and Voting Integrity Initiative, which found only 38 cases of voter fraud, resulting in only 13 convictions and 11 guilty pleas.

That’s nationwide, my friends. Across 50 states.

And, according to the magazine,

In Texas the pickings were equally slim. Attorney General Greg Abbott received a federal grant to investigate voter fraud and other crimes, resulting in just 30 indictments and 22 prosecutions so far: all reportedly against Democrats, most involving technical violations.

Improperly completed registration forms, transposed numbers, that kind of stuff.

Texas Monthly’s article concludes:

The reason that so little evidence of fraud can be found is simple: There’s no incentive for voter impersonation. The chance to influence the outcome of an election is too small; it would take an enormous number of people, all committing fraud at once, to make a difference.

Well, the legislation has passed through the Texas Senate, where the Republicans have a hefty majority, and is headed for the House, where they outnumber the Democrats by only 76 to 74. Reason may yet prevail.

Or who knows? Maybe they’ll decide to have us voters dip our fingers in purple ink.

Seriously, defeating this legislation is important, I believe, and not least because it brings out the Boston tea-party libertarian streak in me. As in: What!? Yet another layer of law to be imposed on the citizenry?

If you agree, this would be a good time to call Jim Pitts, or send him an email and urge him to vote against the voter ID legislation.

Originally published in Waxahachie Daily Light, March 23, 2009

Rebels with a cause

Political excitement and change are not limited to national politics these days. In our own State of Texas, as the legislature gears up for its biennial assembly, I want to tell you about some very interesting developments over the past year.

In its last session, drama unfolded in the effort to unseat Speaker Craddick, whose tenure had revealed the iron hand of a dictator, not always to the benefit of the people of our State.

For those of us inclined to be riveted by political happenings, it was a feast.

Among the representatives who challenged the Speaker was our own Jim Pitts, who showed himself to be a thoughtful and honorable man, of whom folks in Waxahachie should be proud. Risking his career, perhaps, but definitely risking his appointment to the powerful position of head of the legislature’s Appropriations Committee. That’s because Craddick’s hold on power was in large part due to a penchant for punishing his opponents – by, for example, taking away their appointments.

As reported in the Austin American Statesman, Pitts had “accused Craddick of holding up the appropriations bill — the only piece of legislation that, by law, must pass each session — to cut deals with members and shore up support for his speakership.”

And, according to the Statesman, there were “rumors that a group of lawmakers, including GOP members of Craddick's leadership team, would attempt a coup with a motion to vacate the chair. Complaints have included that Craddick is too autocratic, is losing control of the House and is bending rules to aid allies and punish opponents.”

Indeed, there were attempts to make the motion, but Craddick danced around it; after he replaced the House parliamentarians with one of his cronies, the two of them worked in tandem, literally, to deny every effort to offer the motion.

It was political theater at its best.

There’s a rule, for example, that motions must be offered using the microphone at the back of the assembly room. So the Speaker had that microphone disabled. And then Pitts and some of the other challengers defied him and went to the front microphone.

As the Statesman reported, "My constituents back home want me to do the right thing for Texas," he said. "And that's replacing the speaker."

“For what purpose does the member rise?”

“To offer a motion that the chair be vacated.”

“The member is not recognized for that purpose.”

And so it went on. And on. Craddick’s personal parliamentarian did his job.

I don’t remember exactly how the challengers managed to finally get the motion to a vote, but they did. Yet, even though Jim Pitts was well positioned to become the new Speaker, at the last minute he withdrew from consideration.

Now why on earth would he have done that? Because he knew that anyone who voted for the motion – in other words, any supporter of his – would be punished by Craddick just for supporting the motion if it didn’t pass, and it was too close to call.

Now that’s an honorable man.

Jim was among those punished, of course, and lost his position as head of Appropriations.

Fast forward to this year.

A bipartisan collection of representatives got together, having decided unity was the best weapon, and announced they would all back Joe Straus, Republican from San Antonio, for speaker. His platform included a promise to end partisanship and special favors.

There were more than enough of them, and Tom Craddick withdrew.

Straus is now Speaker, the Texas legislature has returned to relative sanity -- and Jim Pitts has been returned to the chairmanship of the Appropriations Committee.

We have a lot to be grateful for in Jim Pitts, a truly honorable man. And he showed it again last week when he joined a bipartisan group of legislators who are now challenging Governor Perry’s announcement that he will reject stimulus funds intended to allay the rising costs of unemployment in our State.

Perry claims that accepting the funds would commit Texas to greater costs in the future, but happily the legislature can override that silliness. True, they will have to pass conforming laws to do so, but as a sage has pointed out, what the legislature giveth the legislature can taketh away down the road, if it comes to that and we find ourselves in a crunch.

No one knows how the economy will look in two or three years, but there’s nothing to lose by trying, and lots to lose by doing nothing, and Jim Pitts knows that.

A legislator who really works for the people. Imagine that!

Thanks, Jim!

What's wrong with earmarks?

According to the politicians, the American kitchen table is the center of all family decision making, the place where matters of the economy – mortgage payments, medical bills, college tuition, the price of gasoline, and of course grocery and utility bills – are laid out to be dealt with by families feeling the stress.

It’s always stress, of course; have you ever heard about a family sitting around the kitchen table discussing how to spend an inheritance or lotto winnings?

No, it’s always something worrisome. And right now just about everything is worrisome.

While Mom and Dad and the kids are gathered ‘round the kitchen table, lingering over a delicious beef stew to put off as long as possible the after-supper discussion about household bills and how to pay them, we have banks failing, homes going into foreclosure, small businesses closing, the auto industry in a shambles, and folks losing their jobs; there’s also the matter of a couple of unfinished wars, a militant Iran, a pugnacious Russia, and near anarchy south of our border.

So what are the Republicans worried about most? Earmarks. “Pork.”

Terrible, wicked, close to sinful and very, very wrong. At least that’s what they seem to have become over the years; they’ve become almost as bad as taxes, if you listen to Republican rhetoric.

It’s time the American people sit up and think about this.

Earmarks are said to amount to less than two percent of the present budget being considered in Washington, but some members of Congress want to do away with them altogether. Most of those worthies have earmarks of their own in the bill, but those should be kept, of course.

What, exactly, is an earmark? According to the OMB,

At the broadest level, [it] is any additional funding provided by the Congress … for activities/projects/programs not requested by the Administration.

In other words, it gives any member of Congress the opportunity to amend the Administration’s budget to add funding for a specific purpose in his own district; after all, we elect our representatives to work for our State or congressional district, and that’s what he’s doing. Bringing home the bacon. “Pork.”

It’s called democracy, if you ask me. Or do you prefer that the budget submitted by the Administration and all its departments be the be-all and end-all, stop right there?

Earmarks got a bad rap in the past because of outrageous stuff like the “bridge to nowhere,” and earmarks slipped in at the last minute to escape review. And there’s some silly stuff in the current budget. But those things are fixable; getting rid of all of them is like throwing out the baby with the bathwater. Just doesn’t make sense.

If our government is going to assist with, say, the cost of rebuilding a falling-down school in South Carolina or repairing a bridge in Minnesota or rebuilding a portion of I-35, adding it to the current budget will make it happen a lot faster than the two years or so it could take for a bill to work its way through Congress all by itself.

Let’s go back to that kitchen table.

After the dishes are cleared the bills are laid out, and with the help of a small calculator it’s determined that they are going to have to prioritize. There’s not as much to work with since the economy started tanking. So they add up the necessities – mortgage, light bill, gasoline, health insurance, dog food, food.

They can save a little if Dad brown-bags his lunch most days, and new sneakers for the kids can wait another month (if they would just stop growing!). Mom will give up her gym membership for now.

But the car repair can’t wait, so it’s added in. (Earmark!) So are the textbook and school supply costs that are due. (Earmark!) It’s time for the dog’s trip to the vet for annual shots. (Earmark!)

The evening goes on, and money is earmarked for Buddy’s dental work, for Mom’s mammogram, for Sissy’s Girl Scout uniform. Non-essentials, you might think, but they are determined to find the money because these are important to the family. So they earmark part of the family budget for each of these expenses.

They will end up dipping into their savings to get by for now, but they are betting on the economy turning around eventually so they’ll be able to catch up. Meantime, they will get by, with the help of a little earmarking.

Enjoying the moments

Now, things don’t always work out as we expect, let alone as we plan. As a high school senior dreaming of becoming a commercial artist via the opportunities offered in New York City I would never, ever have thought I’d end up selling real estate in Waxahachie, Texas.

You know, or should know, that folks in that bastion of Yankee-ness look askance at living any place west of the Hudson River, let alone south of it, let alone in the storied state of Texas, which they imagine to be all cactus and horses and cows and Stetsons.

Ironically, my first rodeo was at Madison Square Garden – it was, I might add, very well attended by cheering local sophisticates.

I was in my early twenties; I’d never even seen a real cowboy before. Perhaps it was that memory that nudged me toward Texas when the opportunity arose three decades later. Whatever. It turned out to be a great move.

On my way to Texas I lived in San Francisco, married, and raised two children. It was a great time to be there, before the tourists took over; we had easy access to theater and fairs and of course peace marches. And the Salinas Rodeo was only an hour away.

After the kids were grown and on their own, my job with the SSC brought me to Waxahachie and I’ve never left. After the project closed down I did think about going back to California, but decided it was too full and too expensive – and of course you can never find a parking space.

Nor was I willing to give up thunderstorms and lightning bugs, the thrill of seasonal change, or driving 70 miles an hour on the highway. I know you think I-35 has traffic, but believe me, it’s nothing compared to the stop-and-stop on Highway 101.

I settled into a wonderful old house and wished my family were here. I still do, but they were born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, and there they feel at home, so we’ve had to compromise.

Over the past two weeks they’ve both been here to visit – my son and his wife just before my birthday, my daughter and granddaughter just after, a kind of birthday sandwich.

The visits were short, in calendar terms, but intense and very satisfying, as a dark chocolate truffle compares with anything less.

We are a family of foodies, and the visits were all about sharing good food and drink, cooking and eating and retelling old stories, cooking some more, looking through old family photos and sharing new ones.

Which brings me to adventure.

Now, I was somewhat adventurous in my day, with a passion for hot rods in high school; as a young secretary I commuted back and forth to Manhattan on a Vespa, still later commuted to Texas on Amtrak.

You’ll note that my adventures were all earth-bound. Forget about flying. Please.
But somehow the serious adventure gene made it into my granddaughter Sarah’s DNA – aided and abetted by an 18th-birthday gift from her uncle – and so it was that I got to see the video of her sky-diving last summer.

Oh. My. God.



Right here is proof that it’s a good thing Grandma lives 1800 miles away.

She cheerfully boarded the plane, smiled and waved to the photographer, flew up into the sky and, in tandem with her guide, jumped out into space. Laughing delightedly all the way down. It was a soft landing, and she clearly had a great experience.

OK, so it’s in the genes, but it clearly passed me by.

After each of the family visits I was left with a kind of exhilaration, the same kind of euphoria I’d experienced after a trip to Paris a couple of years back. They were so perfect.

If we all lived in the same town, would the visits be so meaningful? Or would we take each other for granted and forget to focus on each other the way we did? When you have precious little time together, time together is precious.

Grandparents take note: Modern life means families are likely to be scattered, but I’ve learned that airplanes (yes!) , and telephones and the Internet and texting can keep them together at will.

And those visits . . . !