12/10/98
mbrown@agate.net
It was kindergarten time at the Maine State House last week.
Preschoolers were shepherded through the routines of what can be
expected of legislators in the coming two years. Seniors, coaches
and teachers were on hand to handle any questions.
Officially it's called a pre-legislative conference, sort of a
welcome to a new family of transient orphans. Retiring school
marm Libby Mitchell was everywhere with a heaping basket of shiny
past favor apples from her admirers. Mitchell term-limited in
style just a week before with a $25-a-plate sit-down luncheon in
the revered Hall of Flags. No charge for the rent of the hall.
Despite rumors spawned, obviously from aborted Republicans,
Mitchell's name will not be added to the Hall's Medal of Honor
plaque. Most of those names are Damn Yankees from the Civil War.
Mitchell is a Rebel.
New legislators received an incomprehensible law lecture from the
dean of the University of Maine Law School, Colleen Khoury, which
was like a U.S. Supreme Court Justice explaining interstate
commerce statutes to a Stonington notary public.
A highlight of the orientation was a mock session in the spanking
new swively stuffed seats and desks, new drape-less windows and
other amenities courtesy of outgoing Libby Mitchell, the
Democrats, Gov. Angus King and all others who stiffed the public
on a no-vote, fixer-upper, multi-million bond.
Incidentally, those old desks and chairs could be purchased at
fire sale prices by former occupants.
New legislators had to suffer through a proletariat box lunch
scrum infiltrated by hand-shaking constitutional officer
candidates. But they made up for it later in the evening with a
sumptuous buffet at the Senator Inn hosted by legislative
leadership. That is, the taxpayers picked up the tab.
The partisan parties held separative dueling caucuses with the
two independents, Sen. Jill Goldthwait and Rep. Belinda Gerry,
meeting God who knows where.
There were workshops on how to be a kind and generous legislator,
filing bills (better hurry bill cloture is in December) library
resources and that the third floor jane and johns only have paper
towels. And legislative leader offices have non-spigotted sweet
bottled water.
After a confusing day of trying to understand legislative ethics,
the whole school recessed and puttered over to the Augusta Civic
Center for a reception/cash bar banquet, hosted by the
legislative council, otherwise known as the Gang of Eight That
Can't Budget Straight.
The main event of Orientation Week was getting the official
sworn-in Old School Jacket, Class of 119th Maine. Presenter was
unenrolled Gov. Angus King which was probably the next to last
time that Republicans would see the re-governor-elect in the next
four years.
The last time was that evening when the Governor and First Lady
hosted a reception at the Blaine House where the Governor and
First Lady don't live but keep it heated for subtle political
fund raisers.
The new folks ritual was more spiffy this year with a
re-upholstered House chamber new speaker's bully pulpit, new age
elevators and invisible glass doors just waiting to give somebody
a very bloody nose.
Although the Mitchell et al fixer-upper, no-vote, multi-million
bond refreshed This Olde House, it forgot to make it fully
handicapped assessable. Whoops. The most public house in Maine in
violation of a disabilities act? It appeared so.
Rep. Bill Schneider (R-Durham) uses a wheelchair. However, it's
impossible for him to reach the House Republican Office without a
lift. The legislative council is working on lift accommodations.
But if Rep. Schneider wants to attend one of the ubiquitous
meetings via the handicapped inaccessible tunnel connector to the
state office building it will instead be a very long and creative
outdoors trip, indeed.
For some strange reasons except pure politics, even bill titles
(and there are reportedly some 2,000 in the hopper) are kept
confidential until just before the session begins in January. No
leaking the ways to tax folks until it's done, probably.
And so with the legislative athletes in their spiffy new team
uniforms - let the two year Tax Olympics begin.