Once upon a time, there was a farmer. This farmer had a yard full of prime chickens that he was going to sell to put his kids through school. One day, he went out to the chicken yard to find it deserted. There were feathers everywhere and a trail of blood leading to the back of the yard. He followed the trail and found a weasel and a rattlesnake at the end. Both of them had bloated bellies, feathers on their faces and blood on their lips. The farmer snatched both of them up and demanded an explanation. “It wasn’t my fault!” said the white-haired weasel. “The rattlesnake made me do it! I told him that there was bound to be another chicken yard we could raid, but no! He HAD to raid this one. Can’t you see I had no choice!” The rattlesnake was not amused. “I did what I had to do. Those chickens were a threat to my livelihood (burp). Besides, you could have stood up to me, you big weenie. It wasn’t like I put a gun to your head and forced you to do it.” So the farmer left both of them alone to bicker over who was to blame, packed up his things, and moved to a weasel- and snake-free state. His kids went to fine schools and they all lived happily ever after, except the snake and the weasel-they starved after all of the other farmers left.
OK, let me explain this little allegory. The farmer represents the Mississippi taxpayers. The chickens represent the state’s education budget. The weasel is our own ferrety-looking governor, Ronnie Musgrove. Last but not least, the rattlesnake represents our hallowed Legislature.
Musgrove, who was put into office by the Mississippi House of Representatives, has spent the greater part of his administration covering his butt either by appointing former governor William Winter to take his abuse for him over the flag decision or by blaming the Legislature and the recession for cuts that he has made in education. The “white-haired weasel” has been dodging responsibility ever since he took the oath of office. He’s like a miniature version of Bill Clinton, only without the ability to feed you a line of complete horse manure and make you think it’s filet mignon. Then, there’s our Legislature. Yes, the hallowed group of intellects and sages who were recently debating the ever-so-important, hot-button issue of what the state’s official toy should be! No, I’m not kidding. I wish I were. Not all legislators are clowns, but I believe there are enough to make it necessary to put a Ringling Brothers Big Top over the rotunda of the Capitol building. These legislators get $85 per day to cover travel expenses. One legislator has collected over $5,700 to cover his travel expenses, and he lives 17 miles from the Capitol, eats at home and sleeps in his own bed. Want to know how these legislators defend their actions? As one representative says, “I’m just using a law that’s already on the books.” So their defense is they’re not doing anything illegal. This is the group that cut the operating budget of every state agency except their own. So, kids are going to school in crowded classrooms, teachers are having to buy their own classroom supplies, schools are having to ration paper and these guys don’t think they’re doing anything wrong. But thank God we have an official toy.
As I have talked to people about this, the obvious question is “what should we do?” First and foremost, people should be active in the political process. Vote, and vote often. I also think that little tweaks to the system might also be necessary. For example, I think instead of electing one governor every four years, we should elect a starter and four or five relievers. If the starter works out and does a good job, he or she can serve all four years. If they should become an embarrassment or be ineffective, we can bring up a reliever from the gubernatorial bullpen. Somebody to finish out the term. We can call it the “baseball-igarchy” or the “Ron Polk-ocracy.” As far as the Legislature is concerned, we make a rule that their operating budget has to equal the education budget. If they get $85 a day in expenses, so do the teachers and everybody who works for a state-supported school. Then we make another rule: Every legislative or gubernatorial pay raise is subject to approval by a popular election. Then we’ll see how many go to work for us instead of themselves knowing that we can determine their salary.