August 2000

Aug. 31, 2000
(Distributed to Kansas newspapers Aug. 28, 2000)

OK, we can just see the outline of fun times to come, when lobbyists file their first New Age report on entertainment spending on members of the Kansas Legislature.

The report means that there will be by Sept. 10 the first lobbyist spending tally that includes the feared "lobbyist meals" format, the one, recall, that is supposed to keep all Kansas legislators free of any tainting influence of interaction with those dreaded lobbyists. It is supposed to be a comfort to members of the general public who fear that other legislators, not theirs, of course, will be tempted to vote for legislation that is adverse to the interests of their constituents... all because some lobbyist bought them a drink, or took them to lunch.

And one of the apparent keys to determining whether there was adverse influence is the number of legislators who are offered food and drinks at one time.

Call it the "car date" rule for adults. You remember, of course, the litany of instructions that parents decreed when their children were first allowed to take the family car on a real live, boy-and-girl date. Seat belts on, feet flat on the floor, no suggestive talk, no alcohol, no parking, no, well, whatever else is possible to do in a car. And, if that car date turns out to be a double- or triple-date, well, that's even better. It means that there is none of that potentially dangerous one-to-one time.

So, the Kansas lobbying rule now is that if members of the Legislature don't want their name written down on a lobbyist report that will become a public document, and worse yet, a public document portions of which may wind up in an opponent's campaign literature, they have to be invited to an event so large that there is little chance of a one-to-one conversation. And that makes the invitation, and the logical expectations of the invitation, a matter that the Kansas Ethics Commission must fret over just as parents of car date-aged children have to fret.

The minimum size of a legislative car date, one that doesn't require the listing of names, is between 13 and 77. That's a lot of people to pack into one car, and the odd numbers arise because legislators who, under pressure from their local news media last year, determined that something fishy could occur if lobbyists invited less than all members of a political party in either house to a dinner. There are 13 Senate Democrats, on the small end of this enforced morality show, and 77 House Republicans on the big end of this enterprise.

You see, it is presumed that whenever all members of one political party in one chamber of the Legislature are invited to an event, there can't be any undue influence asserted on any one of those members. Oh, and to be sure, if any lobbyist invites all members of a chamber of the Legislature--that's 40 senators or 125 House members--there of course can be no influence peddled between salad and the appearance of the dessert cart.

But... legislators last year apparently recalled their early car date experience. You remember, of course, when you told your parents that you were picking up three other couples, and so, of course, no hanky-panky would be possible in a packed car. And, you probably remember that couples two and three were generally not ready, were sick, or decided not to go to the party by extensive and secretive prior arrangement.

So, the Governmental Ethics Commission has decided that if a lobbyist is going to invite a large enough group not to have to take down names, there has to be a stout and documentable invitation to that large group.

But, tacking down the specifics of that invitation are worrisome. In fact, according to the Ethics Commission, in order to comply with subsection (2) (E) (i) or (2)(E)(ii) of KSA 1999 Supp. 46-269 as amended by 2000 Kan. Sess. Laws 124 section 3 (oh yeah, that!), "The person extending the invitation must provide notification in a manner that ensures that the majority of the invitees receive actual notice--the manner in which the invitation is distributed or communicated to the invitees remains within the discretion of the invitor."

Oh, and the notice must be "sufficiently timely to allow them a real possibility of attending the event." And, of course, "There must be a reasonable likelihood that the majority or a reasonable mix of the invitees will, or reasonably could, attend the event."

Is that clear? The invitation to a group large enough that nobody has to have their name written down by lobbyists falls somewhere between a marriage proposal and a prom date invitation.

We'll see just where this goes. But it has the possibility of rewriting not only legislative lobbying practices, but probably, for careful readers, the conditions under which they are willing to allow their sons and daughters to go on car dates.

Aug. 24, 2000
(Distributed to Kansas newspapers Aug. 21, 2000)

LOS ANGELES--Well, what was touted as the most environmentally friendly Democratic National Convention ended last week with, we were told, absolutely no porpoises killed for food and the only real victims of the horde of delegates and press being expense accounts--slain by $6.50 servings of four chicken wings and $4.50 drinks at the hotel bar.

What was interesting?

Well, there was Hutchinson delegate Ivan Dunn, who on a feel-good night dedicated to remembrance of the Kennedy family, wore a mask that was the likeness of former President John F. Kennedy, and a half-hearted beach ball toss, with too few and too small beach balls being batted by the delegates on the floor of the Staples Center.

What was missing?

Probably for you folks old enough now to own cars that you don't know how fast they will go, the rich and memorable voice of the late former Texas Rep. Barbara Jordan, who spoke so clearly, so simply that one was moved to do whatever she said was right.

What also was missing?

Well, the chance for Kansas to use its minute of national fame during the rollcall of the states, to benefit Kansans who are going to need a lot of help in the next two years...

Yes, Kansas Democratic State Chairman Tom Sawyer announced Kansas' vote of 42 delegates for the nomination of Vice President Al Gore and Sen. Joseph Lieberman of Connecticut, as the Democratic ticket, while soon-to-be out-of-work Secretary of Agriculture Dan Glickman, formerly of Wichita, stood by and soon-to-be Democratic gubernatorial candidate Kathleen Sebelius stood nearby, ready, willing and eager to chime in. We presume that Glickman would have announced his telephone number and willingness to work, and Sebelius the name of her PAC and her willingness to change fields in 2002 from Insurance to whatever it is that a governor does.
***
Real gift of a West Coast convention?

That the sessions are over by 8 p.m. California time, which means that there is time for a half-hour bus ride to somewhere to eat and drink for free for two hours, another half-hour bus ride back to the delegation hotel for a drink before the bar in the lobby closes, and the chance to be in bed by just after midnight... so you arise rested and ready for a free breakfast with the delegation at 8 a.m.
***
The convention itself was like all conventions... hours of boredom listening to Democratic registers of deeds from faraway states during the times that no respectable television network would be broadcasting from the convention anyway, to the roll-the-dice, hope-the-networks-will-stay-tuned speeches that lapped over the allotted 10 p.m. Central Time deadline for the end of convention business so the local news could go on as scheduled.

Only President Bill Clinton seriously overran his time, and the networks stuck with him. The nominee, Gore, ended his speech in time for local news to begin across the two make-it-or-break-it time zones, apparently not willing to gamble whether local news shows in in the Central and Eastern time zones would cut their national feeds and proceed with their own broadcasts.

Oh, the balloon drop at the Democratic National Convention was better than the one at the Republican National Convention in Philadelphia two weeks earlier. And, keeping with the environmentally friendly tone, there wasn't any smoke in the convention arena to soften the glare of hundreds of spotlights.
***
What did Kansans bring home from the convention besides refrigerator magnets, T-shirts, hotel shampoo and firm opinions on the efficacy of pesto to liven bland food?

Down-ticket enthusiasm for county races, for legislative races and for another victory in the 3rd Congressional District where conservative Blue Dog Democrat Dennis Moore, of Olathe, faces Republican State Rep. Phill Kline, R-Shawnee, for a second term in Congress.

And, of course, little chance that Gore can carry Kansas in the Nov. 7 general election... unless he just happens to rescue a child from a burning barn in Trego County.

Aug. 17, 2000
(Distributed to Kansas newspapers Aug. 14, 2000)

LOS ANGELES--Kansas delegates to the Democratic National Convention here were checking out the Pacific Ocean just five blocks from their Marina del Rey hotel over the weekend, and getting revved up for parties and receptions...oh, and the nomination of Vice President Al Gore for president.

The convention process, of course, is not going to make much news, but the LA convention holds the prospect of better parties and more celebrities than Republicans saw in Philadelphia two weeks ago. After all, this is Hollywood, where the movie and television stars live, and where a Lakers game draws more recognizable stars than the whole Republican National Convention.

Even the bus rides to parties here hold surprises for the Kansas delegation. None missed chuckling Sunday evening over the store "Trashy Lingerie," and all were on the lookout for Paula Jones, sighted in the delegation's hotel, though some believe that she's had enough plastic surgery in the years since accusing President Bill Clinton of making untoward advances to her that she could only reliably be identified by DNA testing.

There is more flash here than there was in Philadelphia. More Jaguar convertibles, more Rolls Royces, more in-line skaters, and more mountain bikes. More undistinguished wine, more pesto and more pelicans.

Oh, we mention pelicans only because they appear to be almost turkey-sized, and they are all over the marina, leading Railsters to believe that they must be protected by law... or else they just don't taste good.

The celebrity power of the Kansas delegation to the convention, though, may be a little lower than that of the state's Republican delegation to Philadelphia. Star, of course, is 3rd District U.S. Rep. Dennis Moore, the lone Democrat among the state's congressional delegation. Queen of the hop among Kansas statewide officeholders is Insurance Commissioner Kathleen Sebelius, the only Democrat to hold statewide office, and already making friends that she may need for a race for governor in 2002.
***
But, back to Kansas for a minute, where among Republicans, State Rep. Phill Kline, R-Shawnee, is this week going to meet privately with Gov. Bill Graves to outline what Kline is able or willing to do to attract the hearts, or some more minor organ, of Kansas liberal-to-moderate Republicans to get more than a first-blush by-name endorsement from the governor and his pals. Conservative Kline, recall, won the 3rd Congressional District GOP primary over two moderate Republicans.

The meeting is important, because it shows, to a degree, that while Graves is willing to be nice, he's not going to become a cheerleader for Kline unless Kline makes some move away from his socially conservative Republican base.

Yes, that's the same base that has spawned sharp attacks on the governor for the past six years and which could make Graves' remaining two years in office less comfortable than he would like.

It is that band of conservatives, including this year's primary-pruned crop of GOP candidates, that found the governor busy last week during a rah-rah session for GOP legislative candidates at the Statehouse, and unavailable for rapid-fire photo opportunities with candidates and the governor.

Graves will parcel out those photo endorsements over the next couple months as he becomes familiar with the political leanings of legislative candidates. But at this point, it appears to be a very soft non-endorsement strategy that the governor will work. Nothing flashy, no endorsements of Democrats, of course, but just non-endorsements of some members of his own still-fractured party.

Graves has some luxury of spreading out his non-endorsements among Republican candidates in both the House and Senate, because both chambers contain more Republicans than needed for majorities now, and in fact, too many Republicans. Enough Republicans that members can break like quail on important votes, instead of flying in formation, like, well, geese, we guess.

Aug. 10, 2000
(Distributed to Kansas newspapers Aug. 7, 2000)

The neat thing about national political conventions is that as hip as they try to be–Republicans, for example, were batting around more than a dozen beach balls at one point in Philadelphia last week–they are basically pretty boring shows and the folks who talk from the podium tend to be stiffs.

For example, can you imagine being on national television with an audience of several million, and not announcing that Gervase had been voted off the island, or that the stripper had been voted out of Big Brother House? When several Kansas delegates finally heard that news from the Railster (who got it via cell phone), they took it as the biggest news of the day. Remember, four times more people watched Survivor and Big Brother than tuned in on the Republican National Convention.
***
Every four years, Railsters get a chance to watch both Republicans and Democrats suspend disbelief for a time, and say stuff that is just outright silly.

Say, a very sober GOP vice presidential nominee Dick Cheney going on about how the days are numbered for the regime of President Bill Clinton. Republicans, who apparently forget the two-term limit on presidents, cheered wildly at the prospect that Clinton was going to follow the law, and willingly move out of the White House in January.

Or, how about the professional wrestler “The Rock” announcing that 14 million registered voters are fans of the World Wrestling Federation shows. ...Only Rock got to speak just after the convention opened on a Tuesday evening... when just CNN and C-SPAN were televising the event.

You figure a lot of WWF fans toggle their remote control between WWF and C-SPAN? Hmmm...
***
And Railsters actually don’t have a clue how George W. Bush intends to prove to American voters that the economy would somehow be better if he had been president the last four years.

Just think back about eight years, when his father, George H.W. Bush, was seeking reelection to a second term as president. That Bush was running at a time when the economy was just starting its rocket ride, and he couldn’t even convince Americans that things were getting better.

Now, how in the world does his son intend to prove to voters that things would be even better if a Bush had been president? We just don’t know how.
***
There were some fun moments for Kansans at the Philadelphia convention, though:

• Republican National Committeewoman Mary Alice Lair, of Piqua, received news that she had a 13th grandchild while she was making arrangements for the national convention. He was Michael Lair Aylward, of Chanute, an 8-pound, 8-ouncer with dark hair. Thanks to e-mail photos, she saw
little Mike just a day after his birth...

• A small staff worked to think up a really memorable announcement that Gov. Bill Graves would use to relay that, naturally, all 35 Kansas delegates were going to George W. Bush. They actually had a pretty good speech worked up, ending with “Kansans Stand and Deliver 35 votes for..” But the delivery was, well, like the governor had just been informed that a flat tire could be repaired, not requiring a replacement. That dull. Luckily, it wasn’t in prime time, and not many people saw it.

• Oh, and of course, Kansas delegates from all reaches of the state were mesmerized watching the progress of 3rd Congressional District GOP nomination winner Phill Kline, Shawnee, trying to make his way to Philadelphia on the day after his primary election victory. He got a late start, flew to Detroit, waited while his cell phone battery ran down, flew to Allentown, Pa., and then drove into Philadelphia. It was almost a situation comedy, except that every minute Kline wasn’t in Philadelphia, people who could give his campaign thousands of dollars weren’t meeting him and writing him checks.
***
As soon as the Railster's shirts get back from the laundry, he heads out to Los Angeles to what is supposed to be the "most environmentally friendly Democratic National Convention ever." Guess that means we're not supposed to enter the ocean with suntan lotion on or some such...

Aug. 3, 2000
(Distributed to Kansas newspapers July 31, 2000)

PHILADELPHIA--Well, in this city where even extra starch can't make a shirt last more than half a day, and where taxicab air conditioning controls apparently include a "barely" setting, there was as suspected very little in the way of news going on over the weekend.

That's exactly what the $199-a-night hotel room crowd likes, and that's what they are getting, at least as the Republican National Convention gets under way here.

But there are some fun times being provided by people from everywhere else than Kansas that are, for Railsters, the real fun of Republican and Democratic national conventions.

They are the protests.

And, on Sunday in downtown Philadelphia, a mere $20 cab ride from the Kansas delegation's digs at the Airport Marriott, where, surprisingly, you don't hear airplane noise as long as you are indoors, there was a decent little protest going on.

It was almost like the '60s. There were protests against the military industrial complex. Only nowadays, it is two separate themes. One is, of course, Star Wars and bullets, the general job description of the military which, as we recall, probably makes good sense. And the other is the "U.S. Army School of the Americas," which protesters dub the "school of assassins." Something about the U.S. Army training soldiers for other countries at Ft. Benning Ga., where there is another little protest planned, in case you missed it at either Philly or in two weeks at Los Angeles for the Democrats. And Railsters would guess that there will be less politeness demonstrated there than in the City of Brotherly Love.

What else is up? Oh, the death penalty, of course, and protesters here had the advantage of an issue that lends itself to simple-to-join chants. It also didn't require a geography lesson for bystanders. Now, whether you like or don't like the death penalty, there is something joinable about a rhythmic chant, "George Bush, you can't hide, we charge you with homicide!"

Oh, and I don't know whether the guys wearing "soy milk" T-shirts were for or against anything in particular, or just got a good deal on T-shirts somewhere.

There were, though, harkening back to the 1960s, many young women with hairy legs and no bras who were against things. That is a staple of the protest movement, they and the skinny-legged, generally pale guys, who protest along with them.

In fact, most of the protesters on Sunday, except the boys and girls carrying signs saying "Hey hey, ho ho, IRS has got to go," looked a little like remaining Survivor contestants.
***
Four dare-devils: Ever get out of tow, away from home, and do something that, well, you might not do at home? Easy, there, we don't need to know that much....

Well, at a reception for Republican delegates to the National Convention, the Kansas Crew was taken to a children's museum for a buffet and drinks, and Kansans spent quite a time eyeing the "skybike." That's a bicycle affixed to a tightrope high above the floor, on which the brave can ride out above the crowd, backward, then forward, in relative safety. At least, it looks relatively safe, and the counterweight that holds the rider firmly upright almost fades from view.

This being a children's science museum, there's a lesson in physics to be learned here. But for Kansas Republicans who are pretty conservative as a group, it was intriguing to see who went three stories above the floor of the atrium, physics or not, to ride that skybike.

OK, here they are: Senate Majority Leader Tim Emert, R-Independence, who got special permission to carry with him a sunflower-painted parasol. He used it ostensibly for balance, but the generally serious senator put us in mind of Charlie Chaplin high in the air.

Who else? Well, Bob Morrison, Hutchinson, who is retired and married to Wanda Morrison, who four years ago left the State Board of Education feet-first--by not seeking reelection.

Also participating, Johnson County industrialist Steve Cloud, Lenexa, and Frank Spangler of Newton, the fearless Harvey County GOP chairman.

Their rides were safe, if daring, and this might be the single thing that happens in a museum of science that you can actually test them on.

Because they were busting proud.
***
Lots of history here, but the beautiful and ornate Philadelphia City Hall? Oh, come on. It has air conditioners hanging out half the windows.

About 30 years ago there were air conditioners hanging out of windows at the Kansas Statehouse and they are now gone. Maybe some Philadelphians ought to visit Topeka to learn how that's done.