January 2002

Jan. 31, 2002
(Distributed to Kansas newspapers Jan. 28, 2002)

A true puzzler

Under extreme financial pressure, the Kansas Legislature is considering doing something that is either very wrong...or not.

And for the first time in a quarter century of memory, the information isn't there, or isn't being believed, to let legislators know the difference.

Here's the puzzler: The Legislature is considering a recision bill, one that cuts spending already approved for the current fiscal year that extends to June 30. It's not popular to cut spending already promised to state agencies, and that's one reason that Gov. Bill Graves isn't in favor of passage of a recision bill.

But within the bill, there is a choice that legislators rarely have to make: to cut money going to K-12 education, or to cut money for social programs that impact directly a large number of Kansas' poor.

And nobody, of course, wants to cut spending on elementary and secondary education. Its the state's future. It's the mortgage payment, it's the first thing that the Legislature and most of the public believe ought to be paid for in adequate amounts.

So K-12 education is "held harmless" by the Legislature. That means no adjustment of school budgets downward during the current fiscal year. That's what the lobbyists for schools and teachers all demanded, and it appears that they are going to get it.

But what's on the other end of the balance beam? It's old people and poor people and their children, from health care to meals on wheels delivered to shut-ins to someone to help the elderly get from their beds to the bathroom and dressed for the day.

That is really serious stuff. Is the Legislature making a tradeoff between some uncomfortable budget maneuvering on the part of school districts in the last part of the fiscal year or services that keep the poor and their children and the old alive, or at least in relatively good condition? That's not a decision that many Kansans are willing to make. Or have their legislators make on their behalf.

What's the breakdown here? It's apparently two things: school lobbyists and patrons make a very good, very strong case for their budgets. And the people making the case for not cutting spending on social programs are either not represented, represented by lobbyists whom legislators manage to ignore, or are represented by the secretaries of state agencies that deal with the old and poor.

The cabinet secretaries for Social and Rehabilitation Services and the Department of Aging have told legislators that cuts in this year's budget are going to cause people to lose health care, support care, and as many as 1 million meals-on-wheels between now and June 30.

And the cabinet secretaries, who work for the governor who, remember, doesn't want a recision bill passed, are apparently not being believed. Maybe the're putting together the worst-case plan, which of course is understandable if you don't want a recision bill to pass. But there's a lack of confidence in there that is troubling.

So, does the Legislature do something wrong...or not? We'll have to watch this one.

***

You've been reading the parking stories from Topeka; that if you come to Topeka to watch the Legislature, be prepared for no place to park, for a long walk, for diminished public access, all the stuff you hate to read about the seat of state government.

Well, it's getting better.

A bunch of local Topeka agencies, some lobbyists who really don't need a lot of civilians wandering the Statehouse halls getting in their way, and the contractors who are causing all the parking space losses and general inconvenience that goes along with a major renovation project have chipped in to see whether a shuttle bus from a little-used parking lot down by the river to the Statehouse will free up access to state government.

The parking lot is at 1st and Harrison in Topeka, and the buses will run every 15 to 20 minutes from there to the Statehouse--and back!--from 7:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. when the Legislature is meeting. Will it help? Probably. Did it absolutely, positively have to be done? No.

For the heat that lobbyists take, it's nice to see them do something that most Kansans wouldn't have expected them to do.

Jan. 24, 2002
(Distributed to Kansas newspapers Jan. 21, 2002)

Choosing the haircut

Quickly now, this is a timed test.

Who so far in the 2002 legislative session has proposed the sharpest reduction in spending on elementary and secondary schools?

Those wild and crazy budget-cutters from the fiscally conservative side of the Statehouse rotunda?

The flat-earth society folks who are proposing that government shrink in its size and scope so that, someday, we'll be running Kansas out of a double-wide trailer?

Both good guesses. But the answer is Gov. Bill Graves.

Graves said he doesn't like his proposal, which would cut about $158 per pupil from state aid payments to school districts. He said he likely would veto that plan if the Legislature passed it. But as the budget debate gathers steam, it's probably a good thing to remember that it was Graves who sent school superintendents to the window ledges in horror, and nobody else.

Who defused the school frenzy? Probably the best allocation of credit goes to Senate President Dave Kerr, R-Hutchinson, and sidekick Sen. Steve Morris, R-Hugoton, who happens to be the chairman of the Senate Ways and Means (that's budget-writing) committee.

Now, they didn't pick up a lot of friends with their budget plan that chops state aid to K-12 by just $39 a pupil, but at least they brought the school superintendents off the window ledges and back inside. And while nobody wants to cut funds to elementary and secondary education, given your choice of a $158 haircut and a $39 haircut, which do you choose?

Right.

Early in this battle it appears that Graves and Kerr/Morris are appealing to two different audiences, which complicates figuring out what's going to happen sometime this spring when the Legislature finally adjourns.

Graves' strategy appears to be simply to spook the reporters and their editors, who influence the public to some degree. Nary a press conference dealing with the budget has occurred yet without some reporter posing the question "how do you deal with the financial crisis in the state without reducing spending on public education?"

Railsters haven't seen the question posed yet about whether some small reduction, or even holding spending steady, for one year would cause the enterprise of public education to evaporate, children to wander the streets, or school administrators and teachers to start foraging for food.

Kerr and Morris are saying, like the governor, they aren't enthusiastic about reducing spending on public education. But they have a business to run here, and they know that many of their fellow legislators are going to be running for reelection and that raising taxes isn't generally considered an attractive platform from which to leap into the mosh pit of Kansas voters.

They are pitching their program to legislators, indicating that it's possible to get through these financially tough times without a tax increase and still keep government afloat.

Practically, Kerr and Morris set up the possibility that for far less than the $91 million that Graves wants to "restore" to K-12 education from the $158 per pupil cut that only he has proposed (and then, of course, scorned) their budget plan will make holding public school spending at current levels far cheaper.

Hmmm...how much cheaper? Well, figure most of that quarter-cent sales tax increase that the governor is proposing.

Who's on the high ground so far? For the general public, probably the governor, because, well, he's the governor, and when he has a little free time in the afternoon, he can summon the press to hear his latest idea. But inside the Statehouse walls, experienced legislative observers probably would call the debate about even, because it is legislators, and not the public, who do the voting here.

Has anyone figured out what's the right thing to do for public education yet? Of course not, that's why the Legislature has a dozen, maybe 13 or 14 more weeks to work on a solution.

It's not going to be pretty, and it's not going to be done without a lot of political blood being shed, but Railsters are guessing that public schools by the end of the session may wind up with the same amount of state aid next year that they've gotten this year.

But it isn't going to be fun getting there.

Jan. 17, 2002
(Distributed to Kansas newspapers Jan. 14, 2002)

They've kissed and made up

Republicans got bad news last week when they sifted through the ankle-deep stack of campaign finance reports filed by candidates for major statewide offices. And they got some surprises, too.

The bad news? Organized labor has kissed--or at least written checks to--and made up with Insurance Commissioner Kathleen Sebelius, the most likely Democratic candidate for governor in this election year.

The surprises? Well, probably foremost, that labor unions didn't contribute a nickel to the campaign of conservative-trying-to-edge mainstream Republican State Treasurer Tim Shallenburger, who is in the GOP primary.

And, another of those little surprises that doesn't pop up until the end of Attorney General Carla Stovall's gubernatorial campaign finance report is that a tobacco company kicked in $500 to her effort.

The labor news?

For the past year, Railsters have been buzzing about the real question in the upcoming gubernatorial election: Where is organized labor going to be?

The question is one that shouldn't even have been a question at all. Organized labor in Kansas, maybe 60,000 strong, but with clout beyond their mere numbers because of family, friends and, oh, yes, their union checkbooks.

Most Republicans assumed that the unions' political action committee checks came pre-printed with the names of Democratic candidates for nearly everything.

But there was that glimmer of hope in even the flintiest of Republican hearts, those little two-valvers that are issued to the farthest-right of conservatives, that organized labor might sit on its money in the gubernatorial race this session. The reason: Sebelius backed a candidate for Democratic state chairman last year who is a partner in a law firm that had advised employers on how to avoid unionization of their employees.

That scuffle over the state party's leadership put a real damper on the annual Democratic political festival, Washington Days Weekend, in February of 2001.

Organized labor won that battle. Labor-friendly Tom Sawyer of Wichita was reelected state party chairman. Sebelius was widely criticized by unions and when the dust settled and union reps got into their cars for the drive home, they were convinced that Sebelius was an enemy and that they wouldn't be spending any of their political action money on her campaign.

The cold shoulder continued through the summer and then, in early September, Sebelius booked her first union campaign contribution. And then a few more, and by Dec. 31, she had received more than $40,000 in contributions from unions.
...And Republican Shallenburger, long a favorite of unions because his father was a union organizer, got nothing from organized labor to show on his campaign finance report.

Oh, and of course, neither did Shallenburger's chief rival at this point, Carla Stovall.

There was a surprise, of sorts, in Stovall's check from R .J. Reynolds, after she whipped the tobacco industry, or, at least hired her friends to join in the whipping of the tobacco industry in the national tobacco case.

And there was also a little surprise buried in the report when Blue Cross-Blue Shield, on behalf of its member-policyholders, we guess, chipped in $500 for Stovall. The surprise is that there are many at the state's dominant health insurance company who still blame Stovall for turning it into bait, not the fisherman, for other insurance companies. She delayed the merger of Kansas' Blues with Missouri's Blues, creating a failure-to-thrive scenario here.

There are a couple other surprises in those campaign finance reports, which at this point of the election cycle aren't just report cards on popularity, but a barometer of how serious candidates are about their races.

How serious is State Sen. Lynn Jenkins, R-Topeka, about winning the job of state treasurer? Serious enough to roll not only her $46,500 Jenkins for Senate committee bankroll into an account for state treasurer, but to chuck $80,000 of her own money into the enterprise.

Jenkins now has on hand an impressive $162,606 for her campaign. That's just about $20,000 less than State Treasurer Tim Shallenburger raised and spent for his entire treasurer campaign. He didn't have a fraction of that amount the year before the election.

So is Jenkins "buying" the race? Nope, but she's sending out an important signal: she is the big dog in this race, and so far, everyone else talking about growing up to be state treasurer is just barking from the porch.

Jan. 10, 2002
(Distributed to Kansas newspapers Jan. 7, 2002)
The coffee shop with the best donuts

The north lawn of the Statehouse is all torn up with holes more than 20 feet deep, chain link fence surrounds much of the Capitol, and legislators who considered exiting their cars within feet of the Statehouse doors one of the perks of their jobs are relegated to parking on the street.

It's time for the Kansas Legislature to meet for its 2002 session.

So, it's time to let you know where much of the news at the Statehouse will be breaking out during the next four months. It's a place you'll seldom read about in the papers, or see on TV. It's the place that you can go for the hottest inside-the-ballpark news that impacts the quirky, jargon-riddled, tradition-bound, rumor-driven enterprise that is the Kansas Legislature.

You won't be reading much about the Rail, which is a pity, because the third floor rail around the atrium is still where the first heads-up about legislative activity and the cut and thrust of legislative testimony are threshed out. If the Statehouse was a small town, the Rail would be the coffee shop with the best donuts.

The Rail, we Railsters believe, probably was put up shortly after several legislators who were walking from the House chamber to the Senate chamber fell into the hole that is the atrium, and in order to maintain a quorum to do business, someone decided a fence around the hole would be prudent.

And ever since then, the fence with its broad brass topping just wide and flat enough for a practiced, carefully balanced coffee cup, polished for decades by the elbows of legislators, lobbyists, sightseers and reporters, has been the place where legislators conferred informally with one another.

The Rail is where lobbyists have the best chance of catching a legislator on the way in and out of their chambers, and where lobbyists, agency chiefs, legislative staffers and such gather for conversations about what's going on that day.

It's the place where a keen observer can note that a committee chairman is spending a lot of time talking with the lobbyist for tobacco, or power plants or doctors or unions, and figure out that something's up. It's the most public part of the Statehouse, and it is the place where all stories eventually get told.

Did a lobbyist strike out in testimony before a committee? Make a joke that was especially timely and well-placed? Have to admit he or she didn't have a clue how those R-rated movies make their way out the end of the cable TV wire? It'll be talked about at the Rail within minutes of the end of the committee hearing.

The Rail is also the place that national news enters the Statehouse, which during most of the working day, is really isolated from events around the world, around the country, even outside the doors of the Statehouse. See, there are a lot of televisions in the Statehouse, and a lot of computers with Internet connections, but little time to watch them. And the people with time to watch for news generally know that they have to tell just two or three people at the Rail, and the news can be all over the Statehouse in minutes.

For most purposes, unless you really have to watch a committee hearing to pick up testimony, the Rail is the best place to be in the Statehouse. And, it doesn't hurt that the Rail is visible from almost everywhere in the Statehouse, and from the Rail, you can see who is going where...most importantly, who is heading toward the governor's office.

...Except, of course when legislators are heading into their chambers for session, off-limits to lobbyists and most folk except for legislative staffers, state agency lobbyists, reporters and official visitors.

Then, the best place to be is just as you'd suspect...between the Rail and the door to the legislative chambers, where mostly boy lobbyists line up like they are hoping to be picked for a Sadie Hawkins Day dance. "Just one thought...," they'll say, or "I can explain more at dinner, but here's what a yes vote means," or "And here's this amendment that would solve the problem with that bill..."

The Rail is the first place that reports of successes and defeats before committees and in the House and Senate chambers are delivered to people who have to know minute-by-minute what's going on in order to figure out whether there has been a subtle change in the legislative landscape that affects their own issues. Dental coverage cut from a welfare program? Bad news, except if you're lobbying for expanded mental health services for the destitute. Does a committee vote to allow a fee increase for the licensure of podiatrists? Time to get to some legislators to explain how that translates into hobbled constituents.

We're just a few days from all the excitement, all the rumors, some of the facts, the normal and surprising reactions in the cauldron that is the Kansas Legislature.

Soup's on.

Jan. 3, 2002
(Distributed to Kansas newspapers Dec. 31, 2001)

Making the joint a palace again

There's already what the weather people call "ground clutter" over the renovation of the Kansas Statehouse, its cost and its inconvenience, but it looks like the $135 million project is now just far enough under way that protestations about its expense may fall away even in a tight-budget session.

The chief objection this session will, of course, be the expense, which will be paid for immediately with bonds and those bonds paid off through interest earned on some unclaimed property that the State Treasurer holds.

But the size of the project and its expected 8-year length make it a sitting target for every agency and every interest group in the state in a year when times are bad for the State General Fund.

That's why an irrevocable start before the Legislature arrives back in Topeka for the 2002 session is so important. Felling trees and digging holes has to be well under way before the Legislature gets organized enough to stop it.

The construction starts with tearing up the north yard of the Statehouse for a 500-plus stall, two-level underground parking garage. And, canny construction planning meant that the major job of foresting the shady north side of the Statehouse started on a day when wind chills were in single digits, discouraging tree-huggers who may have found their way through the chain link fence that has been erected around the construction zone.

Once all the trees are gone, and by mid-January when contractors start what is being called the "big dig" on the lawn, it appears that the project will be so messy, so inconvenient, and so irreparable, that there is really nothing to be gained by bills that would stop the job.

The parking garage is a $15 million project, and there's another $40 million sitting around for work on the Statehouse itself that could presumably be halted by legislation. But it would be difficult.

A neat tactical move for the project is that the Senate wing of the Statehouse is going to be refurbished first. That should put a stopper on House members who complain about the elaborate project and its cost...because the Senate side is going to be done, and the House side of the Statehouse is going to want its digs refurbished to match the style of the Senate side.

And, even if the House could muster the votes to stop the Statehouse restoration--the parking garage is a separate deal--is anyone out there betting that the Senate will want to delay a project that will make its digs a showplace for the state and nation?

We thought not.

Even in a tough fiscal year, Gov. Bill Graves admits that there may be lawmakers who want to stop the project in favor of spending money on other things. But he's against that.

Outside of the Statehouse community, and it's a community even within Topeka, there are probably some Kansans who are wondering whether this is the time to be embarking on a massive renovation project.

Practically, there's probably never a good time to start a big spend. If the state was flush with money, the priority of many Kansans would be to enhance state programs such as education and take better care of the poor and the sick. And in bad economic times, the same priorities are probably widely held.

But the key to the Statehouse restoration is that it is a long-term project, with no immediate cost to the state budget. And, if the renovation weren't under way in a fixup that is going to have lasting results, would Kansas legislators vote to issue bonds to be paid over 30 years to give Kansas schoolteachers a one-year pay raise? Not likely.

It's going to take some explaining by some out-state legislators to their constituents about why the restoration is important to the state. The answer is probably that now, even in its relatively run-down condition, the Statehouse still knocks out children who come to Topeka. There's just something about staring up into the dome that excites a 5- or 10-year-old almost as much as an amusement park ride. There's just nothing else like it in Kansas.

And count on some candidates for the House of Representatives this summer poking fun at the $135 million project. Is this a project over which an election will be lost? Probably not, but it may provide some uncomfortable minutes for an incumbent who may just be hoping to be reelected enough times to actually work in the fully refurbished building.

Betting within the Statehouse is that, yes, it is going to cost a lot of money to make the joint a palace again. And there's been a lot of technology uncomfortably stuffed into the Statehouse in the last few decades. But once put right, shined up, replumbed, heated, air-conditioned, wired, and made accessible to all Kansans, it's going to be worthwhile...if not a bargain.