Columnist Jon Ralston: A fitting end to the Session of Nothing

Wednesday, June 6, 2001 | 8:41 a.m.

Jon Ralston hosts the public affairs program "Face to Face" on Las Vegas ONE and also publishes the Ralston Report. His column for the Sun appears on Sundays and Wednesdays. Ralston can be reached at 870-7997 or by e-mail at ralston@vegas.com

CARSON CITY -- No one who was not there will ever be able to fully appreciate it -- the end of the 121-day session as it descended into paralysis, chaos and then travesty.

The surreal spectacle took every shopworn cliche about the Legislature's Rush to Close and set new standards for silliness. All of the usual mewling that takes place by legislators, lobbyists and other observers should now become one long, sustained wail of dismay at this perversion of how the public's business was conducted. Consider just a few of the hackneyed complaints after session's end:

Lobbyists run the place? This session climaxed with lobbyists on the floor, helping craft a list of what bills to pass, mouthing instructions to lawmakers as they debated measures and then sprinting (or lumbering) down the hallway to get their bills to the other house for passage.

Legislating for the chosen few? Who will ever forget the demeaning, sad show of Supreme Court justices and the attorney general traversing the hallways with metaphorical tin cups essentially begging lawmakers (who had provided crumbs for teachers) for a huge salary increase? This after the building's power lobbyists had ensured that the Deregulation for the Chosen Few bill barely was passed (or was it?) under the sine die deadline.

Lawmakers don't even read bills as they careen to finish? Speakers gave perfunctory descriptions of bills and green buttons were rotely pushed as a slew of measures were passed in a frenzy. "I've never seen anything quite like it," was a common refrain in the early hours of Tuesday morning.

It was truly a fitting end to the Session of Nothing, during which legislators did nothing of overwhelming significance and now must return for a special session for nothing -- or surely what the public will consider nothing. Indeed, we now face the prospect of the Jon Porter Special Session, which became necessary only because the state senator and incipient GOP congressional candidate and his supporters would not budge on how to draw the 3rd Congressional District.

So now Gov. Kenny Guinn and the gang must explain to voters why they are doing an encore in the capital to repeat the exercise of protecting themselves politically (reapportionment and redistricting must start anew) and also to raise their own pay and that of other elected officials by large percentages.

This comes after lawmakers demonstrated their resourcefulness by dithering for 120 days just so they could show the public when midnight is not really midnight. Oh, the ploy of extending the session until 1 a.m. when the Constitution says midnight was not surprising to many who were there because rumbles of the maneuver rippled thorough the Legislative Building all day.

But here is what was perhaps most unfathomable about the move, which will result in legal challenges unless they rescind their actions on all bills acted upon after midnight and pass them again at the special session:

The Gang of 63 decided to go until 1 a.m. as the clock tolled midnight, then both houses recessed and did not return until a few minutes before 1 a.m. to rush through a series of bills. What were they thinking? Were they thinking?

It matters little whether Legislative Counsel Brenda Erdoes can ex post facto provide lawmakers cover for stretching one hour past midnight to finish their business because the Constitution says standard time and we are on daylight savings time. (Why would the ballot question that imposed 120-day sessions say standard time unless lawmakers have thought of pulling this stunt for a long time?).

Legislative staffers had warned the Gang of 63 many hours before the deadline that while they may be able to make a case for adding the extra hour, it was not advisable. And at 12:15 a.m. Tuesday, Legislative Counsel Lorne Malkiewich put it starkly: "Everything they do from now until 1 is suspect."

As opposed to what they did for the last four months?

I have argued many times that these folks should be paid more to make the jobs more attractive, to improve the quality of lawmakers. But they sure do make it hard on me -- the argument must be made in the abstract because the real-life examples are counterproductive. And now they have provided the worst argument yet:

Understand why they are returning soon to the state capital -- not for business anyone but they care about, reapportionment and redistricting. They are coming back to ensure they can come back again in 2003, at a higher pay scale.