Columnist Jon Ralston: Carson City now on Guinn Standard Time

Wednesday, June 13, 2001 | 9:27 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 through e-mail at ralston@vegas.com

THE PHONE conversation must have gone something like this:

Gov. Kenny Guinn: "Hey, Frankie Sue, can you give me an opinion saying I can pretty much do whatever I want to do in calling that special session, including telling those morons how long they can stay and what they can talk about?"

Attorney General Frankie Sue Del Papa: "Sure thing, governor. By the way, think you can include that pay raise for me in the bills they can consider?"

Well, maybe not exactly like that.

But the 13-page opinion released Tuesday afternoon by Assistant Attorney General Thomas Patton reaffirms that this is a state where gubernatorial power is all but absolute. And it ensures the governor can set the terms of the special session and look like the scolding father telling the kids to clean up their room by a certain time or there will be no supper -- or, in this case, no re-election.

Patton's opinion attempted to answer three questions -- whether the midnight deadline on June 4 was real, or whether it was not as lawmakers deemed; whether Guinn can set time limits and restrict subject matter in the session; and whether the governor can order the Legislature to consider reapportionment.

The short answers from Patton are maybe, yes and yes. But the reasoning in the opinion -- or at least some of the case law cited -- is more tortured than anything the Gang of 63 came up with during the 120 days -- or was it 121? -- they spent in Carson City. Indeed, after reading this opinion, one could never again be confident of how long 120 days actually is, what the definition of "midnight" really is, and what standard time means.

Calling George Orwell.

Patton argues that because the state Constitution mandates sine die 120 days "following" the regular session's commencement, "it is the opinion of this office that the first day of the season, February 5, is not to be counted in determining the specific date that falls 120 calendar days after the session commenced." That is, when the public voted for 120-day sessions, they actually were voting for 121-day sessions. Make sense?

Patton bases his argument on a similar finding by the Alaska Supreme Court -- methinks those justices need to get some space heaters in their offices to get their brains out of a deep freeze. So, Patton concludes, the 120th day actually fell on last Tuesday, not last Monday, so the Gang of 63 could have gone until midnight, June 5, not midnight, June 4.

So they actually had another day, right? No, not quite. You see, Patton writes, "This conclusion, however, only leads to the next question, which is: When was midnight, Pacific standard time, on Tuesday, June 5, 2001?"

Well, at the risk of sounding like a cretin, wasn't it, um, at midnight?

It's not that simple, Patton tells us. Was midnight "when the first stroke of June 5 fell, or was it 24 hours later when the last second of the day elapsed and first stroke of June 6 was sounded?" I am not making this up, folks.

Patton goes on to cite dictionary definitions of midnight and states that even they are ambiguous as to defining the term as "denoting solely either the beginning or the ending of the day." And because this question has never been addressed by the state Supreme Court -- what could they have been thinking?! -- it is "unsettled" and the most conservative interpretation (12:00 a.m. on June 5) should be used, Patton argues. Really, he does.

Apparently not quite done yet, Patton then tries to sort out whether midnight "Pacific Standard Time" in the Constitution actually could have been equated to 1 a.m. daylight savings time. Patton comically calls this a "seemingly logical and appealing" argument, but then refers to a provision of the federal code that indicates that daylight savings time actually "becomes the standard time" during that period in which it is observed.

Again, this is really in there.

But, once again, this is not at all clear, Patton writes. So in Dana Carvey fashion, he essentially concludes about allowing those post-midnight bills to go unratified: wouldn't be prudent.

The rest of the opinion stretches a little less to conclude Guinn can wield immense power over what the lawmakers can and can't do later this week. The governor got what he wanted: An opinion that says he can act as Big Brother and that he will be watching.

And if the lawmakers misbehave, they risk being relegated, in Orwellian fashion, to nonperson status come November 2002. Or, perhaps better, but apparently more ambiguously put, the clock will toll midnight on their careers.