LOOKING IN ON: CARSON CITY

By J. Patrick Coolican (contact)

Sunday, June 3, 2007 | 7:12 a.m.

CARSON CITY - The cynicism can come so easy to the players here. A number of lobbyists said they were sticking around on the last weekend of the legislative session just to make sure they didn't get well, it can't be printed here, but they seem to be saying they didn't want to get taken advantage of by rivals.

Another offered advice about what to look out for in the final days: who is, um, violating the rights of whom, though, again, spoken in coarser language.

Even outside the realm of lobbyists, for whom cynicism is the stuff of witty banter, if not a stock-in-trade, it's easy to see many other people grab and hold on to an overpowering suspicion: Everyone in the legislative process is in it for himself. (Or, herself.)

It's a suspicion they have bolstered by yet another suspicion: In the end, the kids and the poor people and the sick and the aged seem like the last ones at the table, carving up a pie with Dickensian dimensions.

So, to continue with food metaphors: Mix in all the elements - the ruthless business lobbyists, the overpowering urge to self-interest, the voiceless innocents - and you see servings of grilled cynic burger that is tasty to many a tongue. In other words, it's easy for the people involved to begin thinking the whole process is a colossal waste of time.

Indeed, in response to last week's transportation compromise, which is fairly small-bore compared with southern Nevada's big transportation needs, a certain Sun reporter spoke approvingly, if facetiously, of the liberation of lowered expectations.

But like the easy and ever-so-tempting fast-food drive-thru on the way home, cynicism can be toxic.

So, as a public service, here's some relief:

The issue has become a favorite cause of Assembly Speaker Barbara Buckley, D-Las Vegas. Every time the law was under discussion this session, two separate groups always appeared: Military officers pleading with the Legislature to clamp down on the lenders because so many of their enlisted men and women were finding themselves in deep financial holes because of the extreme interest rates; and, rather shifty-looking characters whose necks and wrists seemed weighed down with the gold and diamond fruits of high-interest rates.

Despite pressure from the latter, the bill passed and the governor signed it.

Under the new law, a company charging more than 40 percent can only do so for 35 days, after which the rate must drop to the prime rate plus 10 percent.

Nevadans lead the country in meth use. Not real cool.

Gibbons laid out an ambitious plan in his State of the State address, calling the meth problem "the colossal struggle of our times."

And, yet, comprehensive legislation championed by Assembly Judiciary Chairman Bernie Anderson, D-Sparks, died. It would have required retailers who sell products with the raw ingredient of meth - the pseudo-ephedrine in many cold medicines - to keep an inventory of those products. Because the bill had a fee increase to pay for regulators, it required two-thirds for passage.

So, here's what it looked like: Meth is an epidemic in Nevada, a cause of great suffering for addicts, their families and the community. But the Nevada Legislature preferred to do nothing.

But then something happened.

A number of legislators, plus Tom Clark, a lobbyist working on the issue pro bono, decided they weren't quitting. They came up with their own bill, one that would ban anyone other than pharmacies from selling meth raw materials. And if pharmacies discover missing inventory, they must inform the police.

The bill passed the Assembly late last week, and is on its way to becoming law.