Why is it that so many of us can't be happy unless something is going terribly wrong?
For example, a woman friend of mine for many years, (who could grace a magazine cover under the name "Has is all") regularly crashes in relationships with guys who are obvious jerks. My role in this friendship, after the invariable breakup, is to defend the male sex generally while we debate the topic: "Resolved: All men are selfish jerks." After a while, this usually results in my suggesting she pick a calmer, more reliable kind of guy as a boyfriend, and her responding, laughing, "but that would be SO DULL." Then, off she goes to crash and burn again.
So, too, it seems, goes the relationship with many Minnesotans and their legislature. Rather than be satisfied with something as dull and stable as our current batch of legislators seem determined to be, they seem to need flying dishes, public spats and chaos.
So far, we've had one of the dullest first months of session in recent memory. This isn't very hard to explain: a large, new majority (who now, perhaps, know where most of the bathrooms are in the Capitol), learning the ropes, as well as new committee chairs quietly meeting lobbyists and trying to figure out just which bills their committees need to be hearing.
In a relatively prosperous year, with no fiscal crises looming, this is exactly the kind of dull, scando-blando performance we should be hoping for from those folks.
Somebody needs to say: "Leave well enough alone."
But for those of us that really "love the game," that's no fun, of course. And, as my friend would be quick to point out, that's just the kind of safe, dull advice I can be counted on to give.
Republican advice, I'd say. But, oddly enough, it's my fellow Republicans who are, with the press, the biggest complainers right now about the lack of pace and excitement so far this session. It's like we can't stand a little peace and quiet and "need a rat" to feel like this really is politics, after all.
Don't worry. All the ingredients are in place for a major meltdown later in the session when the classic DFL appetite for revenue bumps up against suburban anti-tax sensibilities.
But, right now? I'd say, just be glad they don't snore.
For example, a woman friend of mine for many years, (who could grace a magazine cover under the name "Has is all") regularly crashes in relationships with guys who are obvious jerks. My role in this friendship, after the invariable breakup, is to defend the male sex generally while we debate the topic: "Resolved: All men are selfish jerks." After a while, this usually results in my suggesting she pick a calmer, more reliable kind of guy as a boyfriend, and her responding, laughing, "but that would be SO DULL." Then, off she goes to crash and burn again.
So, too, it seems, goes the relationship with many Minnesotans and their legislature. Rather than be satisfied with something as dull and stable as our current batch of legislators seem determined to be, they seem to need flying dishes, public spats and chaos.
So far, we've had one of the dullest first months of session in recent memory. This isn't very hard to explain: a large, new majority (who now, perhaps, know where most of the bathrooms are in the Capitol), learning the ropes, as well as new committee chairs quietly meeting lobbyists and trying to figure out just which bills their committees need to be hearing.
In a relatively prosperous year, with no fiscal crises looming, this is exactly the kind of dull, scando-blando performance we should be hoping for from those folks.
Somebody needs to say: "Leave well enough alone."
But for those of us that really "love the game," that's no fun, of course. And, as my friend would be quick to point out, that's just the kind of safe, dull advice I can be counted on to give.
Republican advice, I'd say. But, oddly enough, it's my fellow Republicans who are, with the press, the biggest complainers right now about the lack of pace and excitement so far this session. It's like we can't stand a little peace and quiet and "need a rat" to feel like this really is politics, after all.
Don't worry. All the ingredients are in place for a major meltdown later in the session when the classic DFL appetite for revenue bumps up against suburban anti-tax sensibilities.
But, right now? I'd say, just be glad they don't snore.