Almanac: At the Capitol

There are reasonable economic arguments to be made against a statewide smoking ban for public places — not necessarily correct arguments, but reasonable.

And then there's the argument State Sen. Tom Neuville (R-Northfield) tried to make in the Mankato Free Press — lo and behold, second-hand smoke isn't all that bad!

Apparently Sen. Neuville has been studying at the Dick Day School of Tobacco Politics:

One of the largest studies on the effects of second-hand smoke was conducted by James Enstrom and Geoff Kabat, and published in 2003. Their study, conducted from 1960 through 1998, found "no significant associations for current or former exposure to environmental tobacco smoke." They concluded that, "the results did not support a causal relation between environmental tobacco and tobacco-related mortality. The association between exposure to second-hand smoke and coronary heart disease and lung cancer may be considerably weaker than generally believed."

Unbelievably, the surgeon general did not even consider this large and recent study. Likewise, a study, published in 1998, and commissioned by the World Health Organization in Europe, made similar conclusions, but was not publicized when the results found no relationship between second-hand smoke and cancer or heart disease. Most studies on second-hand smoke find that the relative risk of second-hand smoke is less than the relative risk of taking birth control pills for women. Yet, no one is suggesting that we should declare birth control pills a health hazard.

Truthfully, second-hand smoke is an annoyance and a nuisance. Some people are allergic, and others who have asthma should avoid any kind of smoke. However, second-hand smoke is not a public health risk because people can avoid it.

Why did the Surgeon General not consider that study? Possibly because it was funded by a front for the tobacco companies, or perhaps because Enstrom has accepted funding from Philip Morris, a major cigarette manufacturer. The purpose of Enstrom's study, and the Center for Indoor Air Research? Why, the same purpose as the Discovery Institute's attempt to debunk the theory of Evolution: produce controversy where there was none, and turn generally-accepted fact into theoretical politically-biased mumbo-jumbo, making action on behalf of public safety impossible.

Again, there are economic arguments against a smoking ban — a temporary drop in business from fewer smokers going out to eat or drink can prove costly in the short run, especially to small establishments — but arguing that a statewide smoking ban isn't necessary because second-hand smoke isn't as dangerous as the entire legitimate medical community says? Good luck with that, Sen. Neuville.

Anyone who has spent time driving on the various expressways in Europe — Italy and Germany, in particular — has had the experience: You're cruising along in the "speed lane" on the left at a breathtaking 85 or 90 miles per hour. In the rearview mirror, you catch a glance of a low gray streak with headlights gaining on you, maybe a quarter mile back. You look to the right to get into the next lane, signal, and, in what seems like less than a second, look back again to see a grey sedan thirty feet behind you, impatiently flashing its lights, waiting to get by. You get out of the way and a grey streak with a "Beamer" logo blasts by you and, in another moment, is off on the horizon — probably doing a hundred and thirty.

Here in Minnesota, where our left "passing" lane is regularly policed by what I call "SLDs" (Sanctimonious Liberal Democrats), who are going "just fast enough, thank you, and certainly faster than YOU should be going," this is the kind of driving experience reserved for TV commercials.

But in Minnesota politics, where most of us who have been, or are in, elected politics plod along in the political equivalent of the right lane, the population of those that have soared past us on the left lane, seemingly from out of nowhere, is a source of endless interest and, even, envy.

The most obvious example, of course, is Jesse Ventura. But Dave Durenberger, who went from a private practice to the United States Senate in the astonishing 1978 election would certainly qualify. So would a young Walter Mondale, in the early '60s, who went from a bright political appointee to the AG's office, to the Senate and beyond. ("Fritz who?")

More recently, Amy Klobuchar's meteoric rise, although preceded by local office, would seem to qualify.

The most obvious example, though, and the one on whom all eyes should be fixed, is Attorney General Lori Swanson. Laboring in obscurity under the shadows of her former boss, Mike Hatch, she learned the ins and outs of the office of Attorney General. It's a position that certainly has catapulted others upward: United States District Judge Jack Tunheim and Senator Norm Coleman come to mind. But the strange twists and turns of the last election, and her last minute decision to run, make her appearance on the scene seem especially sudden.

Attractive, very articulate and suburban, she brings to the plate a lot of assets without the usual burden of a political history in elective office with the attached opponents or enemies. Her experience makes her somewhat less likely to commit the kind of newby political mistakes that would cost serious consideration for other offices. And, most importantly, she has, in the Attorney General office, a platform to get her regularly before the public on "feel good" public policy issues and actions.

As a Republican who regularly scans the horizon for what may be coming at us soon, right now, Lori Swanson is looking like that Beamer in the mirror. The Democrats, at this, admittedly, very early stage, don't have anyone obvious yet to run for Governor beside her. A lot can happen between now and 2010 in the world of politics, but Republicans need to be very aware of where they are driving while she's on the road.

Could You Please Send Us a Million Dollars?

TIME: 8:49 p.m. on a warm Sunday, April 15.

[The phone rings.]

ME: Hello?

CALLER: Hello. Is [name of my wife] home?

ME: May I ask who's calling?

CALLER: I'm calling from the Democratic-Farmer-Labor Party of Minnesota.

[I look at the caller ID. The phone call is coming from a number in Milwaukee.]

ME: From Milwaukee?

CALLER: It must be a bounce. I'm actually calling from Little Falls.

ME: Oh, how was the weather up there today?

CALLER: Nice. But I didn't get to see much of it. I had to work.

ME: I understand. A drag.

CALLER: Yeah.

ME: Are you a DFLer?

CALLER: Yep.

ME: But they pay you, right? You're not a volunteer?

CALLER: No, they pay me.

ME: Do you earn a salary or are you on commission?

CALLER: Both.

ME: I see. But I bet it's not much, is it?

CALLER: No. But it's about the only thing I can get here. There aren't too many good jobs in Little Falls.

ME: I can imagine. I've done phone solicitation before. It's not easy.

CALLER: No, it isn't.

ME: You're not union, are you?

CALLER: [Pause.] No.

ME: The DFL is a big supporter of unions. Too bad there isn't a union for phone callers.

CALLER: Yeah.

ME: Well, I'd like to help you, but actually we've given this year. We give to our local DFL.

CALLER: OK.

ME: I'd like to help you, but...

CALLER: It's all right.

ME: Good luck.

CALLER: Thanks.

ME: 'Bye.

CALLER: 'Bye.

[I hang up.]

Now for the equal time part. I used to get phone calls from the Republicans as well. Heck, I may still get some in the future. They invariably seem to come from someplace in Utah. Only they're not a bounce. The caller is really calling from Utah. I ask pretty much the same questions. Except I say, "Are you a Republican?"

The answer varies. Sometimes they say yes. Sometimes they say they're not political. Whereupon I ask if they're registered to vote, and they say, "No." So I encourage them to register to vote and become aware of the issues that may affect them, because after all, this is a democracy, isn't it?

I remember one caller for the Republicans in particular. This was some time ago. I asked her my usual retinue of questions. When I came to my "Are you a Republican?" question, she said, no, she was a Democrat. I said, "Why are you calling for the Republicans then?"

She said, "Because it's the only job I could get. I have three kids."

Oh.

I'm not a big fan of political fund raising. I'm a firm believer that money taints the system. And, right now, it's all we seem to hear about when the political races are brought up.

"Hillary Clinton has raised $26 million."

"Barack Obama has raised $23.5 million."

"Mitt Romney has raised more than $20 million."

"Rudolph Giuliani has raised $13.8 million."

"John McCain has raised $13 million."

All told, that's almost $100 million. In one quarter. Eight months before the Iowa caucuses. Nine months before the first primaries. (If you're a female you could conceive and have a kid in that time.) A little more than a year and a half before the general election.

What if those megabuck donations could go toward something else?

Let's see. One hundred million dollars.... That'll get you about 50 million school lunches or 20 million meals on wheels or 2 million children's dental visits or two-thirds of a day of war in Iraq.

While certainly a sad commentary on our national priorities, it's not just the candidates and political parties who are to blame. It's the media, too. To them, "Who's raising how much money?" is more important than "What do you plan to do about the health care crisis in this country?"

And it's not just CNN, Fox, ABC, NBC and CBS. It's NPR and PBS as well. Heck, they're the worst.

Is there something wrong with this picture?

Perhaps all this political fund raising is giving somebody a lousy-paying job in Little Falls, Minn., or God-knows-where, Utah, but I'll be damned if I can figure out what good it's doing for our democracy.

Can anybody give me a clue?

I was just saying on my weekly radio segment on WCCO with Eleanor Mondale and Susie Jones that the legislature is a lot like college. You wait to do things until the last minute, cram, stay up all night, make great friends, get in big fights and initiate freshmen. Last night I got to see a freshman become victim on freshman hazing. The poor, unnamed, eager representative showed up in the House Gallery as I was ready to go on live for Almanac: At the Capitol. I had to inform her that she was the victim of freshman hoax. What happens every year is that a fellow lawmaker writes a note, pretending to be me, saying Mary Lahammer wants to interview you in the House Gallery. They see the bright lights and the camera and come running. The poor things. Now usually I can figure out who put the freshman up to it by looking on the floor below and seeing who's looking up and laughing. But last night the culprits had poker faces on and I couldn't figure out who to blame.