Leave a legacy, Gov. Granholm

The worst kept secret in Lansing this year has been how much Jennifer Granholm wanted to skip town -- and how badly folks from both parties were dying for her to do just that.

After the governor was named to Barack Obama's economic transition team, most of Lansing's chattering class considered her a lock for a cabinet post. Evidently, the New York Times was convinced enough to run a cover story and all the networks came calling.

Around the corridors of the Capitol, Democrats could be seen crossing their fingers that the governor's name would be announced. And Republicans grumbled that although she certainly wasn't qualified for Labor or Energy Secretary, Granholm could sell anything.

The general sentiment among legislators was that they'd love to spend the next two years working with Lt. Gov. John Cherry, especially with the sorry shape the budget's in. And Democrats relished the idea of him waltzing into the 2010 election as an incumbent.

But after weeks of Obama's methodically laudatory press conferences, which had to be a form of Chinese water torture for the guv, she surfaced with bupkis.

Last week, she quickly put out the word that she wanted to stick it out here, "given all the crises Michigan is facing." But it was painfully clear that Granholm had been passed over for Labor and was allowed this face-saving gesture by Team Obama. Sure enough, a California congresswoman nabbed the post two days later.

That's not to say Granholm will walk away empty-handed in the long-run. Not all cabinet nominees make it through the confirmation process or serve a full term. And after her rave reviews for conducting the Kwame Kilpatrick hearing this summer, she'll certainly be on the federal bench list.

But it's a significant blow. Republicans will undoubtedly try to pounce on her weakness in negotiations, although after the beating they took on Nov. 4, they're pretty anemic themselves.

The more salient issue is why so many lawmakers of both parties were terribly eager to throw the governor a goodbye party.

In reality, this sentiment really isn't anything new; it's just reached a fever pitch after last year's government shutdown and it looked like Obama was generously posing a way out.

Granholm arrived at the governor's mansion via the attorney general's office, not the Capitol, and her lack of legislative experience has always caused tension. Like Bill Clinton in 1993, the governor frankly didn't get how the process worked and it's cost her dearly.

She's made deals that she's quickly reneged on, as even Democrats gripe, which has long eroded trust with lawmakers. Now that Senate Minority Leader Mark Schauer, D-Battle Creek, is hightailing it to D.C., she's lost her biggest legislative ally. House Democrats are far more loyal to Speaker Andy Dillon than to her, something of which she's well aware.

Meanwhile, Senate Majority Leader Mike Bishop, R-Rochester, has a visceral disdain for Granholm. He recently sniffed to the Wall Street Journal that she "likes to be governor more than she likes to governs," which is kind of like Ken calling out Barbie for vanity.

All this means that we can look forward to a couple of years of fabulous friction, as 2009's budget hole is at least $265 million and 2010's is a jaw-dropping $1.5 billion, unless Obama's federal stimulus saves the day. Granholm, Dillon and Bishop are all term-limited, as well as a good chunk of the House and all but eight senators, which means a lot of folks will be lookin' for work instead of workin' full-time for Michigan.

Out of crisis can emerge great leaders. There seems little hope for that in the Mitten State, if the '07 government shutdown is any guide. But it's legacy-building time and this is the governor's shot.

Few honest Republicans would dispute that she is immensely intelligent, persuasive and personable. No one is more aware of the problems Michigan faces than she is.

So in her final two years, Granholm should draw on her talents and be the leader she has always had the potential to be. Start with slashing the bloated Corrections budget and dumping the Michigan Business Tax surcharge. Revisit the idea of doubling the number of college graduates by 2015 and make sure we're on track. Have the courage to fix the structural budget deficit by pushing for a ballot question on a graduated income tax.

For years, Michigan has passed a slew of economic development measures to lure new businesses. The time now is to look long-term for the state's fiscal health.

None of this will guarantee her a job with Obama. In reality, it probably won't help much. Her polls numbers aren't going anywhere but down as the economy plunges south.

What will help is that Granholm has the highest national profile of any governor in modern Michigan history. She'll continue to get invites for "Larry King" and "Good Morning America" about the Big Three. It would be very tempting to rely on that exposure to net her next job.

But that won't do a damn thing for Michigan.

Granholm promised to "never stop fighting" for us. It's been six long years and talk is cheap. Governor, the time to act is now.

The Republicans' Rosetta Stone

Behold, Republicans. The Rosetta Stone for your demise has been unearthed right here in Michigan.

After last week's bloodbath, conservatives are desperately trying to decipher exit poll data and county-by-county vote tallies for answers as to what went wrong. But the key to Republican renewal is right in front of us.

Let's journey to the 7th Congressional District, that swath of rural rugged individualism from the Lansing suburbs to the Indiana-Ohio border. The district was designed to be the most Republican in the state, but come January, a liberal Democrat will represent it in Congress.

State Sen. Mark Schauer, D-Battle Creek, toppled Republican U.S. Rep. Tim Walberg 49 to 47 percent on Nov. 4. True to his petulant nature, the soon-to-be-ex-congressman waited well into the next day to concede, I'm told, although the results were clear.

How did this happen? Ask Joe Schwarz.

Back in 2004, the centrist eked out a GOP primary win for an open seat against Walberg and four other cookie-cutter conservatives. Schwarz's bipartisan appeal earned him 58 percent of the vote in the general.

The Battle Creek physician and 16-year veteran of the state Senate was ranked one of the top 10 most effective freshman members of Congress. He trekked home every weekend, hitting the pig roast circuit in the southern counties like Lenawee and Hillsdale that regarded him with suspicion, despite his conservative bona fides as a decorated Vietnam War veteran and CIA operative, who among other things, helped save Indonesia from a violent Communist coup.

Walberg, a faceless former state rep and Bible salesman, spied an opening. No one could beat Schwarz in a general election - that was clear - but GOP primaries are odd, cloistered contests that disproportionately draw the far right.

Bingo.

With a little help (say, about $1 million) from the anti-tax smear machine Club for Growth, Wally was in business for '06. The Club reduced Schwarz to a caricature, an "embarrassingly liberal" dude who liked nothing better than dispensing Viagra to bums on welfare. As an evangelical preacher, Walberg took care of the church crowd, warning that the good doctor was a baby-killing gay lover out to steal our guns.

Schwarz wasn't helped any when he had to take controversial votes on issues like gay marriage, which he said was redundant. So why did former Majority Leader John Boehner allow that to come to the floor? Why didn't the Michigan Republican Party and the National Republican Congressional Committee sit Timmy down and tell him to butt out?

Because the truth is, the Republican machinery is controlled from top to bottom by right-wing activists. And they like Walberg's politics a lot more than Schwarz's. The seat will always stay Republican, they reasoned, so why not trade a maverick for a foot soldier?

In the end, it wasn't even close. Walberg won by 6 points. But the darling of the far right couldn't even break 50 percent that fall against Sharon Renier, an organic chicken farmer with $1.03 in the bank.

"You're just setting this seat up for Mark Schauer to win it in 2008," warned Schwarz aide Matt Marsden, who was promptly mocked for having sour grapes.

One of the cynics, columnist Brad Flory, conceded this week in the Jackson Citizen Patriot, "Those Schwarz people look like geniuses now."

You betcha.

This year, Republicans lost another crop of moderates thanks to Club for Growth's scorched earth tactics, including U.S. Rep. Wayne Gilchrest in Maryland and U.S. Rep. Heather Wilson in New Mexico.

Enough is enough. The GOP needs a moratorium on primarying incumbents, stat.

The holy grail of ideological purity has proven to be the priciest of illusions. The number of seats lost because the GOP no longer appeals to moderate, suburban voters is staggering. Many centrists have fled the party (Schwarz is a Republican-leaning independent who endorsed Schauer), thus robbing the GOP of institutional knowledge critical to rebuild.

Indeed, much of the brain trust - Colin Powell, former U.S. Sen. Lincoln Chafee, former Rep. Jim Leach - are odds-on favorites to join the Barack Obama administration.

Sadly, there are few grown-ups to tell the right-wing rapscallions to put down the Pop Rocks and come down from the sugar high of deliciously divisive politics. They don't work anymore.

Karl Rove ain't the messiah -he's just another washed-up pundit on teevee who's fallen into the trap of insisting elections can be won with the same nasty tactics from his glory days. Electorates change. Politics change. The Republican Party needs to be nimbler and more inclusive to survive and flourish.

So where's the party heading in Michigan? State Sen. Alan Cropsey, R-DeWitt, a close ally of Walberg and a Bob Jones University grad, reportedly has the answer to the GOP's woes in '10.

Why, a ballot question banning gay adoption, of course.

Now, I could show him the data that initiatives don't drive up the vote unless it's on affirmative action (and that's already been done, folks).

But Cropsey undoubtedly has God on his side. And Democrats from Grosse Pointe to Grayling are hoping he keeps the faith.

Vote for Schauer, I guess

What’s always impressed me about Mark Schauer is how good he looks on paper and the blind loyalty he inspires.

He’s been an elected official for more than a dozen years, serving in leadership roles for most of that time. Armed with a master’s degree in public administration from Western Michigan University, the Senate Minority Leader can articulate his vision for the state fairly well.

But it’s Schauer’s past life heading one of the admirable Community Action Agencies - whose innovative anti-poverty programs keep many cities afloat - that offers the most promise.

When I interviewed the affable Democrat extensively last June, I was hoping to finally peel away his cloying exclamations (“Hiiii, Susan! So glad a reporter from my hometown paper can be here!”) and get back to that guy who just wanted to make Battle Creek a better place.

Unfortunately, there’s not much there there. Despite his fervent insistence, he hasn’t been an integral player in any of the major budget and tax negotiations.

He can talk about the issues but stumbles when he actually has to relate to other human beings, which is why he’s openly despised by many in his caucus. It’s his way or the highway. Especially when you’re in the minority, that’s a one-way ticket to irrelevance.

Schauer struggled to discuss Doris Kearns Goodwin’s glorious Lincoln bio, “Team of Rivals,” attempting to draw comparisons to modern-day Michigan that never quite worked.

Mark couldn’t name a policy position differing from Jennifer Granholm (“We have a special relationship,” he boasts, quite often). Of course, whenever they’re together, Gov. Photo-op always seems to look through him, a silent reminder that he’s not really part of her Wayne County in-crowd.

The one bright spot was when Schauer talked early childhood education, something he’s clearly passionate about and has researched extensively.

Then came his flat denial that he was never, ever gonna run for the 7th District Congressional seat. Not even if U.S. Rep. Tim Walberg voided on the Battle Creek City Hall steps (which metaphorically, he has).

About a month later, Schauer changed his tune, gravely informing me that he was the only man up for the job. Even asking the obvious query (“How long was this plan cooking?”) brought howls from St. Mark and his minions. How dareth you question the motives of the only man who can bring down the evil that is Walberg?

Methinks the senator doth protest too much.

Mark didn’t want to talk issues; it was all strategy - how superior he was to the other Dems he’d recruited to run. The fact that he’d stab his longtime friend former state Sen. Jim Berryman in the back was both distasteful and disheartening. A stand-up guy if I’ve ever met one, Berryman handled his knifing with aplomb and never badmouthed Schauer once.

The newly declared frontrunner promptly proceeded to lock himself in a room to raise money for four or five hours a day, which began to take its toll on his once-mostly brown hairline.

Fundraising is another slippery area for Schauer, who’s being investigated for his connection to $440,000 in allegedly illegal contributions to the Senate Democratic Fund in 2006 during his quixotic quest to take back the upper chamber. Mark denies this (his staffers call it a “witch-hunt”) but I guarantee that if this was on the up and up, Republicans would have done it years ago.

You’d think this might raise an eyebrow with Democrats, who would want the strongest candidate, as well as one with a solid moral compass. But some are starry-eyed college kids terrified of Walberg’s reactionary politics who idealize Schauer as their savior.

Others from the loony left blogosphere pen junior-high paeans to him (“Mark! Mark! He’s our man!”) that he no doubt sniggers at while gladly cashing their ActBlue checks. Of course, folks who cheer Tony Snow’s death and spit on John McCain’s years of torture have no problem with Schauer’s scruples, as they lack any themselves.

But when Democrats fail to demand accountability and high standards from their leaders, instead gleefully and conveniently eviscerating the GOP for all of society’s ills, you get Michigan Democratic Party head Mark Brewer. He’s free to launch a stealth “constitutional reform” petition drive, which is just a blatant power grab for the party.

And you get opportunists like Mark Schauer.

But vote for him anyway. Not because he’ll make a difference on climate change, trade agreements or health care reform. The Dems will be in control whether he wins or loses and he’ll have no power whatsoever.

The one thing Schauer has going for him is he does give a damn about the district. Not as much as he does about his own ego, but certainly more than Walberg, whose very marrow has been purchased by far-right lobbyists.

If there’s a wave of plant closures, Mark won’t tell folks in foreclosure the free market works. He’ll at least know who to call for help.

I'd like to think that old CAA director is lurking somewhere in Schauer’s soul. To be honest, I think he’d do more for Michigan and himself if he’d go back there.

Campaign finance for charlatans

It’s the clash of Congressman Club for Growth vs. Senator Slush Fund.

Forgive me for not being all aquiver.

Evidently, the 7th Congressional District has very bad karma, because so far, U.S. Rep. Tim Walberg, R-Tipton, and state Sen. Mark Schauer, D-Bedford Township, seem sure to face off next year.

And neither has the vision, experience or ethics to do the job at a time when the depressed district needs genuine leadership.

Walberg, as you’ll recall, sweet-talked the cabalistic Club for Growth lobby into shoveling more than $1 million into his 2006 campaign. How else could a Know Nothing state rep whose only accomplishment was voting no on everything topple a tough incumbent in the primary?

Timmy even needed bags of cash from the Club when squaring off in the general election against Sharon Renier, a chicken farmer with $1.03 in the bank.

Well, lots of politicians get creative to raise dough, but the preacher and his anti-tax CFG partners in crime might well have run afoul of the law.

Three complaints (now rolled into two) filed in 2006 with the Federal Election Commission claim Walberg illegally took $500,000 of Club-raised cash, the group failed to properly register its activities as a political action committee and both were in cahoots (no!), illegally sharing pollsters and consultants.

The lovefest’s lasted after the election, with Walberg and the missus in April enjoying a $3,332 Club for Growth junket to the Ritz-Carlton Palm Beach and a cruise on a 170-foot yacht, CQ MoneyLine reports.

Because when you’re chit-chatting about cutting government to the bone, you gotta do it in the lap of luxury.

The FEC dismissed the grievances, but they're being appealed. Walbots deny the allegations, sniffing it’s a sour-grapes plot by his foe, former U.S. Rep. Joe Schwarz.

What’s clear is CFG ain’t exactly the Boy Scouts. In September, the lobby agreed to pay $350,000 in civil penalties to settle a lawsuit the FEC itself filed in 2005, arguing the group should have registered as a PAC in 2000, 2002 and 2004.

As for Walberg’s character, there’s something vile about an alleged man of God rapturously crucifying his enemies, from the “embarrassingly liberal” Schwarz to the “radical” Hillary Clinton.

Meanwhile, Schauer, beatified by the left, often gets a pass.

But in his quest to take back the Senate last year – which failed wretchedly – Gov. Jennifer Granholm’s lapdog dove headfirst into campaign finance quicksand.

Schauer served as chair of the Senate Democratic Campaign Committee, while his bombastic chief of staff, Ken Brock, took over as treasurer of the Senate Democratic Fund.

The fund raked in $440,000 above the legal limit of $20,000 per person – which the Dems don’t deny. Twelve senatorial candidate committees violated that, with Schauer as the worst offender at $187,000.

The moolah was instantly pumped into the campaigns of four key candidates, three of whom were trounced anyway.

For state races, this is a staggering chunk of change. The grievance is pretty cut and dried. When seven candidates got wind of the GOP’s Secretary of State complaint, they ostensibly demanded a refund. Marky-Mark did not.

A Schauer spokesman protests Republicans have done this before, so somehow it’s a-OK. Tom Lenard cites a 1995 SOS ruling that candidates can give till it hurts if they're trying to advance their career. Problem is, the department, which is still investigating, notes that came before the $20,000 cap was set in 1996.

Democrats also argue a federal judge didn’t grant an injunction against the fund last year - but he didn’t buy the old SOS ruling, either.

Schauer’s not exactly a model of moral turpitude, having brazenly lied to his caucus to win the top post - and candidates he recruited for the 7th District - that he wouldn’t run himself. His slick Calhoun County machine reminds me of journalist Pete Hamill’s acerbic assessment of the New York Democratic Party as “young hustlers with blue hair, trying to get their hands on highway contracts.”

Both candidates play the part of the principled politician to the hilt – Walberg as the über-conservative, anti-abortion warrior and Schauer as the bright-eyed, progressive reformer. In reality, modest Mark takes his marching orders from the governor and reverend’s soul is the property of Club for Growth.

But wait, some of my liberal friends will yelp. You can’t be saying Schauer would be as bad as the anti-Christ.

Well, no, I reckon my 3-year-old godson could do the job just as well (he’s superb at following orders). Policy-wise, Schauer would be a step up if he could manage to pen press releases without lying about snaring money for the Battle Creek Airport that he voted against.

What I find revolting is that both swim the sewage of politics and don’t retch – they actually seem to feed off the stench.

It’s still early enough for other candidates to jump in. Lord knows, we deserve better.

Long-term thinking still lacking in Lansing

"Sha-la-la-la-la-la, live for today/ And don't worry 'bout tomorrow, hey, hey, hey."— Grass Roots lyrics, 1967, and unofficial motto of the Michigan Legislature

Who knew that a risqué ode to sweet lovin' could so perfectly encapsulate the state's ongoing budget fiasco?

No, it ain't over yet.We still don't have a 2008 budget, and there are only 13 days left until the Halloween deadline — which, for the superstitious or policy wonks among us, are very bad signs, indeed.

When the Capitol gang held their Oct. 1 slumber party (House Speaker Andy Dillon forgot the beer), they only finished half the job. At least legislators were true to the work ethic they brandished when going on holiday for most of July.

Lawmakers finally swallowed $1.35 billion in new taxes, prompting Gov. Jennifer Granholm to sign a 30-day budget extension. But nobody had the stomach to send programs and jobs to the guillotine that night (witness once-slash-happy Republicans surrender their plan to cleave $600 million.)

Since then, the Legislature has gone on a great treasure hunt to find $440 million to cut, which probably will mean prisoners being let out, fewer poor people seeing doctors and fewer child abuse investigations.

Gotta find the money somewhere, and the state budget office says the departmental bleeding can't be absorbed solely by attrition and efficiencies.

The budget battle begins anew next week when bills come to the floor.Oh, and here's the bad news. We're fewer than four months away from having to do it all over again for 2009.What's worse, the nonpartisan Citizens Research Council estimates we'll have a $200 million to $500 million hole to patch.

How's that possible? You can almost hear the sound of seething taxpayers surrounding the Capitol, pitchforks in hand.

After all, you now have to pay taxes on all your astrological and escort service needs. That wouldn't be so bad if we could stave off future draconian cuts to schools, health care and police.

It could work if we were investing in what would grow jobs and modernize Michigan — higher education, culture and natural resources. It would be worth it if Lansing finally licked the state's structural budget deficit.

If you're going to ask people to sacrifice, do it right.Here's the hard truth: They didn't.Extending the sales tax to some services isn't a bad idea, since our economy increasingly has shifted in that direction. Problem is, our tax system remains out of touch, said Tom Clay, former deputy state treasurer and the council's emeritus state affairs director.

The key is to draft a less capricious list than lawmakers cobbled together at the last minute. (Forget about fees to tee off, but pay up for phrenology, that staple of 19th century pseudoscience.)

Meanwhile, the economy and the auto industry are still in shambles — though there's some hope on the horizon for the Big Three with recent union contract talks. Still, there's little chance we'll see a boost in tax revenue for a while, especially if more people lose their jobs.

The new bump in the income tax to 4.35 percent doesn't stabilize revenues, Clay said. What's more effective is to raise the rate even more, and increase taxpayers' personal exemptions.

There's also initiating a gradual income tax rate, as most states have. Of course, that would take a constitutional amendment.

"This stuff is pretty straightforward," Clay says. "But it's pretty tough politically."

And there's the rub.Politicians have flaunted their "live for today" mantra since term limits kicked in, knowing they could shun unpopular reforms and pass unsustainable tax cuts to ride to re-election and sweet lobbying jobs afterward.

They no longer have $4.2 billion in reserves to raid, but lawmakers have done their damnedest this year to avoid tough choices anyway.All except Dillon, who truly gets it, but has been bogged down by the partisanship of his peers.

Like that of Senate Majority Leader Mike Bishop, who's busily plotting a gubernatorial bid, and Minority Leader Mark Schauer. who's picking out curtains for his new congressional office.

Though there's little love lost between the two, they might well break into a soulful Grass Roots rendition betwixt fundraisers:

"We were never meant to worry the way that people do/ And I don't need to hurry as long as I'm with you/ We'll take it nice and easy and use my simple plan ..."

Simple plans often carry heavy price tags. The bills are coming due for Michiganders today, in more taxes and fewer services.
But unless politicians shed their tunnel vision, you can bet you'll keep paying more in years to come.

What was the budget war good for? Absolutely nothing

LANSING — It was about 56 minutes into Col. Mike Bishop's quixotic last stand at the Capitol early Monday when one of his GOP foot soldiers crossed enemy lines.

John Pappageorge marched over to fellow Sen. Tupac Hunter on the Senate floor and bellowed, "C'mon, let's go home."

But the Democrat didn't budge, and he didn't vote on the budget."Tell him to stay on the other side of the aisle," he hollered, just a half-hour after the last near-fisticuffs on the floor.

It would be another 26 minutes before the last vote hit the board at 4:18 a.m., much to the chagrin of yawning staffers and reporters.The skirmish was over a new services tax, the first shot Gen. Jennifer Granholm had fired when negotiations commenced in February.

The Democratic governor finally marshaled the troops, first twisting the arm of Republican Rep. Chris Ward on the income tax. Her next target was AWOL Democratic Sen. Glenn Anderson, who was quivering in the back room as a blue-jean-clad Granholm strutted across the chamber.

"Where is he?" she demanded with the moxie of Douglas MacArthur.

She got her man. Seconds after Anderson pushed the button for the service tax, Republicans fell in line and our long state budget nightmare was over.

In bleary-eyed hindsight, Granholm looked to have executed a flawless strategy.

Even consternated conservatives conceded victory after the Dems triumphantly impaled the GOP's no-tax mantra, hoisting a bounty of $1.35 billion in new revenue.

Granholm didn't even bother to hold a news conference right afterward, letting the results speak for themselves.

In reality, she got lucky after months of bitter brinkmanship. And to the victor go the political spoils.Truth is, Republicans couldn't pull the trigger.

Even the GOP-controlled Senate could only muster up $600 million worth of cuts — a far cry from the $1.8 billion deficit. In the end, Bishop had an easier time selling income- and sales-tax boosts to his soldiers than even that level of cuts.

Proving that although Republicans hate raising taxes, they hate cutting spending even more.

Everyone is gung-ho for cuts until they hit home. Then lawmakers aren't so keen on moms, teachers, seniors and CEOs banging on their office doors.

Take the $500 million the House cleaved from business tax breaks. Sounds great until you read the fine print, that without exemptions, Battle Creek's Duncan Aviation would high-tail it out of this state.

The reality is, no one in Lansing truly was itching to raise taxes. It was simple arithmetic. After more than a decade of cutting taxes and raiding funds while the state's economy tanked, the bills came due this year.

Proposals to gash spending fell far short of the deficit, like paring welfare and employee salaries, or were deemed unfeasible, like slashing prisons and schools.

That's because, year after year, we've already chopped higher ed, community health, K-12 schools and child-protective services. State government has the fewest employees since the 1970s.

Michigan's budget doesn't work like the feds', packed full of pork (or earmarks when they're in your district) and can (and does) run in the red year after year.

We don't have that luxury.

Maybe legislators finally had an attack of common sense in the blue hours of Monday morning.Or maybe they were just sick of sleeping in their cars after 17 straight days of battle.

Whatever the reason, Michigan dodged a ruinous government shutdown with the extreme last-minute budget deal — and that is good news for all.

The bad news is, legislators passed a hodgepodge of bills no one's even bothered to read, and they'll now have to spend the next 30 days working out the kinks. We can only hope the flaws won't mean the Wolverine State will face another critically out-of-whack budget next year.

For now, bruised lawmakers have left the battlefield in search of showers and Scotch.They said they were fighting for Michigan — but their backbiting and infighting has only further jeopardized the state's future.

"In a true compromise, no one can claim victory," Sen. Mark Schauer said without a hint of a smile late Sunday night.

After this debacle, no one in Lansing should.

On swine and spines

Right now, jittery state lawmakers are wishing the anti-bullying legislation they passed this spring applied to one Leon Drolet.

Drolet, the elfin former Republican state representative, has reinvented himself as chair of the Michigan Taxpayers Alliance, fond of stalking his old colleagues with a half-ton foam pig named Mr. Perks.

Considering a tax increase to give kids better schools? Mr. Perks and his adorable corkscrew tail beseech you to reconsider.

It's good, old-fashioned third-grade fun by a bunch of guys who haven't quite grasped the concept that evil taxpayer dollars allow us to flush dookie down the toilet.

But now the mirthful Mr. Drolet has turned serious, evidently intent on earning his $39,000 salary, more than half the alliance's funds, Gongwer news service reports.

(One does have to admire Drolet's conservative work ethic. When life gives you term limits, find a think tank, run back to the Macomb County Board of Commissioners from which you came and end up almost matching your sweet $79,000 Lansing salary — sans perks.)

Drolet is gearing up to file recall petitions against 10 Democratic and Republican legislators in swing districts (can you say politically motivated?) to browbeat them into supporting his group's extremist anti-tax agenda.

If need be, Drolet says he'll go after 20 more.Just what we need, to hemorrhage more moderate, reasonable voices in politics, just for doing what they think is right to represent the people of their district and the state of Michigan.

Nine times out of 10, recalls are an ill-conceived scare tactic — a waste of time and money. They should be reserved for cases of rampant illegality when the bum refuses to step down.

What we could face next year is total electoral chaos.State Democratic Party Chair Mark Brewer has vowed to recall two Republicans for every Democrat. Not to be outdone, the Michigan GOP is floating a recall of Gov. Jennifer Granholm to motivate the base, throwing the presidential and state House races the Republicans' way.

This takes politicking to a whole new level of insanity, thanks to people allergic to making prudent policy.And it's superfluous. Despite last year's Democratic tsunami, it's not all doom and gloom for the GOP, which could still win in '08 fair and square.

If Michigan-native Mitt Romney is the presidential nominee, he could easily take the state — and thus the Electoral College. The trickle-down effect in state House races could restore GOP control.

Plus, the Dems could deliver a surprise Christmas gift. If state Sen. Mark Schauer unseats U.S. Rep. Tim Walberg, R-Tipton, (an almost statistical impossibility if Romney's on the ballot) then his old seat is in the bag, thus bestowing the GOP with a healthy 22-16 majority till 2010.

No Democrat, not even those closest to Schauer, thinks the seat will hold.As for the budget, if you seriously believe the Legislature can solve the $1.8 billion shortfall by Sept. 30 without a modest tax increase, then you've spent too much time inhaling Mr. Perks' fumes.

Do the math. Of the $42 billion state budget, most is in restricted funds for things like road repair. The only funds in play are the $13 billion K-12 school aid and the $9 billion general.

Neither party wants to get tagged with hating children, so that leaves deep cuts to corrections, higher education, human services, local governments and community health.

Go ahead and further gut the Department of Human Services and feign surprise at the next Ricky Holland case — the savings still won't go very far.

Nobody's eager to let the bad guys out to shrink the bloated $1.9 billion prison budget. And even if we pillage the entire $1.9 billion from higher ed (Lansing's favorite whipping boy), we'd still run short next year because our Paleozoic tax code never raises the revenue intended.

This isn't tax-and-spend madness. It's trying to keep the Capitol's lights on and ensure the Mitten State has a future.For those morally offended by taxes, I suggest you declare the glorious Republic of Notaxistan in the hinterland, where perhaps Dick DeVos will subsidize your police and public works. Or maybe you'll be content to let the dookie run free.

As for our leaders in the real world, just do your job.

Try something new, like passing a budget and pertinent laws to grow jobs, broaden health care access and improve schools. Seems that would be better for your job security than bumbling around in a daze of fear and confusion.

After all, even Mr. Perks appears to have a spine.

Making government good again

Amidst breaking news of a fly fluttering onto Sen. Chris Dodd's Brillo-pad white hair during the 286th presidential debate this year, our primary system was imploding.

Michigan wants to play in the big leagues with a Jan. 15 primary, ratcheting up the absurdity level in an already ungodly long election season.It's a domino effect, forcing New Hampshire to nudge its primary to Jan. 8 and Iowa to catapult its caucus to somewhere in December — almost one year before the general election.

Both the Hawkeye and Granite states have laws jealously enshrining their first-in-the-nation status. After reporting on 2004's contest there, I can vouch that you'll pry their pre-eminence from their cold, dead hands.Critics say it's patently unfair for two small, white, rural states to hold so much electoral sway.

And they're right.

That's why we need wholesale election reform — because the primitive primary skirmish is just the tip of the iceberg.Here's what we need: publicly financed elections over 120 days. That's it — primary, conventions, general election — we're done. Kind of like how they do it in France, where 85 percent of people turned out in May's presidential vote, shaming the United States' five-decade high of 64 percent in 2004.

Four months is enough time for politicians to get down to real issues while voters actually are paying attention.

While we're at it, let's restore the Fairness Doctrine. Then the nattering talking heads would have to give equal time to positions and candidates, and adequately inform the electorate. (No word on which job(s) City Commission candidate/U.S. Rep. Tim Walberg aide/WBCK host Chris Simmons would have to surrender.)

And let's go for broke: Redistricting by nonpartisan panels from coast to coast, not by the party that controls the Legislature when the census is taken, as is the case in Michigan. The idea that most congressional seats are safely Republican or Democratic, leaving only about 40 competitive seats per cycle, seems kind of undemocratic ... don't you think?

Of course, the sheer sanity of these measures means they're doomed.

But schemes like those of bitter conservative lawyers aiming to capture California's elusive Electoral College votes (because that whole "permanent Republican majority" thing didn't work out so well) probably will make it to the ballot. And it could pass.

During the past few decades, the Supreme Court has decimated any hint of good government reform in redistricting, equal time reporting and elections.In their most audacious decision, justices this year spayed and neutered the modest campaign finance act known as McCain-Feingold.

Money equals free speech in elections, the 5-4 decision says, just as the Founding Fathers intended.How proud Thomas Jefferson would be to see senators spending more time raising money than raising issues — or making policy.

It's a warped system that rewards those who don't have their priorities straight. Mitt Romney and Hillary Clinton smirk while shoveling barrels of cash into their campaigns, seeming giddy that we're on track to have our first $1 billion presidential race.

Here in the 7th District, fundraising is a way of life for Walberg, R-Tipton, who used to drum up dough for the Moody Bible Institute. If all else fails, he always has his steadfast sugar daddy, Washington anti-tax lobby Club for Growth.

Democratic state Sen. Mark Schauer is psyched to take him on, vowing to amass $3 million by next year. His chief of staff, Ken Brock, seemed to channel the odiousness of Karl Rove earlier this month, bragging that only Schauer can raise that kind of money, unlike "liberal, Jewish trial lawyer" David Nacht or "lazy" Jim Berryman, for whom Brock twice worked.

Meanwhile, in the district ... Kids are in danger of being kicked off a federal health insurance program, we could lose our Amtrak service and thousands more people are out of work.

Seems like there's a lot more work to be done besides hosting golf outings and $1,000-a-plate dinners.

Seems like we should be electing people who know better.

Schauer should sit this one out

Mark Schauer has rolled up his blue Oxford sleeves, ready to tackle Michigan's paralyzing budget deficit.

He says Democrats are serious about solving the $1.8 billion crunch — unlike Republicans who keep reneging on solutions, like Lucy yanking the football away from poor ole Charlie Brown.

Oh, and he's likely taking a stab at Congress. Not that raising $3 million to unseat an incumbent legislator will distract Schauer from his job as No. 2 in the state Senate.

Yes, everyone was shocked, shocked this month to learn Mr. Schauer wants to go to Washington. Ever since former U.S. Rep. Joe Schwarz fell to Tim Walberg in last summer's bloody GOP primary, Dems have sounded an anguished cry: "If only Mark had run."

Maybe that's why his political machine didn't do battle for Sharon Renier, the ne'er-do-well turkey farmer who last fall came within four points of beating Walberg anyway.

Schauer is now the Fred Thompson of the 7th District, undeclared but almost a lock to jump in. He's got star power in a crowded field.

On paper, the Bedford Township senator is everything the Democrats would want: smart, attractive, experienced, hardworking and well-connected.

But here's the problem.Michigan is facing its worst crisis in history, between the hemorrhaging auto industry, embarrassingly low college-graduation rates and a state government that lacks the dough to keep the lights on.

Schauer can't possibly accomplish more for the state as a freshman congressman — one out of 435 — than as minority leader of Michigan's upper chamber. He's Gov. Jennifer Granholm's go-to guy and the Dems' strongest voice on budget matters.

Leaders don't quit when the going gets tough. And make no doubt about it: Schauer will depart the Senate in spirit long before the 2008 election.

Running against Walberg and his unlimited Club for Growth war chest is more than a full-time job.

Right now, Schauer's constituents need him in Lansing.Most disappointingly, the senator seems fixated on strategy, not issues. In an interview this week from Israel, Schauer ticked off the economy, Iraq war and health care as major campaign issues.

He spent some time blasting Walberg for voting no on the minimum-wage hike and claiming credit for W.K. Kellogg Airport funding he voted against.

But Schauer's main argument was that he's the most electable candidate — everyone has told him so. There was no vision, no real fire for working for Michigan.

It wasn't the earnest voice of the small-town guy with that Ned Flanders mustache, who had run the Community Action Agency and upstart races for City Commission, state House and Senate because he wanted to serve.

It sounded like he'd swallowed the pill of politics as usual, fed by overweening advisers.

In the rush to defeat an ethically challenged congressman, politicians can't abandon their own principles.

It's fair to judge Walberg on how he's slickly dispatched his enemies, like Schwarz and former state Sen. Jim Berryman.

But it's also fair to judge Schauer on how he has treated both men, his friends during the past two decades.

When Berryman declared his candidacy in the 7th, Schauer was right behind him, swearing he'd never run himself. But he and his advisers abruptly decided Berryman didn't collect enough cash and figured Schauer could do better.

Schwarz has mulled a run — possibly as a Democrat — and polling shows he'd beat Walberg by three points. He's told Schauer he can't run for office until he wraps up chairing a nonpartisan, state health care commission this fall, but his old chum says Schwarz has missed the boat.

Though he vowed he'd never run against Schwarz, Schauer said he's now prepared to do just that.

The political game, as it's played today, dictates Schwarz and Berryman bow out if Schauer gets in. That's exactly what the senator's advisers are smugly counting on.

But even if Mark Schauer now believes the politics-as-usual mantra, his friends don't.Both are fighters. Berryman once debated Walberg 27 times in a state House race. Schwarz signed up for a stint in Vietnam and went back for more in the CIA.

If they think running for Congress is the right thing, they'll do it.

The only thing Schauer can count on is the 7th District race will be an interesting one. And it just may make him long for the tranquility of jousting with the GOP in Lansing.

If they only had a plan

After two weeks vacation, our Lansing leaders are no closer to discovering the Wonderful Wizard of Oz, who will magically solve the $1.6 billion budget deficit.

They've been stumbling down the yellow brick road since January, in fact, and still can't figure out which way to go.One path looks a lot like Dust Bowl-era Kansas — depressingly black and white, with the next twister right around the bend. Family farms are going belly-up, schools are ramshackle and downtowns are fast becoming ghost towns.

But at least the dang government is minding its own business.

The other path blooms in Technicolor — and if the gentle, wildflower-dotted hills don't quite look like Silicone Valley, it's at least Pennsylvania. After last week's partial government shutdown, the Keystone State promptly passed a budget boosting spending on schools, daycare and senior services.

Imagine that.

Of course, Michigan can just run out the clock until its Sept. 30 deadline. What's the worst that can happen? Record 7.2 percent unemployment? The continued exodus of business and bodies from our state?Stall on, Lansing. Budgets are hard work. And our leaders clearly don't like being on the surrealist journey together.Everyone's jockeying for first billing in this melodrama.

Gov. Jennifer Granholm plays Dorothy, the heavily rouged Democrat who thinks there's no place like home in Wayne County, where the McNamara machine would just take care of pesky tax questions for her.Senate Minority Leader Mark Schauer is Toto, Dorothy's loyal sidekick, cute enough to fit into a picnic basket. Occasionally, the Bedford Township Dem pokes his head out to nip at Senate Majority Leader Mike Bishop.

Bishop, R-Rochester, stars as the Tin Woodsman in need of a heart, who thinks nothing of slashing college funding and medical care for poor kids.

Is he trying to appease the Wicked Witch of Notaxistan lobby, whose Flying Monkey, former state Rep. Leon Drolet, hounds legislators with his gigantic, fiberglass pig? Or are dreams of the governor's mansion dancing in the boyish Bishop's head?

The Cowardly Lion is novice House Speaker Andy Dillon, D-Redford Township, who clearly needs a shot of courage after going into hiding during the last round of negotiations.

Lastly, there's easily overlooked House Minority Leader Craig DeRoche, aka Scarecrow, who still wistfully calls himself Speaker and can't add up the deficit right. The Novi Republican is just now cobbling together a task force to help him out.

Like it or not, this preening cast of characters is stuck with one another.And we're stuck with them.But if they need help, there's not just one Wizard to consult — there are a dozen from the bipartisan Emergency Financial Advisory Panel, chaired by former governors William Milliken and Jim Blanchard.

They put forth sensible ideas the overwhelming majority of Michiganders support — investing in schools, the arts and health care; modernizing the tax code; and reforming state employee benefits.Precious little of that has been done — save for the new Michigan Business Tax — even as an F-5 economic cyclone barrels through the state.

Now I lived in Iowa long enough, surviving three separate tornadoes, to know that if you choose to shut your eyes in the middle of a twister, it'll still heave your mangled body onto the nearest barn or farming implement.

Our problems aren't going away. The storm grows stronger each day.

But our leaders seem content to keep using the budget as political theater, knowing they can always take cover in their tax shelters.

Right now, too many in Lansing see the world in black and white. It's up to us to tell them we'd rather live in Technicolor.

High school attitude ruling the State House

Washington may be Hollywood for ugly people, but it's the bickering beautiful people who reign today in Lansing.

The Capitol is at the mercy of the callow cool crowd from high school — the jocks, cheerleaders and Future Business Leaders of America who made sure their mugs were splattered on every yearbook page.

But they never really did anything.

That's not going to fly in Michigan right now.

We hold the embarrassing distinction as the only state with a negative credit rating from Standard & Poor's, because smug legislators slew the $1.9 billion Single Business Tax last year without bothering to replace it.

Right now, we're running out of time to plug a $900 million hole in this year's budget. And then it's off to tackling the $3 billion shortfall projected for next year.

What Michigan needs right now is leadership.

We didn't get it Thursday.

No, instead we're treated to the tiresome antics of Senate Majority Leader Mike Bishop and Gov. Jennifer Granholm, our very own homecoming king and queen sparring for the spotlight on the tacky gymnasium stage.

On Feb. 8, the immaculately-coiffed Democratic guv smiled at the crowd, trumpeting her budget plan complete with a $500 million business tax cut and a 2-percent tax on services.
Sniggering Republicans said they'd think about it, while House Minority Leader Craig DeRoche slapped a "Kick Me" sign on beleaguered Budget Director Bob Emerson's back.

Granholm, fresh off a landslide victory for her final term, still seems oddly paralyzed by Sally Field syndrome. She'd rather have people like her than make tough decisions in a truly comprehensive plan to save the state.

On Valentine's Day, the aqua-eyed Bishop dumped Granholm YouTube ninja style, announcing the GOP-led Appropriations Committee had rejected her executive order out of hand.

Mike felt betrayed by Jen, who would never return his calls. And he wanted his Duran Duran tape back.

The next week, Bishop proclaimed he'd solved the budget crisis sans tax hike in his super-secret plan, evidently ditching that day of history class on Richard Nixon's fictitious one to get U.S. troops out of Vietnam.

Bishop's main goal isn't to solve this fiscal train wreck. He'd rather tag Granholm with this mess and coast to the governor's mansion in 2010 John Engler-style.

Waiting in the wings is House Speaker Andy Dillon, the slick-haired student body president who's friends with everyone. He flirts with Jen in calculus but still cracks open a beer with football buddy Mike after practice.

Leaving the role of Granholm's cheerleader to Senate Minority Leader Mark Schauer, Dillon came out last week with ideas no one can argue with, such as cutting legislator benefits.

Courted mercilessly by both sides, the Democrat clearly is relishing his role as the decider. He's willing to cut more services than Granholm but raise taxes more than Bishop — as long as the final compromise won't jeopardize his control of the House next year.

By the end of last week, the homecoming king had stopped talking to the student body president, and both were miffed the homecoming queen had jetted off to Germany.

Thursday, Granholm issued her executive order with $344 million in cuts. Bishop had already determined she didn't go far enough and led the Senate effort to slash schools by $34 per student. They're no closer to a deal.

And so the political posturing goes.

The frustrating part is that it doesn't have to be this way.

Ambitious, astute and all under 50, the Capitol cool crowd isn't wonting for talent. As a reporter, I've found all three eager to talk policy; where they falter is in solutions.

With only 14 years combined state budget experience, the trio needs to book some serious time with the old bulls who have been through this before. Say, the tragically underused members of Granholm's own bipartisan Emergency Financial Advisory Panel.

They might not look as pretty on TV, but they know Michigan has to reform employee benefits, invest in higher education and restructure outmoded taxes to build a better budget and a stronger state.

One thing is clear: The longer our leaders wait, the worse things get.

Entrepreneurs are refusing to set up shop in a state lacking a clear business tax structure. Poor children don't know if they'll still have health care. Students wonder if their schools can afford to stay open. Prison guards don't know if they'll have jobs.

Granholm, Bishop and Dillon have to decide if they like playing politics or if they love this state.

It's one or the other.

Ten million Michiganders await their answer.