Oh, sweet irony. We coulda been a contender.
Michigan’s much-vaunted Jan. 15 primary has ultimately proved useless. So much for power-drunk party hucksters insisting Michigan show those spoiled brats in Iowa and New Hampshire how to really pick a president.
California fittingly will have sealed up the Republican nomination - once again trumping Michigan, which has long hemorrhaged talent and influence to the Golden State.
And slow and steady Ohio on March 4 – or even once-obscure contests in Kentucky and Oregon in May – will have super-sized impact on picking the Democratic nominee.
Stop for a second and imagine the media frenzy in the Mitten State right now if we’d just kept our Feb. 12 contest on the calendar.
We would be ground zero, boasting the biggest primary after Super Tuesday.
For the GOP, Michigan would be hailed as the salvation of Mitt Romney. If he won his home state (his 23rd by last count, as his electoral strategy seems to rest on buying estates in every state) the race would be declared wide open by the talk radio hordes.
Erudite philosophers Rush Limbaugh and Ann Coulter would rejoice the party wasn’t over yet, thanks to their prescience (of course) and the glorious Great Lakes State.
For the Dems, it would be a decisive battle between the Clinton machine (oiled by Gov. Jennifer Granholm) and the grassroots Barack Obama effort. Whoever could take the lion’s share of our 128-delegate gift basket would emerge the frontrunner.
Michigan’s early primary was erected as Hillary Clinton’s firewall, but it would have been far handier now that she’s broke, dead-even in delegates and facing an electoral map favoring Obama.
So how did Michigan plunge to its default position of irrelevance to the rest of the nation?
Last year, we ponied up more than $10 million for an early primary when we could least afford it, given a $2 billion deficit. But party bigwigs promised if we hold it, they will come.
We all know how that turned out on the D side. There were no rap sessions with a teary Hillary or hope revivals starring Obama. John Edwards never showed up for photo ops at mill closings. Only the leprechaun-like Dennis Kucinich held rallies dotted by those yearning for a glimpse of his glamazon, 20-something wife.
The Dems blew it, thanks to Sen. Carl Levin and Democratic National Committeewoman Debbie Dingell. The DNC jerked all our delegates, followed by Obama and Edwards bowing out.
Senate Democrats could have fixed the mess but demanded a bevy of election reforms in return, which the majority Republicans rejected.
So Hillary won the beauty contest 55 to 40 percent over “uncommitted” or ABC – Anyone But Clinton. But her deficit in the youth vote and staggering loss in Detroit spell trouble here in the general election.
Whichever Dem prevails will have to do serious repair work, having unwittingly left the door open for the moderate McCain. Good move.
The only way to undo some damage is hold a party-funded caucus in a play to win half our delegates back.
Republicans fared better, drawing belated ads and candidate stops as state GOP Chair Saul Anuzis promised. But the primary became a yawning gimme for Romney with only half the Republican delegates at stake.
“Michigan is a good bellwether state,” proclaimed a giddy Anuzis (who still says with as straight face that he doesn’t back the Mittster). “If you can win in Michigan, you can win everywhere.”
Not quite.
The primary allowed party honchos and legislators to bask in the Cult of Mitt for one shining night, partying down like Ronald Reagan had been reincarnated at the Southfield Embassy Suites. It was the zenith of Romney’s run - and then the rude awakening came in South Carolina, Florida and finally California.
So where did our primary hustle get us? Optimists would say Michigan - with its shuttered factories and worst unemployment rate - crystallized the souring economy as the top political issue.
That’s one takeaway from the clichéd CNN interviews of unemployed autoworkers at a smoky Macomb County bowling alley.
Here’s the other: Michigan must be the most pathetic place on earth to do business next to, say, Burma. Why would companies want to set up shop in our decrepit state?
As Oakland County Executive L. Brooks Patterson, the patron saint of Michigan economic development, watched the nonstop negative coverage, he probably thought long and hard about retiring.
In the end, the economy is the primary problem we face. No matter how hard the governor hopes, President Bush isn’t going to send us a fat check now that he’s seen our plight on tee-vee.
No, it’s up to us. And I’m guessing we could have found far better investments for that 10 million bucks.
Showing posts with label economy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label economy. Show all posts
Friday, February 8, 2008
Sunday, February 3, 2008
The ‘09 budget: Let them eat cake
Nobody can feel your pain like Jennifer Granholm and she was in fine form Tuesday night.
After last year’s rancor and recriminations over the budget crisis, the governor reemerged at the State of the State as the great healer, a pro-business prophet looking to lure development and lead us back to the promised land of no new taxes.
“People are angry,” Granholm said at the start of her speech. “…Let’s be honest, that anger is aimed at us.”
Though Michigan continues to careen down the road of recession, Granholm offered up her can-do oratory, promising tax breaks for businesses in fast-growing industries, help for those trapped in foreclosure agony and a slew of new programs.
Using her honeyed tone – part cheerleader, part Mother Earth – to full effect, the governor swayed some of her conservative critics (though not state Rep. Jack Hoogendyk, R-Kalamazoo, who in a flash of class, scrawled snarky blog posts during her speech).
Granholm imbibed the new designer drug of bipartisanship – something just about everyone in Lansing says they’re on, but they don’t get an hour to testify about it on tee-vee. You can’t beat that kind of PR.
But the real stroke of genius was that the governor cannily cut the legs from under the GOP’ election strategy – with a smile.
She beat the anti-tax drum hard – something a beaming Senate Majority Leader Mike Bishop called “borrowing the Republican playbook.”
But that effectively stole the thunder from House Minority Leader Craig DeRoche, who’s vowed to take back the majority by (what else?) hitting the Dems on taxes. He looked particularly sour Tuesday, but denied the guv had outfoxed him.
“It’s not an election line (for us),” the former Speaker sniffed. “It’s what we believe in.”
Granholm’s strategy started with a carefully placed Associated Press interview in December that grabbed headlines across the state.
“The most important thing I learned is I’m not ever going to raise taxes again. It’s too hard. It’s too impossible,” she declared.
She could say that with supreme confidence because budget estimates show Michigan will stay in the black this year (thanks to those evil tax hikes).
So it’s time to roll out the feel-good programs – high schools that work, alternative energy Centers of Excellence and more early childhood education.
You can have your cake and eat it, too. No higher taxes this year, just “creative financing.” (Something Republicans also found irresistible when they ran the show during the last two decades – beats cutting spending).
Granholm plans to scrounge up $550 million by refinancing debt, selling bonds and reinvesting part of the state pension fund.
Her economic stimulus plan – especially creating jobs through much-needed infrastructure projects – shows promise. But don’t expect a big boost to higher ed, the best long-range economic development tool Michigan has in its arsenal.
And there were key pieces missing from the puzzle, ostensibly to come in the far less glamorous budget unveiling next week.
Where are the cuts? Where are the reforms? You don’t need to be a rabid right-winger to know much more needs to be done.
Just take another read of the blue-ribbon, bipartisan Emergency Financial Panel report penned a year ago by 12 leaders with hundreds of years’ combined experience in budgets, business and government.
Or in the case of some esteemed lawmakers, try skimming over the scant 19 pages for the first time.
“I honestly don’t know how many people read it,” a glum former Gov. Jim Blanchard told me last week.
Well, it’s never too late to get religion or give a few of the 12 Apostles a jingle. I have it on good authority they’d love to hear from you.
The fact is, Michigan’s government is still engineered for the 1960s. We have a bloated Corrections budget growing far faster than revenues, as we incarcerate 50,000 people – and counting.
Health care costs for state employees and retirees are spiraling out of control. We have 1,242 townships, 553 school districts and millions of dollars in needlessly duplicated administrative costs.
That’s just a start. With the limited cash Michigan has, we need to spend it wisely.
Now the bad news. Don’t look now, but the Mitten State hasn’t licked its structural budget deficit.
We don’t tax services, the growing sector of our economy, thanks to a bizarre last-minute plan last fall that enraged the hypersensitive business community and poisoned the well. It remains to be seen what effect the Michigan Business Tax surcharge will have on attracting new capital. And our income tax is outmoded – a graduated rate with more exemptions is a better fit.
The good news is, we probably could restructure without hiking taxes and stave off future $2 billion budget shortfalls.
But that would mean bringing up the dreaded t-word again. And with that bodacious bipartisan vibe we’ve got going, who wants to be a major buzzkill?
After last year’s rancor and recriminations over the budget crisis, the governor reemerged at the State of the State as the great healer, a pro-business prophet looking to lure development and lead us back to the promised land of no new taxes.
“People are angry,” Granholm said at the start of her speech. “…Let’s be honest, that anger is aimed at us.”
Though Michigan continues to careen down the road of recession, Granholm offered up her can-do oratory, promising tax breaks for businesses in fast-growing industries, help for those trapped in foreclosure agony and a slew of new programs.
Using her honeyed tone – part cheerleader, part Mother Earth – to full effect, the governor swayed some of her conservative critics (though not state Rep. Jack Hoogendyk, R-Kalamazoo, who in a flash of class, scrawled snarky blog posts during her speech).
Granholm imbibed the new designer drug of bipartisanship – something just about everyone in Lansing says they’re on, but they don’t get an hour to testify about it on tee-vee. You can’t beat that kind of PR.
But the real stroke of genius was that the governor cannily cut the legs from under the GOP’ election strategy – with a smile.
She beat the anti-tax drum hard – something a beaming Senate Majority Leader Mike Bishop called “borrowing the Republican playbook.”
But that effectively stole the thunder from House Minority Leader Craig DeRoche, who’s vowed to take back the majority by (what else?) hitting the Dems on taxes. He looked particularly sour Tuesday, but denied the guv had outfoxed him.
“It’s not an election line (for us),” the former Speaker sniffed. “It’s what we believe in.”
Granholm’s strategy started with a carefully placed Associated Press interview in December that grabbed headlines across the state.
“The most important thing I learned is I’m not ever going to raise taxes again. It’s too hard. It’s too impossible,” she declared.
She could say that with supreme confidence because budget estimates show Michigan will stay in the black this year (thanks to those evil tax hikes).
So it’s time to roll out the feel-good programs – high schools that work, alternative energy Centers of Excellence and more early childhood education.
You can have your cake and eat it, too. No higher taxes this year, just “creative financing.” (Something Republicans also found irresistible when they ran the show during the last two decades – beats cutting spending).
Granholm plans to scrounge up $550 million by refinancing debt, selling bonds and reinvesting part of the state pension fund.
Her economic stimulus plan – especially creating jobs through much-needed infrastructure projects – shows promise. But don’t expect a big boost to higher ed, the best long-range economic development tool Michigan has in its arsenal.
And there were key pieces missing from the puzzle, ostensibly to come in the far less glamorous budget unveiling next week.
Where are the cuts? Where are the reforms? You don’t need to be a rabid right-winger to know much more needs to be done.
Just take another read of the blue-ribbon, bipartisan Emergency Financial Panel report penned a year ago by 12 leaders with hundreds of years’ combined experience in budgets, business and government.
Or in the case of some esteemed lawmakers, try skimming over the scant 19 pages for the first time.
“I honestly don’t know how many people read it,” a glum former Gov. Jim Blanchard told me last week.
Well, it’s never too late to get religion or give a few of the 12 Apostles a jingle. I have it on good authority they’d love to hear from you.
The fact is, Michigan’s government is still engineered for the 1960s. We have a bloated Corrections budget growing far faster than revenues, as we incarcerate 50,000 people – and counting.
Health care costs for state employees and retirees are spiraling out of control. We have 1,242 townships, 553 school districts and millions of dollars in needlessly duplicated administrative costs.
That’s just a start. With the limited cash Michigan has, we need to spend it wisely.
Now the bad news. Don’t look now, but the Mitten State hasn’t licked its structural budget deficit.
We don’t tax services, the growing sector of our economy, thanks to a bizarre last-minute plan last fall that enraged the hypersensitive business community and poisoned the well. It remains to be seen what effect the Michigan Business Tax surcharge will have on attracting new capital. And our income tax is outmoded – a graduated rate with more exemptions is a better fit.
The good news is, we probably could restructure without hiking taxes and stave off future $2 billion budget shortfalls.
But that would mean bringing up the dreaded t-word again. And with that bodacious bipartisan vibe we’ve got going, who wants to be a major buzzkill?
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Mitt won’t work miracles for Michigan
Bad news, kiddies.
I know Uncle Mitt - who you haven’t seen since Cher and bell bottoms were mod - missed you very much and came bearing gifts last week.
He was so sorry he’d abandoned the auto industry his dad championed to make millions in international markets (though you know he’s too proud to admit it).
And he felt real bad about missing your birthday, tiger.
Brandishing that can-do smile and the sincerity of a 1970s game show host, our man Mitt promised the return of fab ‘50s-style manufacturing jobs, $20 billion in federal aid and a pony for everybody in the Mitten State.
Groovy. Only it ain’t gonna happen.
Meanwhile, mean old John McCain - who spent a chunk of the Me Decade tortured by the North Vietnamese (bummer) - told us some of those jobs aren’t coming back. Instead, we need to harness Michigan’s world-class college system and invest in emerging technologies like green energy.
Reality, man. It’s a bummer, too.
So the majority of voters in Tuesday’s GOP primary decided to deny the realities of the new economy. The Mittster was their man.
As a Harvard MBA, Romney, of course, knows McCain and virtually every economist in Michigan is correct. But selling “optimism” and the now-ubiquitous commodity of “change” makes for better sound bites.
McCain employed the dicey strategy of holding town hall meetings across the state in which he openly invites people to spar with him, unlike any other presidential hopeful.
Oh, how they did Sunday in the right-wing hotbed of Howell – on stripping citizenship from American-born kids of illegal immigrants, President Bush’s tax cuts, campaign finance reform and more.
But the thousand-strong crowd respected him and erupted in a frenzy. Honesty can inspire.
If his advisors had let McCain be McCain and do more of those events in Michigan over the last year – instead of endless fundraisers, party establishment schmoozing and confabs with anti-tax zealots working to unravel his candidacy – I think the primary would have gone quite differently.
Contrast McCain with Romney, who ginned up emotion Saturday at a kitchen table chat with an unemployed Marshall worker. The catch? It was a set-up with a staffer’s mom, something Marvelous Mitt forgot to tell the media (oops!)
Evidently, integrity is an overvalued asset in this CEO’s campaign.
Romney also got a pass on his Michigan roots (though he tastelessly reminded us on the stump his parents are buried here). In reality, the heavily hair-sprayed tycoon is the poster child for the brain drain we’re all supposed to revile.
As the former baron of Bain Capital, Romney perhaps instinctively knew staying in his home state was a bad risk as the auto industry nosedived, so he headed off, curiously enough, to the place all good Republicans jeer as Taxachusetts.
Now running as an outsider (the most hackneyed theme in politics), Romney says he’ll shake up Washington and stand up for Michigan. This, of course, underscores the fact that Bush doesn’t give a damn about the Big Three – he refused to meet with them for years.
But the most pro-Bush voters and the fiscal delusionists ganged up to vote Romney, according to exit polls. Go figure.
They’re about as consistent as their candidate, who’s amusingly stalked by a dude dressed as a dolphin named “Flip Romney” to highlight his pliable positions on abortion, immigration, stem-cell research, gay marriage and government health care.
Malleable Mitt has a new campaign theme for every state, as well as a shiny, new multi-million-dollar attack ad buy. In Michigan, he outspent McCain at least 3 to 1.
Romney is who you want him to be. Someone get the schizophrenic candidate a psychiatrist, stat.
But there’s one thing Romney is remarkably consistent on: military service. It wasn’t for him (God bless missionary and student deferments).
A hawk on the Vietnam War (and now Iraq), he was no principled conscientious objector. To fervently support a war without feeling any call to sacrifice is the worst form of hypocrisy and cowardice.
Service isn’t for any of his five strapping sons, either. But fighting terrorists isn’t the only way to fortify America.
As Mitt merrily explained last summer, “One of the ways my sons are showing support for our nation is helping me get elected because they think I'd be a great president.”
Mitt comes first. Only then can we get to that pesky maxim of “duty, honor, country” Gen. Douglas MacArthur noted builds courage, character and hope in a man.
So, boys and girls, what exactly do you think President Romney’s commitment will be to the state he skeddadled from five decades ago?
My advice: Don’t cash that check yet, Michigan. Somehow, I doubt your native son’s good for it.
I know Uncle Mitt - who you haven’t seen since Cher and bell bottoms were mod - missed you very much and came bearing gifts last week.
He was so sorry he’d abandoned the auto industry his dad championed to make millions in international markets (though you know he’s too proud to admit it).
And he felt real bad about missing your birthday, tiger.
Brandishing that can-do smile and the sincerity of a 1970s game show host, our man Mitt promised the return of fab ‘50s-style manufacturing jobs, $20 billion in federal aid and a pony for everybody in the Mitten State.
Groovy. Only it ain’t gonna happen.
Meanwhile, mean old John McCain - who spent a chunk of the Me Decade tortured by the North Vietnamese (bummer) - told us some of those jobs aren’t coming back. Instead, we need to harness Michigan’s world-class college system and invest in emerging technologies like green energy.
Reality, man. It’s a bummer, too.
So the majority of voters in Tuesday’s GOP primary decided to deny the realities of the new economy. The Mittster was their man.
As a Harvard MBA, Romney, of course, knows McCain and virtually every economist in Michigan is correct. But selling “optimism” and the now-ubiquitous commodity of “change” makes for better sound bites.
McCain employed the dicey strategy of holding town hall meetings across the state in which he openly invites people to spar with him, unlike any other presidential hopeful.
Oh, how they did Sunday in the right-wing hotbed of Howell – on stripping citizenship from American-born kids of illegal immigrants, President Bush’s tax cuts, campaign finance reform and more.
But the thousand-strong crowd respected him and erupted in a frenzy. Honesty can inspire.
If his advisors had let McCain be McCain and do more of those events in Michigan over the last year – instead of endless fundraisers, party establishment schmoozing and confabs with anti-tax zealots working to unravel his candidacy – I think the primary would have gone quite differently.
Contrast McCain with Romney, who ginned up emotion Saturday at a kitchen table chat with an unemployed Marshall worker. The catch? It was a set-up with a staffer’s mom, something Marvelous Mitt forgot to tell the media (oops!)
Evidently, integrity is an overvalued asset in this CEO’s campaign.
Romney also got a pass on his Michigan roots (though he tastelessly reminded us on the stump his parents are buried here). In reality, the heavily hair-sprayed tycoon is the poster child for the brain drain we’re all supposed to revile.
As the former baron of Bain Capital, Romney perhaps instinctively knew staying in his home state was a bad risk as the auto industry nosedived, so he headed off, curiously enough, to the place all good Republicans jeer as Taxachusetts.
Now running as an outsider (the most hackneyed theme in politics), Romney says he’ll shake up Washington and stand up for Michigan. This, of course, underscores the fact that Bush doesn’t give a damn about the Big Three – he refused to meet with them for years.
But the most pro-Bush voters and the fiscal delusionists ganged up to vote Romney, according to exit polls. Go figure.
They’re about as consistent as their candidate, who’s amusingly stalked by a dude dressed as a dolphin named “Flip Romney” to highlight his pliable positions on abortion, immigration, stem-cell research, gay marriage and government health care.
Malleable Mitt has a new campaign theme for every state, as well as a shiny, new multi-million-dollar attack ad buy. In Michigan, he outspent McCain at least 3 to 1.
Romney is who you want him to be. Someone get the schizophrenic candidate a psychiatrist, stat.
But there’s one thing Romney is remarkably consistent on: military service. It wasn’t for him (God bless missionary and student deferments).
A hawk on the Vietnam War (and now Iraq), he was no principled conscientious objector. To fervently support a war without feeling any call to sacrifice is the worst form of hypocrisy and cowardice.
Service isn’t for any of his five strapping sons, either. But fighting terrorists isn’t the only way to fortify America.
As Mitt merrily explained last summer, “One of the ways my sons are showing support for our nation is helping me get elected because they think I'd be a great president.”
Mitt comes first. Only then can we get to that pesky maxim of “duty, honor, country” Gen. Douglas MacArthur noted builds courage, character and hope in a man.
So, boys and girls, what exactly do you think President Romney’s commitment will be to the state he skeddadled from five decades ago?
My advice: Don’t cash that check yet, Michigan. Somehow, I doubt your native son’s good for it.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Could hope spring eternal from tax compromise?
Hail to the victors.
And in this case, that’d be Mike Bishop and his Senate Republicans.
Say what you will about the ever-tan, GQ-attired Senate majority leader (this columnist has, for the record, skewered him as the Tin Woodsman and high school Homecoming king) - but the man got it done last week.
The scorned service tax is no more, replaced by a GOP-crafted surcharge on the Michigan Business Tax. The deal went down 48 hours after all hope seemed siphoned from the Capitol.
The turning point was when Democratic House Speaker Andy Dillon on Nov. 28 caved to his caucus, which voted for a plan the Senate would never sign off on and planned to split for six days.
While the Dems’ plan wasn’t unreasonable – it was actually more fiscally responsible – their bravado unwittingly gave the GOP the upper hand.
Incensed and indignant, Bishop and Sens. Jud Gilbert, R-Algonac, and Mark Jansen, R-Grand Rapids, marched into the leadership void.
"In my eight years in the Legislature, I've never seen anything that was such a violation of trust," Gilbert seethed.
Now after 11 straight months of backstabbing, bluster and brainlessness, that’s hard to swallow. Nonetheless, negotiations nosedived to another low, paving the way for an even more agonizing budget showdown next year against the backdrop of the 2008 election.
In the end, the GOP nabbed a sunset for the new MBT tax and a lower rate while raiding a rainy day fund, their favorite pastime.
Yes, Gov. Jennifer Granholm won out on revenue-neutrality – supposedly – and furiously negotiated behind the scenes. But her motivation seemed muddled – was it to demolish a bad tax she’d once succored or to slap down Dillon, her perennial rival?
So Republicans emerged the heroes for slaying the service tax just when it seemed certain it would stay on the books.
Bishop’s power was buttressed by the bill passing almost unanimously in the Senate – despite Democrats’ yowling that they’d been shut out of the process – and by a wide margin in the House.
Though Granholm clearly won the main budget battle back on Oct. 1, those are numbers she could only dream of. Which is why the GOP keeps chanting the service tax and income tax hike are “the Democrats’ plan.”
But rather than be statesmanlike about his triumph, the bitter Bishop afterward again slammed the House, declaring there was “no excuse for any legislators to have turned their back on” the process. The governor at least gets better grades for graciousness in the last round.
Yet Bishop’s phrasing is curious. Note that he doesn’t single out House Dems, because Minority Leader Craig DeRoche, R-Novi, was (surprise) MIA in the mediation, as he has been all year.
DeRoche’s sole goal seems to be carrying water for a few whack-jobs in the state GOP and the intelligent, but indelibly ideological folks at the free-market Mackinac Center for Public Policy.
Bizarrely, this is how he justified his loathing of the deal that was practically penned by the business community: “To say (it) supports this plan is like saying that a death row inmate chooses the firing squad over the electric chair.”
Contrast DeRoche’s denial and disconnect with Bishop, who’s been a player from the beginning.
Now for the downtrodden Dems, here’s the silver lining.
The business tax hike is now a bonified bipartisan baby – 65 percent of legislators flicked the switch for it. Rather than slash spending, Senate Republicans championed a plan that hiked taxes on a core constituency.
Yeah, they spin it as cut over the sales tax – something we’ll never know for sure since the whipping boy is dead. But as diehard conservatives intone, a tax is a tax is a tax.
What this means is that right-wing interests aren’t as apt to ardently rally ‘round the Republicans next year. That could serve as a cushion for Democrats, who sprint out the gate late thanks to a botched, meaningless Jan. 15 presidential primary.
The across-the-aisle deal also could sap the wind from the sails of the recall movement, whose money and momentum was spurred by the reviled service tax.
The anti-tax zealots - who appear to worship at the altar of his immense foaminess, Mr. Perks, instead of our Lord and savior, Jesus Christ – have always hunted Dems and a few token Republicans who really irked them. Watch their fervor and funds dry up at the prospect of taking out so many of their own.
In the end, what truly matters is leaders of both parties came together and did something constructive. It wasn’t great policy and it wasn’t without ego, rancorous rhetoric or excruciating delay.
(“We’re trying to forge world peace,” Sen. Jason Allen, R-Traverse City, cracked Friday afternoon.)
Could be a start. The odds are long, but this is the season of hope, after all.
And in this case, that’d be Mike Bishop and his Senate Republicans.
Say what you will about the ever-tan, GQ-attired Senate majority leader (this columnist has, for the record, skewered him as the Tin Woodsman and high school Homecoming king) - but the man got it done last week.
The scorned service tax is no more, replaced by a GOP-crafted surcharge on the Michigan Business Tax. The deal went down 48 hours after all hope seemed siphoned from the Capitol.
The turning point was when Democratic House Speaker Andy Dillon on Nov. 28 caved to his caucus, which voted for a plan the Senate would never sign off on and planned to split for six days.
While the Dems’ plan wasn’t unreasonable – it was actually more fiscally responsible – their bravado unwittingly gave the GOP the upper hand.
Incensed and indignant, Bishop and Sens. Jud Gilbert, R-Algonac, and Mark Jansen, R-Grand Rapids, marched into the leadership void.
"In my eight years in the Legislature, I've never seen anything that was such a violation of trust," Gilbert seethed.
Now after 11 straight months of backstabbing, bluster and brainlessness, that’s hard to swallow. Nonetheless, negotiations nosedived to another low, paving the way for an even more agonizing budget showdown next year against the backdrop of the 2008 election.
In the end, the GOP nabbed a sunset for the new MBT tax and a lower rate while raiding a rainy day fund, their favorite pastime.
Yes, Gov. Jennifer Granholm won out on revenue-neutrality – supposedly – and furiously negotiated behind the scenes. But her motivation seemed muddled – was it to demolish a bad tax she’d once succored or to slap down Dillon, her perennial rival?
So Republicans emerged the heroes for slaying the service tax just when it seemed certain it would stay on the books.
Bishop’s power was buttressed by the bill passing almost unanimously in the Senate – despite Democrats’ yowling that they’d been shut out of the process – and by a wide margin in the House.
Though Granholm clearly won the main budget battle back on Oct. 1, those are numbers she could only dream of. Which is why the GOP keeps chanting the service tax and income tax hike are “the Democrats’ plan.”
But rather than be statesmanlike about his triumph, the bitter Bishop afterward again slammed the House, declaring there was “no excuse for any legislators to have turned their back on” the process. The governor at least gets better grades for graciousness in the last round.
Yet Bishop’s phrasing is curious. Note that he doesn’t single out House Dems, because Minority Leader Craig DeRoche, R-Novi, was (surprise) MIA in the mediation, as he has been all year.
DeRoche’s sole goal seems to be carrying water for a few whack-jobs in the state GOP and the intelligent, but indelibly ideological folks at the free-market Mackinac Center for Public Policy.
Bizarrely, this is how he justified his loathing of the deal that was practically penned by the business community: “To say (it) supports this plan is like saying that a death row inmate chooses the firing squad over the electric chair.”
Contrast DeRoche’s denial and disconnect with Bishop, who’s been a player from the beginning.
Now for the downtrodden Dems, here’s the silver lining.
The business tax hike is now a bonified bipartisan baby – 65 percent of legislators flicked the switch for it. Rather than slash spending, Senate Republicans championed a plan that hiked taxes on a core constituency.
Yeah, they spin it as cut over the sales tax – something we’ll never know for sure since the whipping boy is dead. But as diehard conservatives intone, a tax is a tax is a tax.
What this means is that right-wing interests aren’t as apt to ardently rally ‘round the Republicans next year. That could serve as a cushion for Democrats, who sprint out the gate late thanks to a botched, meaningless Jan. 15 presidential primary.
The across-the-aisle deal also could sap the wind from the sails of the recall movement, whose money and momentum was spurred by the reviled service tax.
The anti-tax zealots - who appear to worship at the altar of his immense foaminess, Mr. Perks, instead of our Lord and savior, Jesus Christ – have always hunted Dems and a few token Republicans who really irked them. Watch their fervor and funds dry up at the prospect of taking out so many of their own.
In the end, what truly matters is leaders of both parties came together and did something constructive. It wasn’t great policy and it wasn’t without ego, rancorous rhetoric or excruciating delay.
(“We’re trying to forge world peace,” Sen. Jason Allen, R-Traverse City, cracked Friday afternoon.)
Could be a start. The odds are long, but this is the season of hope, after all.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Want to save our state? Here's how
It's been 31 years since rumpled newsman Howard Beale ordered a generation to fling open the windows and declare:
"I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore!"
That's the line from the Oscar-nominated film "Network" everyone remembers, as it launched a thousand parodies and at least an ad campaign or two.But few people can recall the beleaguered Beale's soliloquy beforehand:
"I don't have to tell you things are bad. Everybody knows things are bad. It's a depression. Everybody's out of work or scared of losing their job. The dollar buys a nickel's work, banks are going bust, shopkeepers keep a gun under the counter.
"Punks are running wild in the street and there's nobody anywhere who seems to know what to do, and there's no end to it. We know the air is unfit to breathe and our food is unfit to eat, and we sit watching our TVs while some local newscaster tells us that today we had 15 homicides and 63 violent crimes, as if that's the way it's supposed to be.
"We know things are bad — worse than bad. They're crazy. It's like everything everywhere is going crazy, so we don't go out anymore. We sit in the house, and slowly the world we are living in is getting smaller, and all we say is, 'Please, at least leave us alone in our living rooms. Let me have my toaster and my TV and my steel-belted radials and I won't say anything. Just leave us alone.'
"Well, I'm not gonna leave you alone. I want you to get mad!"
Substitute an iPod, TiVo and Xbox, and it all sounds eerily familiar, if not a smidge apocalyptic.
In the past few years, I have had scores of conversations with Michiganders who have touched on these themes. There is a palpable frustration, even anger.
One thing almost everybody can agree on: Our state is in trouble.
But nobody knows how to change it.Enter the Center for Michigan, which is recruiting people from Benzonia to Battle Creek to brainstorm an action plan for the state in 90-minute community conversations during the next two months.
They're guaranteed to be more constructive — and productive — than screaming out your window.
The center, a bipartisan, nonprofit "think and do tank" outside Ann Arbor, calls this "Michigan's Defining Moment." After all, we have the worst economy in the nation, an abysmal rating with Wall Street, a shrinking population, threats to the Great Lakes, an ailing auto industry, a crumbling core city and a structural budget deficit that still hasn't been resolved even after last week's last-minute deal.
More than 80 forums will take place statewide, with Kellogg Community College, the Kellogg Foundation and Battle Creek Unlimited throwing their muscle behind the effort locally.
The center's approach is one of pragmatism, not dogmatism, aimed at bringing the left, right and center together to set firm goals to revitalize Michigan before the 2010 election, when most state leaders will be booted due to term limits. Conversations will be underpinned by civility, something sorely lacking in cable news talk shows, the blogosphere or even the Capitol.
Rather than being bland spitballing sessions, the center wants residents' feedback in three key areas: how Michigan can grow, retain and attract a skilled workforce in a global economy; invest in our economy and quality of life; and reform government at all levels to be more efficient, modern and accountable.Organizers also want to inject some much-needed pride into our state.
After all, we live in a place of unparalleled beauty nestled between four Great Lakes, which is home to some of the best universities in the world and has given birth to a slew of innovations from Corn Flakes to cars.
That is fertile soil for a new, modernized Michigan to grow.
But how, you might ask, do these conversations differ from other periodic powwows to set the state straight?
Well, the forums aren't just for the usual suspects — politicians, CEOs, union bosses — though everyone's invited. But as center founder Phil Power stresses, this round of sessions is aimed at all residents, especially those who feel their voices are never heard.
Groups will meet again in the winter, and then the center goes full throttle for the election cycle, presenting the plan to legislators, holding state House race debates and even issue potlucks.
Sounds great. But as a cynical columnist, I had to ask: What if nobody cares and nobody shows?
"You gotta stir people," said the center's Executive Director John Bebow, himself a cynical former journalist. "People have great interest in public affairs if you ask them to participate. But who's been asking?"
After the budget fiasco, it's clear Lansing has a rather remedial understanding of our state's problems. Now's the time for the people to lead — and our leaders can follow.
"I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore!"
That's the line from the Oscar-nominated film "Network" everyone remembers, as it launched a thousand parodies and at least an ad campaign or two.But few people can recall the beleaguered Beale's soliloquy beforehand:
"I don't have to tell you things are bad. Everybody knows things are bad. It's a depression. Everybody's out of work or scared of losing their job. The dollar buys a nickel's work, banks are going bust, shopkeepers keep a gun under the counter.
"Punks are running wild in the street and there's nobody anywhere who seems to know what to do, and there's no end to it. We know the air is unfit to breathe and our food is unfit to eat, and we sit watching our TVs while some local newscaster tells us that today we had 15 homicides and 63 violent crimes, as if that's the way it's supposed to be.
"We know things are bad — worse than bad. They're crazy. It's like everything everywhere is going crazy, so we don't go out anymore. We sit in the house, and slowly the world we are living in is getting smaller, and all we say is, 'Please, at least leave us alone in our living rooms. Let me have my toaster and my TV and my steel-belted radials and I won't say anything. Just leave us alone.'
"Well, I'm not gonna leave you alone. I want you to get mad!"
Substitute an iPod, TiVo and Xbox, and it all sounds eerily familiar, if not a smidge apocalyptic.
In the past few years, I have had scores of conversations with Michiganders who have touched on these themes. There is a palpable frustration, even anger.
One thing almost everybody can agree on: Our state is in trouble.
But nobody knows how to change it.Enter the Center for Michigan, which is recruiting people from Benzonia to Battle Creek to brainstorm an action plan for the state in 90-minute community conversations during the next two months.
They're guaranteed to be more constructive — and productive — than screaming out your window.
The center, a bipartisan, nonprofit "think and do tank" outside Ann Arbor, calls this "Michigan's Defining Moment." After all, we have the worst economy in the nation, an abysmal rating with Wall Street, a shrinking population, threats to the Great Lakes, an ailing auto industry, a crumbling core city and a structural budget deficit that still hasn't been resolved even after last week's last-minute deal.
More than 80 forums will take place statewide, with Kellogg Community College, the Kellogg Foundation and Battle Creek Unlimited throwing their muscle behind the effort locally.
The center's approach is one of pragmatism, not dogmatism, aimed at bringing the left, right and center together to set firm goals to revitalize Michigan before the 2010 election, when most state leaders will be booted due to term limits. Conversations will be underpinned by civility, something sorely lacking in cable news talk shows, the blogosphere or even the Capitol.
Rather than being bland spitballing sessions, the center wants residents' feedback in three key areas: how Michigan can grow, retain and attract a skilled workforce in a global economy; invest in our economy and quality of life; and reform government at all levels to be more efficient, modern and accountable.Organizers also want to inject some much-needed pride into our state.
After all, we live in a place of unparalleled beauty nestled between four Great Lakes, which is home to some of the best universities in the world and has given birth to a slew of innovations from Corn Flakes to cars.
That is fertile soil for a new, modernized Michigan to grow.
But how, you might ask, do these conversations differ from other periodic powwows to set the state straight?
Well, the forums aren't just for the usual suspects — politicians, CEOs, union bosses — though everyone's invited. But as center founder Phil Power stresses, this round of sessions is aimed at all residents, especially those who feel their voices are never heard.
Groups will meet again in the winter, and then the center goes full throttle for the election cycle, presenting the plan to legislators, holding state House race debates and even issue potlucks.
Sounds great. But as a cynical columnist, I had to ask: What if nobody cares and nobody shows?
"You gotta stir people," said the center's Executive Director John Bebow, himself a cynical former journalist. "People have great interest in public affairs if you ask them to participate. But who's been asking?"
After the budget fiasco, it's clear Lansing has a rather remedial understanding of our state's problems. Now's the time for the people to lead — and our leaders can follow.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Taxpayers made good choices for Michigan on Tuesday
I am a Michigander by choice, not by birth.
When I moved here almost three years ago, I was fresh off a stint covering the Iowa presidential caucus, just about the only reason to live in the cornfields. And that circus only stampedes into town every four years.
Moving to a land lush with lakes, museums and actual professional sports teams (four of 'em) seemed like a pretty good deal.
After scaling Sleeping Bear Dunes and submerging myself in Diego Rivera's fervid murals, I fell in love — hard and fast.
Little did I know, I was bucking the trend to migrate into the Mitten State, instead of high-tailin' it out of here like 20-somethings by the truckload.
Sure, I'd seen the headlines about Michigan's catatonic economy. But it just didn't seem possible that the land built by W.K. Kellogg, Herbert H. Dow and Henry Ford could have plummeted to the prosperity level of Mississippi.
And it didn't seem plausible we would ravage funding for our world-class public universities to plug the state's $1 billion structural deficit each year — which will never go away until we overhaul the tax system.
But after working everywhere from Howell to Saginaw to Battle Creek, it became clear. My adopted state was in trouble.
Now we have one of the worst budget crises in the nation.And if Gov. Jennifer Granholm and the Legislature can't thrash out a compromise to choke off a $700 million deficit by June 1, we'll see more teacher and police layoffs, more prison and school closings and more citizens without medical care.
We don't have the money.
Period.
But wait, it gets worse. The government could shut down — and that's not a good thing. We'll all feel the squeeze, beyond being unable to renew a driver's license. Cash-strapped cities and townships depend on state money to collect our trash, fix our roads and run water so we can flush our toilets. That's the stuff we take for granted.
So how do we solve this mess?
Tuesday, voters from just about every corner of Calhoun County took a surprising step. They modestly raised their own taxes or turned down rollbacks.
As much as we're all hurting, most people seem to think our schools, police and sewage systems are hurting, too.
Still, there are many, like White House adviser Karl Rove, who stubbornly maintain Michigan's problem is "too many taxes and too much spending."
That was the turd of conventional wisdom he dropped while recently collecting some cash for the GOP in Jackson. It's a sentiment too often echoed by Luddite legislators barely four months into office.
As someone who's just had to fork over a whole lotta money to four different governments, I can say that taxes do not top my list of favorite things.
But we've taken the tax-cutting frenzy too far, and our state is withering because of it. Not even Standard & Poor's believes purging $2 billion more in business taxes will jump-start the economy.
Almost 65 percent of Michiganders believe we need both service cuts and tax increases to get us out of the doldrums, compared to 23 percent who think cuts can do it alone, a new EPIC-MRA poll shows.
But Granholm is locked in an ego war with Senate Republicans, who seem to think approving a service tax is akin to calling for the slaughter of the firstborn.
They need to take a breath, and a page from our local officials, and invest long-term in what matters in Michigan — instead of slashing and burning our way to mediocrity.
All our kids need a top-notch education from preschool to postgrad. Cities like Battle Creek, Muskegon and Detroit need to undergo the renaissance Chicago has. Enough police need to be out there nabbing drug dealers and murderers.
Those aren't luxuries. That's called living in a civilized society. And study after study shows boosting critical programs — especially education — is the smartest economic development investment the state could make.But that takes money.
And a heaping dose of common sense, like Calhoun County voters showed Tuesday.
Most of all, it takes risk and innovation. Which was the very spirit the Wolverine State was founded upon, after all.
When I moved here almost three years ago, I was fresh off a stint covering the Iowa presidential caucus, just about the only reason to live in the cornfields. And that circus only stampedes into town every four years.
Moving to a land lush with lakes, museums and actual professional sports teams (four of 'em) seemed like a pretty good deal.
After scaling Sleeping Bear Dunes and submerging myself in Diego Rivera's fervid murals, I fell in love — hard and fast.
Little did I know, I was bucking the trend to migrate into the Mitten State, instead of high-tailin' it out of here like 20-somethings by the truckload.
Sure, I'd seen the headlines about Michigan's catatonic economy. But it just didn't seem possible that the land built by W.K. Kellogg, Herbert H. Dow and Henry Ford could have plummeted to the prosperity level of Mississippi.
And it didn't seem plausible we would ravage funding for our world-class public universities to plug the state's $1 billion structural deficit each year — which will never go away until we overhaul the tax system.
But after working everywhere from Howell to Saginaw to Battle Creek, it became clear. My adopted state was in trouble.
Now we have one of the worst budget crises in the nation.And if Gov. Jennifer Granholm and the Legislature can't thrash out a compromise to choke off a $700 million deficit by June 1, we'll see more teacher and police layoffs, more prison and school closings and more citizens without medical care.
We don't have the money.
Period.
But wait, it gets worse. The government could shut down — and that's not a good thing. We'll all feel the squeeze, beyond being unable to renew a driver's license. Cash-strapped cities and townships depend on state money to collect our trash, fix our roads and run water so we can flush our toilets. That's the stuff we take for granted.
So how do we solve this mess?
Tuesday, voters from just about every corner of Calhoun County took a surprising step. They modestly raised their own taxes or turned down rollbacks.
As much as we're all hurting, most people seem to think our schools, police and sewage systems are hurting, too.
Still, there are many, like White House adviser Karl Rove, who stubbornly maintain Michigan's problem is "too many taxes and too much spending."
That was the turd of conventional wisdom he dropped while recently collecting some cash for the GOP in Jackson. It's a sentiment too often echoed by Luddite legislators barely four months into office.
As someone who's just had to fork over a whole lotta money to four different governments, I can say that taxes do not top my list of favorite things.
But we've taken the tax-cutting frenzy too far, and our state is withering because of it. Not even Standard & Poor's believes purging $2 billion more in business taxes will jump-start the economy.
Almost 65 percent of Michiganders believe we need both service cuts and tax increases to get us out of the doldrums, compared to 23 percent who think cuts can do it alone, a new EPIC-MRA poll shows.
But Granholm is locked in an ego war with Senate Republicans, who seem to think approving a service tax is akin to calling for the slaughter of the firstborn.
They need to take a breath, and a page from our local officials, and invest long-term in what matters in Michigan — instead of slashing and burning our way to mediocrity.
All our kids need a top-notch education from preschool to postgrad. Cities like Battle Creek, Muskegon and Detroit need to undergo the renaissance Chicago has. Enough police need to be out there nabbing drug dealers and murderers.
Those aren't luxuries. That's called living in a civilized society. And study after study shows boosting critical programs — especially education — is the smartest economic development investment the state could make.But that takes money.
And a heaping dose of common sense, like Calhoun County voters showed Tuesday.
Most of all, it takes risk and innovation. Which was the very spirit the Wolverine State was founded upon, after all.
Monday, November 6, 2006
2006 Governor’s race: What will they do for Jackson?
By Susan J. Demas
Jackson Citizen Patriot
Andy Nastally swapped the assembly line for the unemployment line after spending almost his entire adult life at TRW Automotive.
Nastally, 28, was one of 400 workers to get the ax when the plant closed in July. Now the Jackson dad worries how to pay his heating bill and afford clothes for his three kids.
“I’ll never find another job like that,” said Nastally, an almost 9-year TRW veteran. “It’s getting used to poverty, I guess.”
Former floor inspector Elizabeth Powell, 44, also is among the 80 percent who hasn’t landed a new job since the layoffs.
“It’s a struggle,” said Powell, a 7-year TRW employee from Blackman Township.
As Jackson County faces an uncertain future, with 7.3 percent unemployment and another 500-plus jobs on the line at Eaton Corp., voters such as Powell and Nastally are anxiously looking to the governor’s race Nov. 7.
They’re not party loyalists. They don’t care about the $50 million-plus ad campaign, the priciest in Michigan’s history.
They have just one question for Democratic Gov. Jennifer Granholm and GOP challenger Dick DeVos:
What will you do for us?
“I have a program, ‘No Worker Left Behind,’ for auto workers who are victims of the global economy,” Granholm said. “It helps them afford collapsed training in a new career like skilled trades or health care.”
DeVos counters it’s too little, too late – and he can do better.
“I’d tell them it’s time for a change,” DeVos said. “What (Granholm) is doing in Michigan obviously isn’t working.”
Governor’s grades
At the Jackson Coffee Co. this week, a khaki-clad Granholm came armed with hugs and handshakes for 200 supporters. After a full day on the campaign bus, her magnetic blue eyes still locked with every worker behind the counter.
What gets lost amid the shouts and cheers is that the governor — who has never lost an election — is fighting to keep her own job.
Four years ago, she was flying high as the state’s first female governor, with analysts lamenting Granholm’s Canadian birth blocked her road to the White House.
That was before Michigan bled 85,000 jobs, Ford Motor Co. announced 40,000 layoffs and General Motors hemorrhaged 35,000 buyouts.
Studies by University of Michigan economists and the nonpartisan,
Kalamazoo-based W.E. Upjohn Institute both project a net job loss through 2008 — regardless of who’s in the governor’s mansion.
Michigan’s dependence on the auto industry is one reason for its 7.1 percent state unemployment, Granholm argues.
Granholm also hastens to point out the state lost 240,000 jobs in the last three years of Republican Gov. John Engler, who also handed her a budget $4 billion out-of-whack.
“Like so many other women, I’m a mother and I’m used to cleaning up other people’s messes,” the mother of three said at a Michigan State University rally in October.
The centerpiece of her economic plan is the $2 billion 21st Century Jobs Fund investing in advanced manufacturing, alternative energy, homeland security and life sciences start-ups. She also signed a $600 million tax cut for manufacturers.
Granholm wants to replace the $1.9 billion in revenue lost from the repeal of the Single Business tax — almost one-quarter of the general fund — with a business tax weighted more on profits than wages.
U.S. House candidate Tim Walberg, R-Tipton, said Jackson County voters know Granholm has been “incompetent” at bringing the economy out of the doldrums.
“I would give her a ‘D’ grade,” said Walberg, who’s facing Sharon Renier, D-Munith, in the 7th District. “She won’t work with the Legislature. Engler worked with the Democratic House to get 21 tax cuts passed.”
Millionaire challenger
DeVos, 51, is shakier on the campaign trail than Granholm, but he was quick with a crinkled smile and hearty laugh at a 400-person Greater Jackson Chamber of Commerce mixer last week.
The father of four has run as a political outsider, having only served two brief stints on educational boards. His wife, Betsy, is the former state GOP chairwoman and the Ada Township couple has given millions to Republican groups.
DeVos says the race comes down to leadership.
Touting his credentials as the former CEO of Amway/Alticor, DeVos helped spearhead this year’s petition drive to kill the Single Business Tax in 2007.
He supports replacing “at least half” the lost revenue through a business-based levy but said he’ll propose a new tax structure after Election Day. To make up for the shortfall, DeVos wants to “trim the fat” from state services.
DeVos also wants to overhaul personal property taxes for business, which generates $1.8 billion, and enact a “30-day shovel in the ground” policy for construction. He said Ohio and Indiana have benefited from “high taxes driving Michigan businesses away.”
“We need a businessperson in the governor’s office,” DeVos said. “We need to transform taxes and have one-stop shopping in state government.”
It’s DeVos’ record in business that Democrats have seized on — pointing to 1,400 Michigan jobs lost while Amway invested $200 million in China in the 1990s.
DeVos calls the claim “salacious,” maintaining he did not ship jobs overseas.
But state Sen. Mark Schauer, D-Battle Creek, says DeVos’ history hasn’t played well with Jackson County voters nervous about their jobs.
“He’s part of the problem in Michigan,” said Schauer, who’s being challenged by Elizabeth Fulton, R-Battle Creek. “People know Granholm is going to fight, like she has for the Big Three car companies.”
Jackson bound
During DeVos’ stop in Jackson, he called its 2004 “Cool Cities” designation a “nice-sounding idea” but questioned how much Granholm’s initiative had improved the area.
“I might be a little biased, but I think cities that work — that’s a cool thing,” DeVos said. “I know a little bit about that with what we’ve done in Grand Rapids.”
Granholm highlights the Armory Arts Project — which in May netted $10.5 million in state funds — as her “first example of how arts can foster economic development.”
She said it’s critical for manufacturing-based cities like Jackson to attract other development and attract young people.
Jackson County faces more challenges than with its economy. About 20,000 residents — 12 percent — lack health insurance, the Department of Community Health reports.
Granholm has proposed “no-frills” coverage for Michigan’s 1.1 million uninsured modeled around a plan signed by Gov. Mitt Romney, R-Mass. She argues it’s an investment since the high cost of health care is costing Michigan companies jobs, especially within the auto industry.
DeVos said it’s another example of “all talk, no action” by the governor, who hasn’t taken her plan to the Legislature. He favors tort reform to keep costs down and revamping Medicaid.
“We have got to get Michigan back to work,” DeVos said. “The best way to have health care is to get a job.”
Education is another area in which Jackson County lags, with only 16 percent of residents 25 or older holding bachelor’s degrees compared to 22 percent statewide.
Granholm has proposed a $4,000 merit scholarship for every Michigan student to meet her goal of doubling the number of college graduates by 2015. Vowing to invest more in K-12 education, she also signed a law beefing up high school graduation requirements.
“What I stress to kids is that there is a $1 million lifetime earning differential between those who graduate from high school and college,” she said.
DeVos argues Granholm has cut education too much. Though he led a 2000 effort for school vouchers, he said he’s “firmly committed” to public education and will fight to funnel more funding into the classroom.
Workers’ winners
So after sifting through the plans, the rhetoric and the non-stop TV ads, what do the laid-off TRW workers have to say about the race?
Nastally, who said he’s never voted a straight ticket, said he’s worried DeVos will slash school funding and other programs. Granholm won his vote with her plans for education and improving the skilled workforce.
“(DeVos) is wishy-washy in his answers on everything,” he said. “The governor has taken one hell of a mess and tried to turn it around. I don’t know if she could have done it any quicker.”
But Powell, who says she’s a lifelong Democrat, is pulling the lever for DeVos because “Granholm fell short of what she promised” about creating jobs. She also raised taxes on cigarettes.
“Things are so critical. I’ll vote for whoever can get the job done,” Powell said. “(DeVos) ran a corporation like Amway — he knows the ins and outs to bring new business here,” Powell said.
On Nov. 8, both Nastally and Powell will still be looking for work – and whoever falls short in the gubernatorial contest could be joining them. But offers likely will pour in for the multi-millionaire entrepreneur DeVos and Granholm, a Harvard-trained former federal prosecutor.
The TRW workers are in a different boat.
Facing her fifth month without a job, Powell lets out a long sigh. “I don’t know if either of them is concerned about us people.”
Jackson Citizen Patriot
Andy Nastally swapped the assembly line for the unemployment line after spending almost his entire adult life at TRW Automotive.
Nastally, 28, was one of 400 workers to get the ax when the plant closed in July. Now the Jackson dad worries how to pay his heating bill and afford clothes for his three kids.
“I’ll never find another job like that,” said Nastally, an almost 9-year TRW veteran. “It’s getting used to poverty, I guess.”
Former floor inspector Elizabeth Powell, 44, also is among the 80 percent who hasn’t landed a new job since the layoffs.
“It’s a struggle,” said Powell, a 7-year TRW employee from Blackman Township.
As Jackson County faces an uncertain future, with 7.3 percent unemployment and another 500-plus jobs on the line at Eaton Corp., voters such as Powell and Nastally are anxiously looking to the governor’s race Nov. 7.
They’re not party loyalists. They don’t care about the $50 million-plus ad campaign, the priciest in Michigan’s history.
They have just one question for Democratic Gov. Jennifer Granholm and GOP challenger Dick DeVos:
What will you do for us?
“I have a program, ‘No Worker Left Behind,’ for auto workers who are victims of the global economy,” Granholm said. “It helps them afford collapsed training in a new career like skilled trades or health care.”
DeVos counters it’s too little, too late – and he can do better.
“I’d tell them it’s time for a change,” DeVos said. “What (Granholm) is doing in Michigan obviously isn’t working.”
Governor’s grades
At the Jackson Coffee Co. this week, a khaki-clad Granholm came armed with hugs and handshakes for 200 supporters. After a full day on the campaign bus, her magnetic blue eyes still locked with every worker behind the counter.
What gets lost amid the shouts and cheers is that the governor — who has never lost an election — is fighting to keep her own job.
Four years ago, she was flying high as the state’s first female governor, with analysts lamenting Granholm’s Canadian birth blocked her road to the White House.
That was before Michigan bled 85,000 jobs, Ford Motor Co. announced 40,000 layoffs and General Motors hemorrhaged 35,000 buyouts.
Studies by University of Michigan economists and the nonpartisan,
Kalamazoo-based W.E. Upjohn Institute both project a net job loss through 2008 — regardless of who’s in the governor’s mansion.
Michigan’s dependence on the auto industry is one reason for its 7.1 percent state unemployment, Granholm argues.
Granholm also hastens to point out the state lost 240,000 jobs in the last three years of Republican Gov. John Engler, who also handed her a budget $4 billion out-of-whack.
“Like so many other women, I’m a mother and I’m used to cleaning up other people’s messes,” the mother of three said at a Michigan State University rally in October.
The centerpiece of her economic plan is the $2 billion 21st Century Jobs Fund investing in advanced manufacturing, alternative energy, homeland security and life sciences start-ups. She also signed a $600 million tax cut for manufacturers.
Granholm wants to replace the $1.9 billion in revenue lost from the repeal of the Single Business tax — almost one-quarter of the general fund — with a business tax weighted more on profits than wages.
U.S. House candidate Tim Walberg, R-Tipton, said Jackson County voters know Granholm has been “incompetent” at bringing the economy out of the doldrums.
“I would give her a ‘D’ grade,” said Walberg, who’s facing Sharon Renier, D-Munith, in the 7th District. “She won’t work with the Legislature. Engler worked with the Democratic House to get 21 tax cuts passed.”
Millionaire challenger
DeVos, 51, is shakier on the campaign trail than Granholm, but he was quick with a crinkled smile and hearty laugh at a 400-person Greater Jackson Chamber of Commerce mixer last week.
The father of four has run as a political outsider, having only served two brief stints on educational boards. His wife, Betsy, is the former state GOP chairwoman and the Ada Township couple has given millions to Republican groups.
DeVos says the race comes down to leadership.
Touting his credentials as the former CEO of Amway/Alticor, DeVos helped spearhead this year’s petition drive to kill the Single Business Tax in 2007.
He supports replacing “at least half” the lost revenue through a business-based levy but said he’ll propose a new tax structure after Election Day. To make up for the shortfall, DeVos wants to “trim the fat” from state services.
DeVos also wants to overhaul personal property taxes for business, which generates $1.8 billion, and enact a “30-day shovel in the ground” policy for construction. He said Ohio and Indiana have benefited from “high taxes driving Michigan businesses away.”
“We need a businessperson in the governor’s office,” DeVos said. “We need to transform taxes and have one-stop shopping in state government.”
It’s DeVos’ record in business that Democrats have seized on — pointing to 1,400 Michigan jobs lost while Amway invested $200 million in China in the 1990s.
DeVos calls the claim “salacious,” maintaining he did not ship jobs overseas.
But state Sen. Mark Schauer, D-Battle Creek, says DeVos’ history hasn’t played well with Jackson County voters nervous about their jobs.
“He’s part of the problem in Michigan,” said Schauer, who’s being challenged by Elizabeth Fulton, R-Battle Creek. “People know Granholm is going to fight, like she has for the Big Three car companies.”
Jackson bound
During DeVos’ stop in Jackson, he called its 2004 “Cool Cities” designation a “nice-sounding idea” but questioned how much Granholm’s initiative had improved the area.
“I might be a little biased, but I think cities that work — that’s a cool thing,” DeVos said. “I know a little bit about that with what we’ve done in Grand Rapids.”
Granholm highlights the Armory Arts Project — which in May netted $10.5 million in state funds — as her “first example of how arts can foster economic development.”
She said it’s critical for manufacturing-based cities like Jackson to attract other development and attract young people.
Jackson County faces more challenges than with its economy. About 20,000 residents — 12 percent — lack health insurance, the Department of Community Health reports.
Granholm has proposed “no-frills” coverage for Michigan’s 1.1 million uninsured modeled around a plan signed by Gov. Mitt Romney, R-Mass. She argues it’s an investment since the high cost of health care is costing Michigan companies jobs, especially within the auto industry.
DeVos said it’s another example of “all talk, no action” by the governor, who hasn’t taken her plan to the Legislature. He favors tort reform to keep costs down and revamping Medicaid.
“We have got to get Michigan back to work,” DeVos said. “The best way to have health care is to get a job.”
Education is another area in which Jackson County lags, with only 16 percent of residents 25 or older holding bachelor’s degrees compared to 22 percent statewide.
Granholm has proposed a $4,000 merit scholarship for every Michigan student to meet her goal of doubling the number of college graduates by 2015. Vowing to invest more in K-12 education, she also signed a law beefing up high school graduation requirements.
“What I stress to kids is that there is a $1 million lifetime earning differential between those who graduate from high school and college,” she said.
DeVos argues Granholm has cut education too much. Though he led a 2000 effort for school vouchers, he said he’s “firmly committed” to public education and will fight to funnel more funding into the classroom.
Workers’ winners
So after sifting through the plans, the rhetoric and the non-stop TV ads, what do the laid-off TRW workers have to say about the race?
Nastally, who said he’s never voted a straight ticket, said he’s worried DeVos will slash school funding and other programs. Granholm won his vote with her plans for education and improving the skilled workforce.
“(DeVos) is wishy-washy in his answers on everything,” he said. “The governor has taken one hell of a mess and tried to turn it around. I don’t know if she could have done it any quicker.”
But Powell, who says she’s a lifelong Democrat, is pulling the lever for DeVos because “Granholm fell short of what she promised” about creating jobs. She also raised taxes on cigarettes.
“Things are so critical. I’ll vote for whoever can get the job done,” Powell said. “(DeVos) ran a corporation like Amway — he knows the ins and outs to bring new business here,” Powell said.
On Nov. 8, both Nastally and Powell will still be looking for work – and whoever falls short in the gubernatorial contest could be joining them. But offers likely will pour in for the multi-millionaire entrepreneur DeVos and Granholm, a Harvard-trained former federal prosecutor.
The TRW workers are in a different boat.
Facing her fifth month without a job, Powell lets out a long sigh. “I don’t know if either of them is concerned about us people.”
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