By John Maginnis
Simply by staying still, the political stars of the state's top two elected leaders are on the rise.
Lt. Gov. Mitch Landrieu announced last week he would not run for mayor of New Orleans next year, opting to stay in Baton Rouge, closer to his ultimate goal. Good choice. Even if he were to be elected mayor, hardly assured, the office historically is a dead end for political careers, even if he were to succeed in bringing the city together, also hardly assured. For his future, the best job is the one he has.
The same can be said for Gov. Bobby Jindal, for now anyway. His national star dimmed somewhat this year, but at least it didn't flame out, like those of now-former Republican presidential aspirants Sen. John Ensign of Nevada and Gov. Mark Sanford of South Carolina, both politically destroyed by their recently exposed extra-marital affairs. Their falls are significant because both had recently eclipsed Jindal, following his dreadful nationally televised speech in February, especially dynamic fellow Southerner Sanford.
On another front, Jindal, doing nothing again, also looked good compared to Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin, who stunned Republicans and disturbed some too by announcing her resignation mid-term. She will make a fortune on the speaking circuit and can focus freely on a potential presidential bid, but some Republicans see her move as erratic and opportunistic.
It might seem like a low bar, but just by honoring his marriage and keeping his job, Bobby Jindal is looking better and better as a leader in the Republican Party.
Yet, unless things change drastically, he most likely is no rival to Palin for the presidential nomination in 2012, nor is he to others mentioned as top early contenders: Mitt Romney, Mike Huckabee, Newt Gingrich, even Minnesota Gov. Tim Pawlenty.
The Louisiana governor, however, holds an important distinction compared to them all. Given Pawlenty's decision not to seek a third term in 2010, by then Jindal will be the only one of the above serving in public office. So much for the rap on him that he doesn't stay in any job for long. By 2012, seasoned by re-election, Jindal would make an attractive vice presidential candidate for any one of them.
Although he passed on being considered for the second spot on John McCain's ticket last year, next time will be different. If tapped, win or lose, he would be the party's likely frontrunner for 2016 or 2020, when he's 45 or 49.
Over the next three years, Jindal's star need not rise so much as just hold steady, while he stays prepared. Meanwhile, nobody's star is hitched so closely to his as is Landrieu's.
Before his announcement, the lieutenant governor said his decision would be based on where he could do the most good, in City Hall or the State Capitol. So we have his answer. Many hope that means he will challenge Jindal's re-election in 2011. Already he has assumed leadership of the Democratic opposition, criticizing the governor's funding cuts to education and healthcare and his refusal to consider tax increases.
Yet it's a stretch to see Landrieu taking his fight to Jindal on the ballot. Unless the governor is much less popular in two years than he is now, Landrieu's long-term, even short-term prospects lie with the unique office he holds.
In 2010, if Jindal (though he says he won't) challenges and defeats U.S. Sen. David Vitter, and then wins the general election, Mitch Landrieu is the next governor.
In 2012 (assuming they are both re-elected), if Jindal is tapped to run for vice president, and the Republicans win, Mitch Landrieu is the next governor.
In 2014, if Jindal, late in his second term, challenges U.S. Sen. Mary Landrieu—or she doesn't seek a fourth term—and he wins, Mitch Landrieu is the next governor.
If none of the above happens, in 2015, with Jindal leaving office, the political pendulum could well swing back to the Democrats. In which case, barring some upstart, at age 55, Mitch Landrieu is the next governor.
So, until then, why go anywhere? Patience and perseverance are not qualities ascribed to either man, but practicing such could get them both where they want to go.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Wit and Wisdom of the Louisiana Legislature
by John Maginnis
"Everything starts from a beginning," explained Rep. Henry Burns, which might seem like an obvious statement, except for legislators who learned to take nothing for granted in the recently adjourned legislative session, which was light on substance but slippery on process.
During it, first-term legislators learned a new word: "rookie-doo," a variation of "fugaboo," both used to express the schnookering of a member or the whole body. Such occurred when Rep. Avon Honey nonchalantly got the House to approve a "routine amendment," which effectively accepted the $98 million federal stimulus unemployment benefits that Gov. Bobby Jindal and his Republican legislative allies had vowed to reject.
Or when committee approval of a cigarette tax bill was foiled for lack of a quorum because two Republican members, Reps. Steve Carter and Frank Hoffman, hid out in the governor's office.
Incidents like that characterize a session, instead of soaring speeches and courageous votes, which didn't happen. Rather, it was the passing comment, the flip rejoinder, the clueless remark that defined this meeting of lawmakers and showcased the wit and wisdom of the 2009 Louisiana Legislature.
It started ominously, when a ceremonial delegation of legislators, sent to inform the governor that the Legislature had convened, didn't find Jindal in his office. Sen. Jody Amedee shrugged it off: "He was probably at a fundraiser."
The overriding and overwhelming issue of the gaping budget shortfall prompted an opening-day fashion statement from Sen. Lydia Jackson: "I'm wearing red so the bleeding won't show as much."
Looming deep budget cuts and the need to restore funding drew department heads to the Capitol on an almost daily basis, as Speaker Jim Tucker noted to Agriculture Commissioner and former legislator Mike Strain: "You've been here more than when you were here."
Lobbyists were there every day, though some recognized the futility of stopping budget-cutting measures advanced by the administration. "I'm here performing the armadillo form of lobbying," said Derrell Cohoon, representing highway contractors. "Stand in the middle of the road and get run over by a big truck."
A member rising for a point of order is to be recognized, or not, as when Rep. Hunter Greene, presiding, responded to a query: "I couldn't hear you, but the answer is no."
Sen. Joe McPherson saw a silver lining in an amendment, conceding, "It was a horrible bill to begin with. It's just a bad bill now."
The bill to ban smoking in bars went too far for Rep. Robert Johnson, who said his constituents told him, "We've elected you to represent us, not to babysit us."
Prolonged debate on the matter just made Senate President Joel Chaisson II thirsty. "All this talk about bars and restaurants," he said. "I think we should hurry up and get to one."
One of the weirder bills of the session, to prohibit experimentation with human-animal hybrids, brought a congratulatory note to the author from Speaker Tucker: "Sen. Martiny, your bill pa-a-a-ssed."
Also, the speaker left nothing to chance in planning the annual House-Senate basketball game, telling members. "An ambulance will be there. A doctor will be there. Come on out, it's going to be a lot of fun."
Rep. Karen Peterson thought she needed a doctor after a cabinet secretary, who earlier had tested positive for the swine flu virus, coughed on her in committee. She showed up the next day wearing a surgical mask. Rep. Jared Brossett offered the adjournment motion: "Mr. Speaker, I move the House stand adjourned until it is fully quarantined."
House-Senate relations, as usual, deteriorated in the closing days, to the point where Rep. Bodi White was hooted out of the Senate when he brought a message asking the upper chamber to rescind its amendment to freeze income tax deductions. Sen. Rob Marionneaux told him, "Take that missile that's halfway through your torso" back to the House.
Even differences were elusive, as when Rep. Kirk Talbot concluded, "We'll just have to disagree to disagree."
Prior to final adjournment, the House delegation sent to notify the governor returned to announce he indeed was there this time, and that, as a bonus, they also found Reps. Carter and Hoffman.
"Everything starts from a beginning," explained Rep. Henry Burns, which might seem like an obvious statement, except for legislators who learned to take nothing for granted in the recently adjourned legislative session, which was light on substance but slippery on process.
During it, first-term legislators learned a new word: "rookie-doo," a variation of "fugaboo," both used to express the schnookering of a member or the whole body. Such occurred when Rep. Avon Honey nonchalantly got the House to approve a "routine amendment," which effectively accepted the $98 million federal stimulus unemployment benefits that Gov. Bobby Jindal and his Republican legislative allies had vowed to reject.
Or when committee approval of a cigarette tax bill was foiled for lack of a quorum because two Republican members, Reps. Steve Carter and Frank Hoffman, hid out in the governor's office.
Incidents like that characterize a session, instead of soaring speeches and courageous votes, which didn't happen. Rather, it was the passing comment, the flip rejoinder, the clueless remark that defined this meeting of lawmakers and showcased the wit and wisdom of the 2009 Louisiana Legislature.
It started ominously, when a ceremonial delegation of legislators, sent to inform the governor that the Legislature had convened, didn't find Jindal in his office. Sen. Jody Amedee shrugged it off: "He was probably at a fundraiser."
The overriding and overwhelming issue of the gaping budget shortfall prompted an opening-day fashion statement from Sen. Lydia Jackson: "I'm wearing red so the bleeding won't show as much."
Looming deep budget cuts and the need to restore funding drew department heads to the Capitol on an almost daily basis, as Speaker Jim Tucker noted to Agriculture Commissioner and former legislator Mike Strain: "You've been here more than when you were here."
Lobbyists were there every day, though some recognized the futility of stopping budget-cutting measures advanced by the administration. "I'm here performing the armadillo form of lobbying," said Derrell Cohoon, representing highway contractors. "Stand in the middle of the road and get run over by a big truck."
A member rising for a point of order is to be recognized, or not, as when Rep. Hunter Greene, presiding, responded to a query: "I couldn't hear you, but the answer is no."
Sen. Joe McPherson saw a silver lining in an amendment, conceding, "It was a horrible bill to begin with. It's just a bad bill now."
The bill to ban smoking in bars went too far for Rep. Robert Johnson, who said his constituents told him, "We've elected you to represent us, not to babysit us."
Prolonged debate on the matter just made Senate President Joel Chaisson II thirsty. "All this talk about bars and restaurants," he said. "I think we should hurry up and get to one."
One of the weirder bills of the session, to prohibit experimentation with human-animal hybrids, brought a congratulatory note to the author from Speaker Tucker: "Sen. Martiny, your bill pa-a-a-ssed."
Also, the speaker left nothing to chance in planning the annual House-Senate basketball game, telling members. "An ambulance will be there. A doctor will be there. Come on out, it's going to be a lot of fun."
Rep. Karen Peterson thought she needed a doctor after a cabinet secretary, who earlier had tested positive for the swine flu virus, coughed on her in committee. She showed up the next day wearing a surgical mask. Rep. Jared Brossett offered the adjournment motion: "Mr. Speaker, I move the House stand adjourned until it is fully quarantined."
House-Senate relations, as usual, deteriorated in the closing days, to the point where Rep. Bodi White was hooted out of the Senate when he brought a message asking the upper chamber to rescind its amendment to freeze income tax deductions. Sen. Rob Marionneaux told him, "Take that missile that's halfway through your torso" back to the House.
Even differences were elusive, as when Rep. Kirk Talbot concluded, "We'll just have to disagree to disagree."
Prior to final adjournment, the House delegation sent to notify the governor returned to announce he indeed was there this time, and that, as a bonus, they also found Reps. Carter and Hoffman.
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