Making Wal-Mart Pay

Wal-Mart: the Sith Lord of unbridled capitalism. Modern-day barbarians, burning and looting their way through America. The company everyone loves to hate. Everyone, that is, except their stockholders.

Kicking at Wal-Mart is becoming a national pastime. They are, after all, the poster child of predatory capitalism. They move in, undercut the competition, and drive the competition out. It happened in my own home town: a downtown hardware store and the east-side grocery store both closed after Wal-Mart moved in.

Of course, that east side location is home to a new grocery store now. And the downtown is flourishing with small shops. Not sure how that fits with the I-hate-Wal-Mart narrative.

There’s a new reason to hate Wal-Mart these days: they cost us taxpayers money, because they don’t provide health insurance for their low-paid employees. This forces those employees onto state-sponsored, taxpayer-funded health care.

An excerpt from a recent editorial:

“Walmartwatch.com estimates that U.S. taxpayers pay $1.5 billion subsidizing Wal-Mart Medicaid costs, 15% of Wal-Mart's $10 billion in profits last year.

Now we are all for free enterprise, but some companies think this means a free ride on the people's dime.”

For the sake of discussion, we’ll take those numbers at face value.

Note the rhetorical ju-jitsu: a free-spending government creates, then improves taxpayer-funded health care for the poor. Naturally, the poor use it. Costs grow. It’s obviously Wal-Mart’s fault.

Doesn’t Wal-Mart pay taxes? Yes, in fact they do. Like Jane Fonda and Michael Moore, they’re paying exactly the share of Medicaid that the law requires.

And who, precisely, is getting the “free ride?” It’s not free, exactly – heavily subsidized describes it better – but it’s the poor who are benefiting. Medicaid and BadgerCare offer health care subsidies to the poor. They aren’t “Wal-Mart Medicaid costs” any more than they’re my Medicaid costs.

I know. It’s hateful and selfish of me to point that out.

And, the anti-Wal-Martists will say, it’s beside the point: if Wal-Mart used some of their incredible profits to pay better wages, or to provide health insurance, the taxpayers wouldn’t be paying so much.

Surely, a company as successful as Wal-Mart can afford health coverage. Arguing with that means you favor greed and anyway, come on, they made $10 billion last year. How much is enough?

An interesting philosophical question. A question the government won’t help to answer, I hope.

It is funny, though: so much profit, yet no one’s complaining that Wal-Mart is overcharging its customers.

I’ve had a lot of jobs in my life. Fast food, convenience store, restaurant, landscaping. Low-level, low-pay, low-skill kinds of jobs. Wal-Mart kinds of jobs: cashiering, stocking, bringing back the shopping carts and buffing the floor at 2 a.m.

When did jobs like that start offering health care packages? They didn’t. They never have.

But wait: Wal-Mart does. They’ll pay 2/3 the cost of health insurance after 6 months, for full-time employees, and after 2 years, for part-timers.

That’s a dirty little fact that doesn’t play well with the theme of the day, I’m afraid.

Here’s another: corporations pay their costs with the prices they charge their customers. That’s true for multinational conglomerates right down to the Mom & Pop on the corner. The rule is: make enough of a profit to justify your existence, or forgo said existence.

Put another way: if costs go up, so will prices.

How many people bought a bag of charcoal at Wal-Mart this weekend? Let’s say it was 5 million. Now let’s say the state taxes Wal-Mart more for Medicaid, or forces Wal-Mart to provide health insurance.

Wal-Mart has to protect its profit margin, thus its stock price. So to cover the additional cost, they raise the price of charcoal by 5 cents a bag.

That means Wal-Mart customers pay $250,000 more for charcoal than they would have otherwise. That’s $250,000 that isn’t spent on hot dogs, movies, gas, flowers, newspapers, or beach towels. A quarter million dollars in lost economic activity.

But at least the taxpayers won’t be paying for it.

Ah, but we will. Forcing private companies to offer better benefits, even if it puts Medicaid into the black, won’t save the taxpayers a single dime. Face it: government can always find a way to spend money. Force those costs onto private companies, and government will spend the money they “save” on something else, plain and simple. We pay the same in taxes, plus we pay more at the store.

We pay more. That’s the government solution for everything.

No HOPE

Is there any HOPE at all?

No. No, there isn’t.

HOPE is just the politically apt (but logically flawed) acronym for “Home Owner’s Property Exemption,” a proposal rolled out by legislative Democrats this week.

The stated purpose: reduce the tax burden on hardworking homeowners. The real purpose: score some points off the Republicans.

Here’s the basics: HOPE would allow homeowners to exempt the first $60,000 of their homes’ value from school property taxes.

That’s it. According to two leading Democrats in the legislature, this will reduce property tax bills by an average of $569.

That’s a significant piece of change: almost fifty bucks a month, nearly a quarter of my total property tax bill. And it’s the Democrats who want us to have it.

Wait…Democrats? Cutting taxes that go directly to schools?

Of course not. Democrats wouldn’t dream of making schools do without every penny they can possibly get. They plan to “pay” for that tax cut by “identifying and closing” tax loopholes that benefit corporations. The state will collect that money, and distribute it back to the school districts.

Which loopholes, specifically, they don’t say. There’s a reason for that, which I’ll come back to in a moment. The important thing is: it doesn’t matter how they “pay” for it. What matters is the message: hardworking taxpayers, yes; greedy corporations, no.

They figure to put the Republicans on the opposite side of that message.

Republicans have responded by asking for details, and how Democrats plan to avoid hitting working families with their tax increases. A good question, but one Democrats have successfully answered “pish posh.” So far, at least.

The problem Democrats have – the one they want to keep a secret – is that there aren’t enough corporate “loopholes” to pay for their plan.

No, the largest “loopholes” are the sales tax exemptions on things like food, medical services (including drugs), and income tax exemptions on pensions. Unless Democrats are willing to tax things like that – things that will directly affect every taxpayer – they can’t pay for their plan.

But that gets in the way of the message, so they’ll ignore it. Greedy corporations!

Here’s another problem: even if there were enough “loopholes” to “pay” for the tax cut, this proposal would still lead to higher taxes.

Why? Because there’s a lot of pressure on local governments to keep taxes down right now. That’s why referendums have been failing all over the state.

A property tax cut of this size would relieve a lot of that pressure. Local governments will take advantage of that, by spending a little more, then a little more, then a little more. Sure, the overall tax burden is higher, but tax bills are still lower than they were in the pre-HOPE era, so why are you complaining?

HOPE doesn’t reduce taxes or spending by a single penny, and if it passes, spending will grow faster than ever.

If the Democrats are serious, there are ways to make this work. For example, include some sort of limit on future spending. Or, instead of shifting taxes onto businesses (which provide all our jobs, after all), how about “paying” for the tax cut with less spending?

Nah. Not on the radar screen.

I could argue further. I could point out, for example, that raising taxes on business means higher prices or fewer jobs because – as distasteful as I know some people find this – businesses exist to (gasp!) turn a profit.

I could also point out that HOPE might conflict with Wisconsin’s constitution, because it would tax more valuable properties at a higher rate than less valuable ones.

HOPE’s Democrat sponsors have probably already thought of that. Put a little progressivity into property taxes. Soak the rich, and constitution be damned.

As far as they're concerned, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if HOPE ever becomes law. Doesn’t matter if it works.

Passing meaningful legislation isn’t their goal. It hasn’t been in quite some time. The goal is the politics: Democrats tried to cut your property taxes, but Republicans preferred to protect businesses.

In the end, it all boils down to the same old thing. To the Democrats, it’s not that taxes are too high: it’s that the wrong people aren’t paying enough. Instead of focusing on government spending, finding new efficiencies, maybe even finding some government programs we could all live just as well without, they look for another way to raise taxes. To get more money for the government to spend.

There’s just no hope for them.

Philip Buster? Who's That?

Remember Henry Foster?

Henry W. Foster, Jr. MD, to be exact. Remember him? No?

Neither did I, until I looked him up. Dr. Foster was President Clinton’s nominee for Surgeon General in 1995 – the guy he tapped to replace “Condom Queen” Jocelyn Elders (how I do miss her).

Foster never became Surgeon General. It was revealed that he had performed abortions – how many, we never really found out – and the Clinton administration hadn’t done their homework. They were caught by surprise. Senate Republicans objected to his nomination, and he eventually withdrew his name.

At the time – ten years ago – this was a big issue. Interest groups got all lathered up on one side or another. Pundits talked, and wrote, and talked some more. Political junkies watched CNN (remember when political junkies watched CNN?) and debated endlessly over who should or shouldn’t hold what is arguably the least useful executive position in the U.S. government.

And today…who cares?

Granted, I’m engaging in a little apples-to-oranges comparison here, but I think the same thing will happen to the issue of judicial filibusters.

In ten years, even ten months, who’s going to care? Only the people who are intimately involved – the interest groups, the junkies, the politicians, and of course the nominees themselves.

Everybody else will be saying things like “Priscilla who?” “Owen who?” “Phil? Buster? Who?”

Oh, sure, the pro-abortion, anti-God, socialist Utopianists who never saw a government solution they didn’t like will try to gin up some outrage over the whole thing. And why shouldn’t they? I mean, come on, the Radical Right is insisting that the Senate actually vote!

And yes, the pro-life, neo/paleo/theocon (or whatever) strict constitutionalists who want their judges to just keep the government the hell away from all of us will do likewise.

For God’s sake, they’re making use of Senate procedure!

The political junkies and interest groups might be holding their breath over it. Over what is, essentially, a procedural motion. All the usual suspects will gnash their teeth and flare their nostrils and swear electoral revenge on the other side.

But procedural motions do not, as a rule, bring voters flocking to the polls.

Don’t get me wrong: I don’t discount the importance of keeping the base fired up. It’s those junkies, those pundits, those interest groups who are the bedrock of political activity. That’s where the money comes from, after all. That’s where the volunteers come from. That’s what creates the passion you need for hard-core grassroots campaigning.

And I’m not discounting the importance of getting good conservative judges confirmed and working. “Conservative,” in this case, meaning someone who will interpret the law, and “the law” meaning the words that are actually written down on paper. The words written, voted on, and made into law through the due process that is itself already written down.

Judges who will take their positions – and the inherent limitations of their positions – seriously. Who will recognize that they are one small cog in a vast machine, created to sustain a democratic form of government over the long term.

Not judges who will see themselves as the saviors of all that is good and righteous. Not judges who will use their judgeships to reshape the law the way they think it ought to be, and never mind what the Founding Fathers and generations of judges gone by have done.

I’m not discounting any of that. I simply don’t believe this is as big an issue as those of us who live, breathe, eat, sleep, and use the potty inside the political wind tunnel seem to think it is.

Sure, we might get some off-year-election mileage by accusing a Democrat or two of trying to keep the Senate from voting. They might get a boost from calling the President’s nominees “extreme.”

Side question: what’s the shelf life on that particular word? Haven’t we pretty well used it up by now?

And it’s possible that this issue will stay alive long enough to matter when Iowa and New Hampshire gear up for 2008.

But while we true believers on the right and left wring our hands and sharpen our tongues, I think we’re putting the average Joe and Jane out there right to sleep.

Eighteen months from now, or twelve, or even six, will more Americans be able to name the first three post-filibuster-era nominees confirmed to the U.S. Court of Appeals? Or the last three living Jedi Knights?

I’m betting on the latter. And no, Anakin doesn’t count.

Swords, Plows, and Star Wars

The end of an era.

Well, not really the end. Star Wars is more than just a series of movies. It’s become part of the culture, if only to give Trekkies somebody to argue with.

Star Wars will live on, in books, games, comics, television, future re-makes, and, if you ask me, at least three more movies.

Yes, I think the last three will be made. Don’t you know how much money these things make?

I turned eight the year Star Wars first hit the screen. I saw it at a little one-screen theater called the Flicker Shack. Best name for a theater, ever.

And I was hooked. My brother and I spent weeks scrubbing floors to earn the ten bucks we needed to order our first action figures from a comic book – I got Darth Vader and Obi-Wan Kenobi, he got Han Solo and Chewbacca.

Yes, I still have them. No, they’re not in mint condition.

Five movies and dozens of action figures later, the saga has come full circle. I haven’t seen Episode III yet. Probably won’t for at least a couple of weeks. Don’t worry about spoiling it for me. I already know how it ends.

Will I be disappointed? I doubt it. I’ve loved each of the others, despite their obvious flaws. The child Anakin was a wooden actor (why couldn’t they cast that kid from “Sixth Sense?”). The teenaged Anakin was unbearably melodramatic and incessantly whiny. Neither got any help from the dialog.

The original trilogy wasn’t innocent, either. I’m nitpicking, but Luke must have inherited an inclination for melodrama from his father. And Princess Leia – tough, confident, hard-charging Leia – crying “hold me” to Solo? Who wrote that crap?

And don’t get me started on the Ewoks. As an alien species, they were fine (a confession: I liked Jar Jar, too). But defeating heavily armed Imperial Stormtroopers in battle?

I guess you can’t keep cloning from the same sample indefinitely.

Most of all, I couldn’t understand why Luke wouldn’t fight at the end of “Jedi.” Sure, I got that he couldn’t give in to his anger, a sure route to the Dark Side.

But, come on, the Rebel fleet is being systematically destroyed, Han and Leia and their small commando unit is pinned down, and unless this new Death Star is disabled, evil will triumph.

You can see that, Luke. You don’t have to “give in to your anger.” Just grit your teeth and do the job that has to be done. Save the universe.

Later, I figured it out: summoning the power necessary to win the fight would have pushed Luke directly to the Dark Side. Maybe the Rebellion didn’t stand much chance as things stood, but it stood no chance if that happened.

Luke chose instead to forgive his father, to lay down his sword, to have faith in something greater than himself. And, lo and behold, things turned out all right.

This is the great theme of Star Wars. Ultimate victory isn’t achieved through accumulation of power, but by being willing to lay power down. Not through greatness, but through humility.

In Episode I, Qui-Gon Jinn tells Obi-Wan he will become a “great Jedi Knight.” A harmless comment, perhaps, but put it together with Yoda’s comment in Episode II, about arrogance becoming more common among the Jedi.

Then there’s Anakin, swearing he will become the most powerful Jedi ever. A thirst for power – as well-intentioned as it may have been – led to his fall. Comfort in power led to the Jedi’s.

In contrast, Yoda and Obi-Wan became simple hermits. Obi-Wan willingly lost his final lightsaber duel aboard the original Death Star.

They sacrificed glory, and won out in the end.

On Dagobah, Yoda admonished Luke to leave his weapons behind. He didn’t, and Yoda later called the event a “failure.” In the end, Luke wins the battle not because he’s the strongest, but by recognizing his own weakness. By recognizing that the temptation will be too strong.

Yeah, okay, maybe the Force told him Dad might do something like he did, too.

Will I be thinking about this when I watch Episode III? Nope. I want to see the lightsaber duels, and the space battles, and the Wookiees.

But, for all his reputation as a raving liberal, George Lucas has given us a grand saga about the value of humility. Acceptance of our limitations as humans, and the need for faith in a higher power.

A lesson even Trekkies could learn.

E.T.: Extraterrestrial Bad Guy

Imagine your kids have a new friend. He’s small, and cute, and they just love him. Want him to come over to play all the time.

Then, he convinces your kids to lie to you, sneak out of the house, spend all night in the woods, steal things from your household, and race their bicycles high speed through streets and construction sites.

Without helmets.

As a dad, I wouldn’t think much of this friend. Most parents wouldn’t. Even Steven Spielberg. Unless, of course, this new kid is also an alien.

The reason I’m thinking about this: my family watched “E.T. the Extraterrestrial” over the weekend. I first saw it with my father back in (wanna feel old?) 1982 and, of course, loved it. So do my kids.

In a recent interview, Spielberg said that, when the aliens finally do arrive, he expects them to be friendly – E.T.-like, not like the invaders in his most recent “War of the Worlds.”

"I can't believe anybody would travel such vast distances bent on destruction. I believe anybody who would travel such vast distances are curious explorers, not conquerors," Spielberg said. "Carrying weapons a hundred-thousand light-years is quite a schlepp. I believe it's easier to travel 100,000 light-years with their versions of the Bible."

"We tend to project our own human aggression into outer space," Spielberg said. "It doesn't necessarily mean there is aggression out there.”

Uh-huh. Okay. If he says so.

But I’m not buying it. I don’t even buy it about E.T.

Consider: E.T. and his cohorts visit Earth. Why, we don’t know. E.T. is innocently collecting plant samples. That’s all we see.

Then humans appear. Large men wearing flannel and boots, their flashlights casting long spooky beams through the darkness and mist. They pound through the forest led by howling, gnashing dogs, chasing the small, frightened E.T., who just misses getting back on board the fleeing ship.

Enter Elliott: a small, curious boy. A middle child whose family is in crisis thanks to a divorce and absent father. Knowing that the humans are searching for him, E.T. casts his lot with this boy – the weakest human available.

Soon, Elliott and his siblings are actively lying to their mother, stealing things they know their mother will miss, conspiring to send Elliott into the woods overnight.

All for the purpose of getting E.T. back home.

Granted, children will do these things even without the influence of cute, telepathic alien invaders. But E.T. knowingly placed these children in far greater danger.

For example: this mysterious empathic link between Elliott and E.T. – a link that caused Elliott to become drunk when E.T. drank beer, that let Elliott know when E.T. was hungry, that nearly cost Elliott his life when E.T. became ill.

This link caused Elliott to suffer along with E.T., and, had Elliott been physically weaker, it could have killed him first. E.T. knew this: remember, the link let them feel each other’s feelings. If he was really so caring, he would have released the link earlier.

But no: Elliott was E.T.’s barometer. His canary in the mineshaft. His tool. E.T. released him when it suited his purposes, to convince the adults he had died, lowering their guard so he could escape.

Then there was the chase scene. Kids on bikes, federal agents in sedans, on a long and amusing (but reckless) race through their unfinished subdivision.

It looks like the chase is over when shotgun-wielding feds catch the kids with a roadblock. But wait! E.T. saves the day by levitating them all - flying above the cars, out of reach.

My question is: why did E.T. take all five kids? The other four weren’t much help – why not just him and Elliott?

Here’s a possible answer: he saw the firearms, and wanted extra bodies – shields – around him in case the feds started shooting.

You scoff? Prove me wrong.

Okay, I’m being ridiculous. I’m the overeager graduate student telling the celebrated novelist about the hidden metaphor in his book – the one even he didn’t know about.

Everybody knows E.T. was a good guy – a simple visitor, maybe a scientist, exploring an alien planet for the benefit of…um, E.T.-kind, I guess.

And, come on, he hid in a pile of stuffed animals. He let the little girl dress him. He’s so cute when he walks. And the kids loved him. We all know what great judges of character children are.

Grown-up Hollywood children, especially. If the aliens land tomorrow, let’s let Spielberg go first.

When Issues Collide

Two issues: voter ID and the minimum wage. So different, yet so similar.

Both are winners – at least, their supporters think they are. Statewide support for voter ID is over 70%. It’s just common sense: before you can vote, you should prove you really are who you say you are.

There’s no polling data on the minimum wage – not that I’m aware of, anyway. But Governor Doyle and legislative Democrats sure think it’s a winner. Or, they seem to.

Both sides are trying to get as much publicity for their issues as possible. Republicans continue to make hay out of voter ID, and Democrats try to match them with minimum wage.

Democrats have found allies in local government – at least three cities have already voted to increase the minimum wage within their borders (competitive disadvantage? What’s that?), and more cities are lining up to follow.

This economic cluelessness is lucky for Democrats, because the minimum wage argument is moot. They’ve already won. State law gives authority over the minimum wage to a state agency – the Department of Workforce Development. Legislative Republicans who oppose the increase can do nothing more than delay it. No matter what, in December of next year, the minimum wage is going up.

That means there’s precious little news to report on the subject. Or, there wouldn’t be, if not for those cities.

Republicans, on the other hand, have found unlikely allies in…Democrats.

Governor Doyle himself proved what a potent issue voter ID is, when he waited until 5 pm on a Friday to veto it, in a vain attempt to keep the public from noticing. The following Tuesday, the Assembly attempted to override that veto, but failed.

At the time, that seemed like it might bring the issue to a close. I wondered if Republicans had acted too quickly, not milked the issue long enough to maximize media coverage and the Governor’s discomfort.

Turns out I was worrying needlessly. With impeccable timing, the US District Attorney’s office in Milwaukee released a report, showing that yes, there was indeed voter fraud in the city. This put the Democrat argument that voter ID is a solution without a problem to an impossible test.

Senate Republicans quickly brought up another version of the bill – one with stronger provisions to prevent felons from voting.

That’s when the unlikeliest of allies made their appearance. Senate Democrats used a procedural tactic to delay a final vote until the end of this month at the earliest, thus ensuring at least one more round of news coverage. Thanks, Senate Democrats.

Sensing disaster, Governor Doyle tried to change the subject. He asked DWD to issue an emergency rule, increasing the minimum wage to $5.70 this year, and $6.50 next year.

Emergency rules are normally reserved for, well, emergencies. The emergency in this case was, I suppose, the bad press Doyle was getting over voter ID. Republican-led committees can kill the emergency rule, if they so choose, which would spark a heated round of media coverage featuring Doyle and the Democrats as champions of the little guy.

There are, it appears, compromises on the horizon on both these issues.

The Republican-led Legislature will stop delaying a higher minimum wage, if the Governor agrees to sign the minimum wage pre-emption bill, which keeps the minimum wage uniform across the state – local communities won’t be able to set their own.

There’s still some doubt about this: one news report said the Governor “will consider” signing the bill, if the Legislature lets the wage go up. A solid promise is more likely to be necessary, and even then – one side is going to have to go first, and trust the other to keep its word.

It looks like a Republican cave-in, but it’s not: remember, legislative Republicans can only delay – not stop – the increase. By tying consent to the pre-emption bill, they at least get something out of it.

Which leads one to wonder why Doyle would agree, and lose the issue he thinks is such a winner.

Plus, while Doyle’s issue ends, the Republicans’ issue – voter ID – will go on.

A compromise here is more problematic. Doyle and the Democrats have begun to sound willing to talk, but so far, their suggestions amount to little. One Senator tried to amend the Senate bill on Thursday, to allow an “official document,” like a paycheck or utility bill, to take the place of a photo ID.

That’s not a compromise: it’s a loophole the size of Lake Michigan.

Shadows of Drafts Gone By?

It still bothers me. Haunts my waking hours. It’s a scab that won’t heal. A mosquito, buzzing in the dark.

Why, oh why, did the Packers take a quarterback?

I know, this topic isn’t timely. The draft is weeks gone. I’d almost gotten over it, but my daughter had a birthday last week. That, plus Mother’s Day, meant a series of visits by family we don’t see that often. Conversation naturally included talk of the Packers.

This re-opened the wound.

The general opinion: sure it was a good pick, wish they could have gone for defense, but, well, shrug. Whaddayagonnado? Might as well look at the bright side.

So let’s do that. Set the scene: it’s Monday, October 3. The Packers are in Carolina, taking on a tenacious Panthers defense that still remembers the Monday Night schooling they got in Green Bay last year.

The offensive line has been struggling to protect quarterback Brett Favre all night. Struggling, but succeeding until one moment in the third quarter, when Julius Peppers slashes through the line, catching him unawares, blindsiding him.

They land awkwardly. Think Joe Theismann.

Favre out of the game, maybe the season, and maybe at the end of his career. In comes rookie first-round draft pick Aaron Rodgers.

The state of Wisconsin holds its collective breath.

And the rookie shines. Throws two touchdowns, wins the game, and spends the rest of the season leading the Packers – weak defense and all – into the playoffs, just like Brett used to do.

He’s Steve Young following Joe Montana, instead of…whoever that was who followed Dan Marino.

It could happen that way. Or, it could happen that Favre plays out the season and retires, clearing the way for Rodgers to become a star next season.

If either of those scenarios plays out, then I’ll have been wrong. Rodgers will have been a damn fine pick.

But…there are a few other scenarios we have to consider. For example: what if he’s a flop?

Hearken back to the draft of 1983. Six quarterbacks taken in the first round. Name them: Marino, Elway, Kelly…um…who else?

Six quarterbacks taken in the first round. Half of them turned into something special. Only one of them ever won a Superbowl.

Or how about the 1998 draft? The Colts took Peyton Manning with the number one pick – a worthwhile choice, I think we can all agree. The Chargers then traded up – and took Ryan Leaf.

Four years and five teams later, Leaf retired, having gone 4-14 in 18 career starts.

Draft picks are a lottery, especially in the first round. We don’t know how Rodgers – or any pick – will turn out. Javon Walker, Bubba Franks, and Nick Barnett were worthwhile picks. But Jamal Reynolds and Antuan Edwards…both flops, leaving little in their wake except a reminder that drafting players is, at best, an inexact science.

All that aside: one of two things is going to happen. One, Favre plays one more year and retires. Two, Favre plays two, three, maybe four more years.

If the former, we may be glad to have Rodgers. Or Craig Nall. Or maybe Scott McBrien.

Or, we may find ourselves waxing nostalgic for the Forrest Gregg years, when predicting five wins in a season was unrealistically optimistic.

If it’s the latter scenario, we may still be glad to have Rodgers – for the year he has left on his contract – or not. This scenario has an added bonus, setting it apart: the joy of watching a first-round draft pick do nothing but carry a clipboard and model headphones for three years.

I’ve heard it said that, if you’ve got the quarterback, you’re 60% there. Well, we’ve got the quarterback now. Yes, I appreciate the “best player available” mentality. I appreciate the Packers’ foresight in not selling out the future for a quick shot at the Superbowl. In Sherman we trust.

But, on Draft Day, the uncertainty that goes with drafting quarterbacks said to me: take somebody else.

If we’ve only got three years of Favre left, it’s more important than ever that we put the team around him to get us there, and then win. Now is not the time to stock for the future: the future is right now.

And if we’ve only got one more year of Favre left…then we’ve only got one more year of Favre left! It’s now or never – cloudy, the future is. Difficult to see!

Instead of building on a sure thing, we’ve gambled on a maybe.

Fighting Bob and Diamond Jim: Peas in a Pod

Fighting Bob LaFollette was a dirty politician. As dirty as they come. At least, that’s what Ed Garvey says.

Not in so many words, of course. But still.

Garvey, the über-liberal leader of Wisconsin’s “progressive” faction and curator of the FightingBob.com website, wrote the following, just a few days ago:

“Spivak & Bice report that the liquor wholesalers have ‘contributed’ $45,000 to (Governor) Jim Doyle's campaign. Officials from General Beverage in Madison have ‘given’ Jim Doyle $34,000 since 2000.

At the Milwaukee People's Legislature on Saturday, the group enthusiastically argued that ‘contributions’ or ‘gifts’ to candidates or incumbents should be labeled as ‘bribes.’

…

A bribe is given to convince a public official to vote a certain way to help the one who offers the bribe. But wait. Did the wholesalers give money to the governor for ‘good government,’ or do they have a particular agenda?”

Just to fill in the blanks, a measure in Governor Doyle’s proposed state budget is, apparently, favorable to those same wholesalers. Spivak and Bice suggest a quid pro quo. Garvey concurs.

Far be it from me to defend “Diamond Jim” Doyle from this accusation. His infamous flip-flops on Indian casinos were nearly as blatant as the hundreds of thousands of dollars Wisconsin’s tribes – the ones that own casinos, anyway – spent promoting his candidacy for governor.

And I certainly can’t fault Garvey for asking the question: did the wholesalers get something for their money? I’d like an answer to that, myself.

That is the crux of the matter, after all. Would the Governor have supported the wholesalers’ budget measure if they hadn’t given him money?

To Garvey and his followers, the question is beside the point. Doyle’s guilty. The fact of a contribution itself is enough to convict.

Just for fun, let’s apply Garvey’s calculus to another example. Just pick one at random…oh, let’s say…the 1912 campaign for President.

That year was a wild one for the Republican Party. The incumbent President, William Howard Taft (a Republican), was widely considered a disappointing failure, especially within the party’s Progressive wing.

Those early Progressives were led by none other than Wisconsin’s Robert M. “Fighting Bob” LaFollette who, naturally, became their choice to run against and hopefully unseat Taft, and to breathe real power into the Progressive movement.

So LaFollette ran. If not for Teddy Roosevelt’s late decision to enter the fray as another Progressive candidate, he may well have won both the nomination and the Presidency.

Running for President, then as now, requires money, and LaFollette received his share of help on that score. As he himself wrote in LaFollette’s Autobiography:

“The two Pinchots and Kent had each furnished a contribution of $10,000… Crane was contributing $5,000 a month, and had agreed to continue his payments monthly until the time of the meeting of the National Convention in Chicago.”

That’s Amos and Gifford Pinchot, who were born to wealth on the East Coast; and Congressman William Kent, from California. Adjusted for inflation, their $10,000 contributions would be worth $200,000 in today’s dollars.

That’s $200,000 each.

Charles Crane, whose family owned manufacturing interests in Chicago, was giving the equivalent of $100,000 a month.

I know what you’re thinking. LaFollette was as clean as the inside of a bottle of bleach. Suggesting otherwise is blasphemy in Wisconsin. He was the epitome of integrity in government – a man who spent his life pursuing what he thought was right, even though the path to power and glory was open to him, had he only compromised a little more.

And just a few minutes of Googling reveals that all of those above-named contributors are fondly remembered for their liberal (sometimes even socialistic), progressive, conservationist ideals and work.

But they were also rich, influential men, accustomed to comfort and power. They weren’t simply throwing their money at a symbolic-but-losing candidacy. No Quixotic charges at windmills here – men like that don’t follow hopeless causes. In 1911 and even early 1912, a LaFollette victory – and Presidency – was entirely possible.

And if he had won, he’s have owed those men…what?

Don’t blame me. I’m just applying Garvey’s logic.

Again, I’m not about to defend Doyle. I also wonder if I'm expecting a foolish amount of consistency, but if Garvey’s going to convict him on the basis of five-figure contributions, what does he say about those six-figure contributions – monthly six-figure contributions – to LaFollette?

Anything? Anything at all?

Just Make It Go Away

Nobody mentioned Selma, Alabama. Maybe there wasn’t time.

The Assembly today tried to override Governor Doyle’s veto of AB 63, the voter ID bill.

They failed. A veto override requires 66 votes. They were five short. The whole thing took less than an hour.

That was a surprise. Not the outcome: the time. In years past, this would have taken all night. Legislative Democrats would have launched themselves into long, bitter, acrimonious, and sometimes ludicrous speeches. Lots of them, to keep the debate going well into the night, even though everybody already knew how things were going to turn out.

It was all they had, really. It’s all the minority party ever has. They can’t win, so they make things as difficult as possible.

Two years ago, the debate over this very bill – voter ID – was a perfect example. Democrats brought out their big guns: Jim Crow, poll taxes, slavery, the three-fifths compromise, and yes, even Selma, Alabama. It went on for hours.

Not this time. Could be, the Democrats simply wanted to get home. Could be, they didn’t see the point of arguing when the outcome wasn’t in doubt. Could be, Governor Doyle asked them to get it over with quickly.

If so, he got his wish. Just five days after he vetoed voter ID, voter ID breathed its last.

For now, anyway.

As short as it was, the debate did have its moments: both disenfranchisement and racism came up, each with a new(ish) twist.

Rep. Joe Parisi (D-Madison) took on disenfranchisement, speaking briefly of the elderly and disabled, but moving on to another group: college students. They move a lot, you see, and are therefore more likely to have an old, out of date address on their ID. Thus, they won’t be able to vote.

College students. Our nation’s future.

Rep. Pedro Colon (D-Milwaukee) brought up racism, referring to “wetbacks” in a mocking imitation of a racist Republican or, more likely, the Milwaukee-area radio host who got in trouble a few months back for using that term on the air.

Colon, a Hispanic and, more importantly, a Democrat, can get away with that.

Irritating, these arguments, but not unexpected. Election reform opponents have little else to offer.

Just today, Madison’s “progressive” newspaper, the Capital Times, editorialized: “Not since the days of the segregated South has a state used its constitution to disenfranchise citizens.” (Capital Times, May 3, 2005)

In the same paper, a column by James Rowen called voter ID a “voter suppression bill,” and later concluded: “The practice would treat voters as potential felons, cheaters-in-waiting considered guilty until they proved their innocence.”

Pretty tame compared to Joel McNally, who just a few days ago wrote: “Republicans in Madison who are trying to throw up obstacles to disenfranchise minorities would not like to think of themselves as modern-day versions of the illiterate thugs who blew up black churches and murdered civil rights workers in the '50s and '60s.”

He concluded: “If requiring photo IDs doesn't turn away enough minority voters, we can always go back to the dogs and fire hoses.”

To most of us, that kind of talk is ridiculous to the point of parody. We gape, stare, shake our heads in disbelief, then turn our attention to something that matters.

This is the liberal left today: the circus freak tent of American politics.

Governor Doyle stands to be hurt by this issue. Legislative Democrats probably won’t be. They can afford to oppose election reform because most of them, like Colon and Parisi, are in safe seats. They’ll never lose an election.

Unless, of course, some other Democrat tires of being treated like an idiot, too stupid to acquire an ID card.

Or tires of being called a coward, too timid to brave the stares of angry-looking poll watchers or, more likely, elderly poll workers asking for picture ID.

Or, maybe, just tires of the idea that his vote might be stolen.

Possible, but unlikely. Timing’s an issue. With so much time before the next primary, people will forget. Whatever anger exists today won’t last, and a cash-strapped Democrat challenger to a small, Democrat-held Assembly seat won’t have the resources to rekindle it.

Not so the race for Governor. Doyle will have to face a well-financed challenger and a motivated state party, both of which have the luxury of knowing they’re on the right side of an 80-plus percent issue.

He, thus the Democrats, want voter ID to go away. And so, they let it.