This is painful to say. It goes against my very fabric and fiber. Yet I must speak the truth, so that it shall set us free.
The voters in Texas this week were a bunch of weak-kneed painty-waist sheeples.
There. I said it.
The Legislature placed 16 Constitutional amendments on the ballot for the voters' consideration, and every one of them passed by a comfortable margin. By an electorate that writes letters to the editors, calls talk radio, yells at the teevee, litters the clear evening sky with shotgun pellets, joins fringe groups, shouts at small children who dare to step on on a well-manicured lawn, complains about taxes and the no-good politicians who assess them, and generally carry on in a grumpy disposition -- certain that the powers-that-be are out to get them and ruin the Texas Way Of Life.
But voting? Sending a message via the ballot box? Reminding the fat cats in Austin who's REALLY the boss?
Nah. Not so much.
I mean, why send a message to the governing class when Bill O'Reilly and Lou Dobbs will do it for you? Why get involved in the political process when you can sit around and bitch about Hillary Clinton's presidency at your Wednesday poker game? Who has time to vote when there's a 5-percent-off sale at the Wal-Mart?
It's like the old boy who was asked if he were ignorant or just apathetic. He replied: "I don't know and I don't care."
Okay, now let's return to today's subject: the recent additions to the guiding framework of our state government. About half of the proposed amendments were no-brainers. Another four or so were close calls. The remaining four were so awful that Homer Simpson and Al Bundy could have led a successful drive against passage. But for some reason the "no" button wasn't working on the voting machines this week. Now, I'm all for being polite and all. But casting a "no' vote doesn't make you rude.
To its credit, Texas has always been frugal in its public spending, taxing, and borrowing. This is good. I'd rather waste money my very own self than have politicians do it for me. Yet the majority of voters, while sticking with the low tax/low spending deal, seem to be whole hog crazy about borrowing money and letting others pay it back some day. It's the 30-year Wimpy Plan: I'll gladly pay you Tuesday in 2040 for a hamburger today.
Billy Clyde, your man on the scene here, was not actually on the scene here on Election Day (I did vote early and flat wore out that "no" button). BC was in Washington State, which also had an election on Tuesday. The raw turnout was roughly the same in the Lone Star State and the Evergreen State. Difference is, Texas is home to about 24 million fine folks; Washington has about six mil.
Washingtonians opposed new taxes, sided with plaintiff lawyers over insurance companies, voted against an expensive Trans-Texas-style road plan, handcuffed school boards' ability to raise new money, and just said no to all new debt programs. The voters there -- get this! -- actually went into the booth and played the pick and choose game, in a semi-educated fashion, and took it seriously. Hell, if I didn't know better, I would have thought it was a well-informed electorate participating in a functioning democracy.
But let's get back to Texas.
Texans -- particularly those, like me, who grow up in rural East Texas -- abhor debt. Overdraft protection on your primary checking account is considered Communist. We'd rather quit our jobs and personally go build a new school than incur a penny of bonded indebtedness. If you are ever faced with the personal humiliation of having to borrow a cup of milk from a neighbor, you repay the debt promptly with a fat dairy jersey.
Our esteemed lawmakers, and by extension the voters who keep sending them to Austin, seem to think they have found a winner in the low-tax/low-spend/heavy-borrow political model. I mean, why should I pay for something when I can send the tab to the half-wit 12-year-old down the street? By the time the piper comes a calling, I'll be living in my paid-for, property-tax-frozen house and going to the movies for half price on my AARP card. The only time I'll worry about inflation is when it comes time to calculate my Social Security COLA.
Billy Clyde used to get mad at national Democrats for criticizing Ronald Reagan for his deficit spending. See, Reagan had a plan. Spend so much on defense that the Soviet Union collapsed, make sure nothing was left over for domestic spending, and cut taxes. (Win, Win, Win) Reagan didn't create a lot of national debt on a lark. He had a plan. And a damn good one.
The Texas Legislature, on the other hand, doesn't have a plan. If it did, it would be a piss poor one. Riddle me this, Batman: Why run a multi-billion dollar surplus in a short-term budget cycle in anticipation of local property tax cuts that are unlikely to materialize and the people don't seem to care about much anyway (though they should) and leave huge chunks of available revenue in the state kitty while issuing debt for things like pencils and toilet paper?
Remember that Wimpy hamburger deal that your dude Billy Clyde talked about a while back? I'd rather just pay for Wimpy's five dollar hamburger than pay 75 cents for it each year for 30 years. Call me crazy! Call me brilliant! Call me handsome! Hell, just call me!
The last time Texans took on state-level debt of this magnitude was in the mid-to-late 80s, when the oil and gas, real estate and financial services industries all sunk lower than whale feces. Lieutenant Governor Bill Hobby proposed the "Build Texas" program, a sorta low-rent WPA-type deal. Texas voters approved about half of it. Texas also approved some pretty big prison bond programs 15 years or so ago. But other than that, we have always prided ourselves in our pay-as-you-go mentality.
If the people of Texas really want to become a "borrow and spend" state and abdicate fiscal responsibility ... well, there ain't much Billy Clyde can do about it. Except bitch. And, dear friends, bitch I shall.
The voters in Texas this week were a bunch of weak-kneed painty-waist sheeples.
There. I said it.
The Legislature placed 16 Constitutional amendments on the ballot for the voters' consideration, and every one of them passed by a comfortable margin. By an electorate that writes letters to the editors, calls talk radio, yells at the teevee, litters the clear evening sky with shotgun pellets, joins fringe groups, shouts at small children who dare to step on on a well-manicured lawn, complains about taxes and the no-good politicians who assess them, and generally carry on in a grumpy disposition -- certain that the powers-that-be are out to get them and ruin the Texas Way Of Life.
But voting? Sending a message via the ballot box? Reminding the fat cats in Austin who's REALLY the boss?
Nah. Not so much.
I mean, why send a message to the governing class when Bill O'Reilly and Lou Dobbs will do it for you? Why get involved in the political process when you can sit around and bitch about Hillary Clinton's presidency at your Wednesday poker game? Who has time to vote when there's a 5-percent-off sale at the Wal-Mart?
It's like the old boy who was asked if he were ignorant or just apathetic. He replied: "I don't know and I don't care."
Okay, now let's return to today's subject: the recent additions to the guiding framework of our state government. About half of the proposed amendments were no-brainers. Another four or so were close calls. The remaining four were so awful that Homer Simpson and Al Bundy could have led a successful drive against passage. But for some reason the "no" button wasn't working on the voting machines this week. Now, I'm all for being polite and all. But casting a "no' vote doesn't make you rude.
To its credit, Texas has always been frugal in its public spending, taxing, and borrowing. This is good. I'd rather waste money my very own self than have politicians do it for me. Yet the majority of voters, while sticking with the low tax/low spending deal, seem to be whole hog crazy about borrowing money and letting others pay it back some day. It's the 30-year Wimpy Plan: I'll gladly pay you Tuesday in 2040 for a hamburger today.
Billy Clyde, your man on the scene here, was not actually on the scene here on Election Day (I did vote early and flat wore out that "no" button). BC was in Washington State, which also had an election on Tuesday. The raw turnout was roughly the same in the Lone Star State and the Evergreen State. Difference is, Texas is home to about 24 million fine folks; Washington has about six mil.
Washingtonians opposed new taxes, sided with plaintiff lawyers over insurance companies, voted against an expensive Trans-Texas-style road plan, handcuffed school boards' ability to raise new money, and just said no to all new debt programs. The voters there -- get this! -- actually went into the booth and played the pick and choose game, in a semi-educated fashion, and took it seriously. Hell, if I didn't know better, I would have thought it was a well-informed electorate participating in a functioning democracy.
But let's get back to Texas.
Texans -- particularly those, like me, who grow up in rural East Texas -- abhor debt. Overdraft protection on your primary checking account is considered Communist. We'd rather quit our jobs and personally go build a new school than incur a penny of bonded indebtedness. If you are ever faced with the personal humiliation of having to borrow a cup of milk from a neighbor, you repay the debt promptly with a fat dairy jersey.
Our esteemed lawmakers, and by extension the voters who keep sending them to Austin, seem to think they have found a winner in the low-tax/low-spend/heavy-borrow political model. I mean, why should I pay for something when I can send the tab to the half-wit 12-year-old down the street? By the time the piper comes a calling, I'll be living in my paid-for, property-tax-frozen house and going to the movies for half price on my AARP card. The only time I'll worry about inflation is when it comes time to calculate my Social Security COLA.
Billy Clyde used to get mad at national Democrats for criticizing Ronald Reagan for his deficit spending. See, Reagan had a plan. Spend so much on defense that the Soviet Union collapsed, make sure nothing was left over for domestic spending, and cut taxes. (Win, Win, Win) Reagan didn't create a lot of national debt on a lark. He had a plan. And a damn good one.
The Texas Legislature, on the other hand, doesn't have a plan. If it did, it would be a piss poor one. Riddle me this, Batman: Why run a multi-billion dollar surplus in a short-term budget cycle in anticipation of local property tax cuts that are unlikely to materialize and the people don't seem to care about much anyway (though they should) and leave huge chunks of available revenue in the state kitty while issuing debt for things like pencils and toilet paper?
Remember that Wimpy hamburger deal that your dude Billy Clyde talked about a while back? I'd rather just pay for Wimpy's five dollar hamburger than pay 75 cents for it each year for 30 years. Call me crazy! Call me brilliant! Call me handsome! Hell, just call me!
The last time Texans took on state-level debt of this magnitude was in the mid-to-late 80s, when the oil and gas, real estate and financial services industries all sunk lower than whale feces. Lieutenant Governor Bill Hobby proposed the "Build Texas" program, a sorta low-rent WPA-type deal. Texas voters approved about half of it. Texas also approved some pretty big prison bond programs 15 years or so ago. But other than that, we have always prided ourselves in our pay-as-you-go mentality.
If the people of Texas really want to become a "borrow and spend" state and abdicate fiscal responsibility ... well, there ain't much Billy Clyde can do about it. Except bitch. And, dear friends, bitch I shall.
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