State Government

The political trunk sale that follows every round of redistricting is underway in earnest, with candidates checking out the new goods and signing up for the stuff they want.

Legislative negotiations are usually scripted like madcap romance movies: Boy meets Girl, Girl ditches Boy, Boy and Girl smooch and ride off into the future. Before the closing lip-lock, there’s always a big fight that looks like viewers will go home unhappy with popcorn stuck in their molars. If it’s from Hollywood, though, you always get your kiss.

News accounts a couple of years ago detailed the death of a man who hooked a rocket engine to a motorbike in an attempt to jump it over a canyon. The takeoff went as planned, but the rocket-powered bike aimed too low and smashed in to the opposite wall of the canyon. If he’d made it across the canyon, he’d have been a star. Instead, the rider got a posthumous “Darwin Award,” given to people involved in accidents that defy common sense.

Before the inevitable court battles over redistricting, the Republicans in the Legislature have to draw maps, get them passed and get the governor’s signature. And the game for the next week is relatively simple to explain. The House passed the same plan it passed in the first and second special sessions. It creates a new seat dominated by Midland County, home of House Speaker Tom Craddick, and pairs (among others) U.S. Reps. Charles Stenholm, D-Abilene, and Randy Neugebauer, R-Lubbock. Some of the political folk in Lubbock don’t like that plan, because it would cost them either a Republican congressman or the ranking Democrat on the U.S. House’s agriculture panel. Both are important.

The third special session this year — in fact, the third special session in more than a decade — starts at midmonth, and nobody has a clear idea what will happen. The Democrats are back in Texas, but say they have new tricks in their bag. The Republicans have the legislative quorum they seek, but have no agreement on a congressional redistricting plan. And the courts aren’t done with the wreckage of what was, just a year ago, still a bipartisan government.

Sen. John Whitmire, who’s been in the Senate longer than anyone else and in the Legislature longer than all but four others, returned to Houston after 37 days in the Land of Enchantment, providing relief to Republicans and anguish to Democrats.

Statewide offices are full of ambitious people, and governors of Texas have been historically besieged by people who want their jobs, or their power. Bob Bullock, first as comptroller and then as lieutenant governor, was a special pain in the necks of Gov. Mark White and then Gov. Ann Richards. For Gov. Bill Clements, the bad news regularly arrived from the offices of then-Attorney General Jim Mattox. And for Rick Perry, it would appear that the thorn bush is rooted at the Lyndon B. Johnson State Office Building, headquarters of Texas Comptroller of Public Accounts Carole Keeton Strayhorn.

This special session of the Legislature never officially convened on the East end of the Capitol, and if the Democrats came back this minute, there wouldn’t be time to pass a congressional redistricting plan. The Senate never got a quorum, and could never send bills to committee, much less hear them, amend them, pass them, and all that jazz.

You have to wonder how Texas legislators would act if average people were actually paying close attention, or if those voters really, truly, deeply cared about congressional redistricting. The summer battle over new maps has held the state media’s attention. It’s still common to see seven to nine television cameras at press conferences and stakeouts and group gropes at the Capitol. And the public is certainly aware that Democrats left the state over a political fight. But the issue hasn’t even held a dominant spot on talk radio shows, much less in the regular conversations of Texas civilians. The vegetables are right there on the plate, but the diners aren’t biting.

Wear their shoes for a minute.