Legislators waste time with tactics worthy of frat house

Freshman state Sen. Bill Tallman is 76 years old and has the quiet presence of a literature professor. Tallman, D-Albuquerque, actually had a long career as a city manager before winning election to the Senate, so he was ready for the demands of balancing a budget in bad times. He dived into his work as soon as he arrived at the Capitol, studying proposed legislation, saying little and listening so he could learn.

It’s too bad that most of his veteran colleagues aren’t so earnest.

Each time a freshman brings his first bill before the Senate, he’s harangued through a timewasting initiation ritual. In Tallman’s case, the Senate’s old guard pelted him with procedural minutiae and questions that had nothing to do with his bill to prohibit public inspection of unpaid warrants.

Sen. Jacob Candelaria, D-Albuquerque, even asked Tallman what his sign is. Tallman didn’t know, nor did he care. The Senate brain trust eventually determined he’s a Virgo.

Candelaria and the rest went through the farce of defeating Tallman’s bill. Then the Senate wasted more time by moving to reconsider it for a legitimate vote. The bill carried 32-7 the second time.

Senators could have heard 25 more bills in committees during the time

they wasted on one. As for Tallman, he seemed perplexed by the Senate’s attempt at comedy with so much work to be done.

Another freshman senator, Republican Jim White of Albuquerque, was the target of an even more elaborate charade.

Senators choreographed a 21-21 vote on White’s bill requiring drivers to yield to any stationary vehicles flashing emergency or hazard lights. Then the senators said it was all a joke, though they hadn’t amused anyone. They voted again and approved White’s bill 39-1.

Some might ask what’s wrong with bringing a touch of Animal House to the Capitol, with breaking up the tedious days and nights with a rite of passage worthy of a fraternity house.

The answer is as obvious as red ink on pages of budget proposals. New Mexico has a projected deficit of $120 million, and its credit rating is at risk of being downgraded again. Just as important, state legislators only have 60 days to fix the problems. Now they’re down to the last two weeks.

I’ve focused on the Senate not because it’s the worst legislative body at the Capitol but because it’s the better one. Even with its embarrassing initiation ceremonies, the Senate works with more skill, decorum and professionalism than the House of Representatives.

During a special session last October to solve another budget crisis, the Republican-led House launched a debate at 2:37 a.m. on reinstating the death penalty. That maneuver wasn’t a serious attempt to discuss public policy. In fact, Republicans gave no notice to the public before engineering the early-morning vote for purely political reasons.

They hoped to brand Democrats as soft on crime just before the general election. Instead, the public responded by ousting five Republicans, giving Democrats control of the House this year.

One reason the New Mexico Legislature isn’t a shining example of competence is because it’s a closed society.

New Mexico is the only state that doesn’t pay its legislators a base salary. Under this system, relatively few people can afford to run for office.

Public employees, retirees and an abundance of attorneys dominate New Mexico’s House and Senate. Many of them win again and again because the pool of challengers is shallow or nonexistent.

The system of an unpaid Legislature took root more than a century ago. That was an era when women couldn’t vote, and a few well-to-do men met in Santa Fe every other year to make the laws.

Now, with 2 million people, New Mexico only has to fill 112 state legislative seats. But the citizen Legislature shuts out a lot of talent and allows for even more nonsense, including lowbrow rites of initiation and predawn votes staged to demonize political opponents.