This column is a vehicle for a number of items in a bits-and-pieces, strictly opinion, sometimes irreverent format. Look for "Just Sayin'" to run once a week in this spot.
Wonderland, Be Gone
Now I know how Alice felt when she fell through the rabbit hole. I think I've been down the hole for the past three days -- in a fantasy world populated by peculiar, anthropomorphic creatures who play with logic.
A political consultant told me this wouldn't happen. No rabbit hole here, he told me. "This is how session goes down year in, year out. Presiding officers plant flags and then compromise. Big decisions all get bumped up to the bosses."
Sure, but did it take 60 days + 3 -- that's $60,000-a-day for the last three -- for an all-Republican cast and crew to soap-opera it up, run around in a circle and come back to land on the same squares where they all started? Silly me, the Alice trying to make sense of it. All the time these guys were playing for votes and contributions, posturing to save face, pretending not just with each other, but with the public who still don't know all the things they didn't get.
If Sine hadn't died Friday night, I think I would have.
Here's the nonsense we got from the Mad Hatter and the March Hare in addresses at the end of the session:
Senate President Joe Negron, after twice blowing off Sen. David Simmons' sensible Herbert Hoover Dike repair measure because no way was the Legislature going to interfere in a responsibility that belongs to the Army Corps of Engineers: "... And we got the dike ... We respect the governor's relationship with the president. ... All of us want to keep the people of the Glades safe."
Sure, now we do.
House Speaker Richard Corcoran, after a session of decrying Enterprise Florida and Visit Florida as "corporate welfare": "The governor has developed a model for economic development that I think, in time, the rest of the country will follow. ..."
I wonder when the speaker started thinking that?
Negron was the leader who told reporters Thursday night the Senate had always supported the governor's business-incentive priorities -- it was the House holding things up. Blame the House. But wasn't it Negron who made sure the Senate didn't have the courage of its convictions when Negron was horse-trading with Corcoran to get the House's vote on his reservoir?
Meanwhile, Gov. Scott was every bit the spirit of Lewis Carroll. He was the writer. He held the key to happiness.
The governor got most of what he wanted from the start. And so did everybody else. The only real difference is, Scott not only saved the day during the special session, albeit behind closed doors, he looked good doing it. Negron and Corcoran, meanwhile, unlike the rest of the Wonderland characters ... may not live happily ever after.
RIP, Jim Harvey
Florida lost a tireless and devoted public servant May 21 when Jim Harvey lost his battle against cancer at age 73.
I only just learned of Jim's passing from his friend, Bob Mooney. But I can't let it go without a quick reflection of how stitched into the fabric of state government -- in fact, into the service of his country -- James Michael Harvey was.
I knew him best after Gov. Jeb Bush appointed him interim executive director at the South Florida Water Management District, where we had an occasional lunch together after governing board meeting -- not so much to talk about water issues (which I should have been doing), but to compare notes on our time in Vietnam.
Jim was a rare G.I. in an unpopular war. He didn't wait to be drafted, he enlisted. He served in the Air Force proudly and with distinction, stationed at Ben Hoa, nobody's favorite post -- it was the chief Agent Orange storage dump.
When you go see the film "Megan Leavey," think of Jim. He served with a dog unit under the most perilous of combat conditions, and he felt about his "partner" exactly as Megan does about hers.
I was in Da Nang during part of that war, more than 500 miles from Ben Hoa, not fighting but writing for The Observer of London. When Jim and I got together in West Palm Beach some 30 years later, we had a deep connection remembering distant yet familiar times and faces. We were relics, accepted it and were glad of it. Our conversation, I think, was mutually cathartic.
Jim got his college in, including his Master's in urban and regional planning at Florida State University, after the war. From there he served the state under governors from Claude Kirk to Jeb Bush, in all kinds of management positions, in the Energy Office, the Office of Management and Budget, the Division of State Planning, Division of Workers' Compensation, Southwest Water Management District and the SFWMD.
He went on into the private sector, lobbying for an array of mostly nonprofit clients, but principally for organizations that championed the environment.
His obituary in the Palm Beach Post includes a quote he once gave a magazine, which pretty much sums up his concern for the environment and the future: "My greatest hope is that together we are able to pass along the best of this unique environment and a high quality of life to our children's children. If we plan properly today, that kind of balanced, self-sustaining human and natural environment will be the result."
Jim is survived by his wife, Suzanne of West Palm Beach, two daughters and a son. This is a man who was old school in the best sense of the term. A man of character and honor. It comes as no surprise to me that his family is asking that donations be made in his memory to the Vietnam Veterans of America.
Reach Nancy Smith at nsmith@sunshinestatenews.com or at 228-282-2423. Twitter: @NancyLBSmith
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