Summer Scenario

by Craig Ruff
February 16, 2010

The following events are fictional. Only the players are real.

The Detroit Chamber’s Mackinac Policy Conference opens on Wednesday, June 2. Downstate in Lansing, the Big Three (Granholm, Bishop, and Dillon) concede that they are solar years away from hatching a budget deal for 2010-11.

Fed-up business, civic, and association leaders gathered on the island greet Lansing’s pooh-bahs on Thursday. Some attendees sport “3 Times, You’re Out” stickies, referring to the third time in three years that the Big Three put the state, schools, and municipalities on the precipice of no budget.

What conferees do not know is that all three have decided to get out.

The governor sped up plans to join MSNBC to replace Keith Olbermann. Sagging ratings and an on-air meltdown having to do with Sarah Palin and a hockey stick forced MSNBC’s hands. It needs her now, right now, and it’s now or never. She inks the contract and plans to vacate the governorship on June 7.

Senator Bishop has struggled to chow down chicken thighs with local Republicans in his bid to win the attorney general nomination. Tethered to an unremitting three-day workweek in Lansing, Bishop has just informed his caucus that he steps down as majority leader on June 7. He tells them that he may resign his Senate seat if the body insists upon meeting so often.

Speaker Dillon resolved back in March that he would vacate leadership as soon as a budget deal was hatched. Unhatched by June, Dillon concludes that it was a waste of time negotiating with has-beens. He will focus on winning the governorship and fixing problems next January. “See a few of you next year,” he said to a numbed caucus, before propelling to the island.

Mackinac Conference attendees on Thursday attend the traditional Lansing Leadership Panel discussion. In turn, Granholm, Bishop, and Dillon announce their plans, say sayonara, and, in unison, sing “Nearer, My God, To Thee.” Hangover-handicapped reporters grope their ways to the media room, as audience members cry out, “God Save the New Queen and Kings.”

The constitution puts Lieutenant Governor John Cherry in Granholm’s seat at the negotiating table. Senate Republicans quickly select term-limited Patti Birkholz as the new majority leader. House Democrats caucus and pick Dundee’s Kathy Angerer, also term limited, as the new speaker.

The Caesarian section of the ancient regime catapults three likable and savvy negotiators into the defenses of the state. In a non-boozy Sunday night chat on June 6, they exchange condolences, agree to meet face-to-face instead of text messaging, and promise to put on Facebook photos of their kids. They jump to the conclusions that the people’s business can be done openly…quickly…and pragmatically. Attorneys have advised each of immunity from fast-track recall efforts. Each embraces a get-me-outta-here-the-faster-the-better attitude of which even Voltaire would have been proud.

On the fateful Monday, June 7, the new Big Three huddle around the end of a pool table at Lansing’s The Firm bar. As lobbyists and reporters take turns breaking and heads dodge flying cue balls, Cherry, Birkholz, and Angerer scratch numbers on bar napkins. Four napkins later, they cement a deal.

Just after midnight, the new Big Three initial beer-soaked napkins. To wit, they make cuts, undertake reforms, restructure taxes, and jack up state revenues. The next morning, they meet openly at a family-friendly joint, work through all the details, and agree to sell the solution to colleagues.

What the old cannot achieve, the new can…and does.

Until the summer of 2010, limiting terms has been a foolish exercise in populism. The early summer of 2010 proves that voters were onto something in 1992.

Craig Ruff is, among many things, a senior policy fellow and former president of Lansing-based Public Sector Consultants.