Now I know that NPR must give us some relief from the suicide bombings that come, like clockwork, at the top of the hour. But I also know there is serious debate going on in the S.C. legislature and the piece on tattoo legislation was a cheap shot.
Although I've never considered enhancing my own body with an image of a flag or a dagger, I know there must be special moments when the only appropriate response is to imprint a skull or snake on one's thigh. Or, in some momentous circumstances, to affix a stainless steel ball bearing to one's tongue. No, I don't oppose body art in principle; my problem is the way that NPR presented the piece.
NPR found it necessary to seek out a Bible-thumper who said, on cue, that decorating one's body ran counter to the Old Testament. Not content with this regional caricature, NPR then gave us a legislator who said his opposition -- to making tattoo parlors legal -- was grounded in his desire to protect the "family friendly image that Myrtle Beach has built-up over the years."
Now any municipality principally served by Hooters Airlines and that is a well-known destination for bikers and their motorcycled-themed conventions has long ago compromised its "family-friendly image."
At one point I found myself pounding the dashboard and shouting, "Enough ... enough!"
I know. I know.
But while this silly little piece was playing on NPR the General Assembly was in a serious debate over the essence of government in South Carolina. Actually, it's not a debate. It's more of a food fight between the House, the Senate and the governor's office.
Last week that fight went public when a legislator recorded, and released to newspapers, a supposedly closed-door meeting between Gov. Mark Sanford and the House Republicans.
"You will be the first governor ever to sue the legislature. We're Republicans, and you are Republican. It's Sanford versus members of the House," began Speaker David Wilkins.
Sanford has threatened to sue because of something called "bobtailing" -- the practice of putting unrelated appropriations, also known as "pork," into a single bill. He thinks he has a constitutional duty to sue his colleagues in the House.
But Bobby Harrell, chairman of (the)House Ways and Means (Committee), argued that Sanford's own restructuring bill is full of unrelated items and further said "when the Senate does send you Medicaid reform with income tax and cigarette tax, but the income tax doesn't fit it. But your staff, at your orders, asked them ... to include all three of those things in the bill. You've asked the Senate to do exactly what you're talking about going to court to stop."
After this exchange a number of Republican legislators pleaded with Sanford to reconsider. Finally Wilkins asked, "Are you planning on filing suit?"
"That, I don't know. I am biased in that direction," said Sanford.
Sanford's argument is simple and attractive, and a lawsuit will enhance his approval ratings. But his relationship with the General Assembly will disintegrate. And Sanford can forget further restructuring -- transferring more power to the governor -- or anything else on his legislative agenda.
But the governor is a believer -- and he may well bring down his legislative house in order to make this point.
Wilkins, who knows that Sanford remains popular, is clearly worried. On the recording, he said, "It may be a great academic exercise for you, but it's bad politics for us."
