Zaldy and the governor

Zaldy, Zaldy, my friend, it must be tough to be the conscience of the far left, to continually be controversial in the face of no controversy, to keep selling those darn newspapers when there’s almost nothing to write about.

C’mon, let’s go down the checklist.

No junkets. No scandals. No lavish spending. No petty bickering between the Houses or even on the floor, for that matter. My goodness, Zaldy, been up there lately? Like a wake. Maybe because the new governor pulled the cell phones and imposed a cutback on gasoline rations. What’s to report? Why not come late and later to press conferences, huh? No Rose Bowl Parade for us this year, either.

My goodness, the governor says, “I’m doing this…” and bingo, it’s done.

And the money has dried up. No fun. Boy, I miss the good old days, don’t you? It seemed every other week Smiley was off visiting someone somewhere with a bunch of his cronies on official business, as he fudged us to believe. This 100-day wonder we got today? Pays his own way. Unheard of, I gotta tell you that. It was a joy to read the newspaper back in the old days. No more. It’s gotten so bad I’m reading every single word in the classified section. Twice. Gotta be a kernel of something nasty in there to write about.

You too, Zaldy?

Back then things were so disarrayed every mother’s son and daughter from under every rock and agency got their names in the paper. Sort of like a rescue mission, the way they made it sound. It was in the budget or by board decree, anyway. Spend it or lose it, I always say. They were bumping into each other at the gates to get out. Time enough to throw a barbecue, the lines were so long. But that’s when we had more flights. We couldn’t stop them from going off-island to every obscure meeting imaginable at my, at our expense, Zaldy, do you realize that? Nobody tried, anyway, because they were on the next plane out, too, fercryinoutloud.

So who’s running the place anyway? And did they cross paths with the former governor out there? Jezzus, take a number.

Nowadays, and to appear they’re doing their fiduciary best, things are so desperate on the hill even the minority block in the Legislature is compelled to make headlines. Blackmail? Yeah, if you’re referring to Stanley.

Pass the budget? That guy is still stuck on $230 million under the old regime four years ago. But then again he’s been up there way, way too long. Should’ve taken the hint when the other dinosaurs were eviscerated.

Separation of powers among branches? Heart-pounding stuff thinking of the founding fathers and the U.S. Constitution way back then. But when the salary cuts come and the government funds for personal office allotment is reduced, they’ll be glad they never pushed for it.

Overtime pay? Go pitch a tent behind the Aquarius during working hours, and yellow-tape the BBQ area while you’re at it.

Just plain ol’ rehashed stuff not worth a goodly one hundred days. But you gotta try, Zaldy, hang in there, hear?

In his State of the Commonwealth address the new governor claimed that the CNMI is broke. No one clapped. Not a peep on education. The college’s brokers walked out.

Save the dock? The floating hotels are coming. A fisherman’s wharf restaurant to buy all the fish the activists claim they will bring in and to satisfy the culturalists at that other location a few hundred yards away.

He also said the former administration overspent to the tune of $155 million in unreserved deficit. Some city fathers in the audience shook there heads in disbelief. Hustle, Zaldy, might there be a story there?

Okay, listen up, can we still hammer on the other guy—noted for his practiced smile and nothing else in between—who swore, “It’s pretty darn good.” Didn’t he swear our budget was balanced? Guess not, that’s old news.

New guy slashes the budget. Better start tightening your belt. And what can you write about slashing the budget anyway, Zaldy? It gets stale after several columns.

The dirt, where’s the dirt?

What’s that feminist magazine, Ms., or something like that? The one that wrote about abuse of our female guest workers, stopping just short of being a dazzling porno website? Zaldy, let’s get on the bandwagon and do something like them! Write a book! Deep Throat and Bob Woodward, he’s still selling. Better yet, go Hollywood! A screenplay like, Wag The Dog In Paradise On A Starlite Night. Leave the fluff to the other reporters and columnists, realizing they’re scrambling to get a paycheck—just like you, Zaldy.

And, heck, if I remember correctly, you wrote two columns that were actually complimentary of Governor Fitial—in a backhanded sort of way but that’s showbiz. Nice technique though, being contrary, huh? As far as it goes.

Still selling newspapers, Zaldy?

The problem you got is that the newly elected administration is steadily moving forward with strong leadership and purpose of mind. Let’s have no lip and wake up that guy in the back. Everybody got the picture? Now let’s join hands then go out there and do it, hey!

One official up there on the hill claimed he felt like a boy scout at their executive-legislative meetings. Yeah, buddy, I remember those days up there on the hill when nothing got done, you postured and primped and left for the day even before lunch, if you ever showed up for work in the first place. What a way to make a living, a fat living. Nice spiffy shirt and tie, anyway, great for photo ops.

There’s a bunch of so-called investors with some salape waiting in the wings but that’s not controversial. You say it probably won’t happen anyway, huh, Zaldy? Leave the goody-goody stuff to the other reporters. Could happen tomorrow.

What’s to expose, I ask you? Shucks, this new guy is telling secrets about everybody and everything on Harry’s show every Wednesday there’s no more mystery in running a government. So what’s to write about? It’s already been said: Old news is no news.

Man, we need something like the past four years. Great theater. Even the last 12 years if you want to get technical about it.

There was so much garbage in the previous administration, with hands in the till and out the door, it must’ve confused you. Even my filing system was spilling over with goodies. What to write about next? Upper management reluctant to give you more space in the editorial section, Zaldy, since Smiley got dumped? And whatever happened to that P Magazine? They might need a good exposé writer but wait, did they exit, too, with the former governor?

Maybe we should wait on tables at Miggy’s—until everything blows over.

Holani Smith
via e-mail