Editor’s note: Michael Ackley’s columns may include satire and parody based on current events, and thus mix fact with fiction. He assumes informed readers will be able to tell which is which.
… The last of the Spirits, dark, misty and virtually formless, loomed among the graves, and pointed down to One. The speaker of California’s State Assembly advanced toward it, trembling.
“Before I draw nearer to that stone to which you point,” said Karen Bass, “answer me one question. Are these the shadows of the things that will be or are they shadows of the things that may be, only?”
But the Spirit remained mute and immovable, hovering and pointing at the headstone.
Bass crept toward it, trembling as she went, and following the finger, read upon the stone of the neglected grave the dread legend, “Democratic Majority.”
“No, Spirit! Oh, no, no!” she cried.
Holding up her hands in a last prayer to have fate reversed, she saw an alteration in the Phantom’s hood and dress. It shrank, collapsed and dwindled down into her office coat rack.
Yes, the coat rack was her own, the desk on which her head had lain was her own, as was the well upholstered chair on which she now sat up.
I’m as light as a feather. I am as happy as an angel. I am as merry as a schoolgirl,” she exclaimed. “I don’t know what day or week or month this is!”
Rising from her chair, she hurried to her office window, threw open the sash and put her head out into the clear air of a Sacramento winter morning. She called to a passing assemblyman, “What’s today?”
“Eh?” said the lawmaker.
“What’s today, my fine fellow?” said Bass.
“Today?” replied the gentleman below. “Why, Christmas Day!”
“It’s Christmas Day,” said Bass to herself. “I haven’t missed it. The spirits have done it all in one night. They can do anything they like. Hallo, my fine fellow!”
“Yes, madam speaker,” returned the legislator.
“Do you know that tax – er, revenue proposal – we worked on in secret?” said Bass.
“Do you mean that prize turkey in which we call new taxes ‘fees’ to get around the two-thirds majority requirement?” the legislator asked. “It’s still in the hopper.”
“The prize turkey! There’s still a chance,” Bass told herself. “With that bill, we can save the state budget – and our pet programs.” Then to the legislator she said, “Go and get it and take it to the Assembly floor. Do it in less than five minutes, and I’ll give you a committee chairmanship!”
Off the legislator flew, and the speaker readied herself for her visit to the Assembly chamber. Once there, she found members of her Democratic majority exchanging smiles and pounding one another on the back, while the Republicans were silent and sullen. In short order, the “prize turkey” was adopted, among other things swapping the state’s 18-cents-a-gallon excise tax on gasoline for a 39-cents-a-gallon “fee” to fund transportation projects, and raising the income tax and other levies.
“This is a merrier Christmas than we’ve had for many a year. The bill is regressive, I know, but we won’t have to cut social programs,” Bass said. “And now that we’ve balanced the budget, it will be safe to raise our legislators’ per diem allowance.”
Bass was determined to be better than her word. She’d do it all, and infinitely more; and to the state’s deficit she’d be a second mother, and she’d never countenanced a cut in social programs. It would be said of her and her minions that they knew how to tax and spend, if anybody possessed the knowledge.
After a “God bless us, everyone,” she returned to her office, flopped in her chair and sighed, “I’m so glad I had those spirit visits, but I sure don’t want to see any more.”
With that, the door of her office burst open, and there, once again, hovered the dark, hulking Spirit of Christmases Yet To Be, radiating a chill that cut to the bone.
“Oh, Phantom,” she said, shaking, “why have you returned? Didn’t I keep my word? Didn’t I show the Christmas spirit by giving away so much of Californians’ treasure?”
For the first time, the Phantom spoke.
“You gave, all right,” intoned a hollow voice. “You gave of treasure taken from California’s working men and women.”
From the Phantom’s amorphous robe a bony hand extended, holding a newspaper of the future, which it cast on the desk before the speaker. Like an inscription on a tombstone, the banner headline read, “Democratic majority lost!”
“But we saved our tax bill; saved the budget!” cried the horror-stricken speaker.
“You failed to understand,” said the Phantom gravely. “Your ‘prize turkey’ sealed your doom. Besides, that, you won’t even get to enjoy that bird for a day. I’ll see to that!”
With this, the Phantom whirled toward the door, causing a flutter in a corner of its dark, misty cowl. In that instant, and the speaker caught a fleeting glimpse of Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger.
