Hold on. I have it here somewhere, in my Bobby Haircut file. Something about how the man was being snubbed, his position sullied. Imagine, people weren't even standing up when he entered the room. This was political rhetoric of the first order, the kind of soaring prose that sticks with you even later that day.
Ah, yes, here 'tis: Gov. Robert Ehrlich, chief executive of the Free State, standing before the General Assembly two weeks ago, shoving his script aside, laying it on the line: "It's about respect," Ehrlich told the state legislature. Theirs for him.
Now, just a few hundred hours later, I believe I speak for most of Maryland in saying, um, Bob, "respect?"
Would that be respect for the governor who sees no cause to apologize for the actions of a longtime aide whose idea of public service was to hang out on rabble-rousing Internet message boards, saying, Psst, didja hear about the mayor of Baltimore's illicit love child and his affair with a TV news babe?
Did you feel a wave of respect from the governor's office when Ehrlich said last week that he'd never even heard of such a dastardly rumor about Mayor Martin O'Malley? Or maybe you feel more respected now that Ehrlich has changed his tune and conceded that "you have to have been under a rock" not to have heard the rumor?
Perhaps the respect that's lacking is from the governor whose administration has fired dozens of state workers who happen to have been Democrats suspected of opposing Ehrlich's Republican agenda for the state. Nothing illegal about that, of course, but somehow it doesn't pop up among the first 10,000 references when I Google "respect." Why, the firings even smack of the Capitol Hill "assassin politics" that Governor Bob himself bemoaned in his earnest plea for -- what was that again? -- ah, yes, respect.
Let's be generous and suppose that it was respect for the time of state employees that led the governor to issue bans against a reporter and a columnist at the Baltimore Sun a few months back. Yesterday, a federal judge tossed out the Sun's lawsuit against Ehrlich, saying the newspaper has no more right to access to government officials than does your average taxpayer.
The judge is absolutely right; just because I declare myself to be a reporter doesn't give me any more right to public information than the guy next door. But what does this whole peevish ploy by Ehrlich say about his attitude toward the public as a whole? Government conducted in secret is inherently suspect. It's about respect, governor.
Is it respectful when Ehrlich refuses to take two clear nos for an answer to his passion for slots as the panacea to the state's budget woes? For a third straight year, Ehrlich is trying to balance the budget on the backs of those who can least afford it, low- and moderate-income folks who make up a hugely disproportionate share of the customers at slots palaces. Just as Prince George's County is pushing to create a retail and business landscape that better reflects the county's economic profile, it's Gov. Respect who wants to plop gambling emporia into the prime development spots.
Sunday's Washington Post poll on commuting revealed another fine example of Ehrlich's failure to comprehend that respect is a two-way street. While the governor merrily prepares to spend billions for an 18-mile highway linking I-95 and I-270, the Post survey found that commuters -- no matter their political persuasion, level of education or age -- have a much more nuanced view of what it would take to ease the jam on our roads. Ehrlich sees only the intercounty connector (which we must assume, at this price, will be built entirely of diamonds and gold), but the voters support a blend of solutions, including an expansion of Metrorail and a dedicated source of funding for Metro, as well as improved roads.
Ehrlich, like the president, prides himself on being a straightforward, decisive guy. You might disagree with him, but you know where he stands.
Unlike the president, the governor lacks a basic virtue, the one that might lead him not to hire a college dropout to be the state government's "Prince of Darkness," or not to try to sell to a friendly developer state land that the public bought expressly so it might be conserved.
It's about respect, governor.
