Editor’s note: This op-ed is by Bob Stannard, a former lobbyist and author. This piece first appeared in the Bennington Banner.
It’s amazing how 30 years zips by with the blink of an eye, yet when you’re sitting in an accountant’s office waiting to hear how much you owe in taxes minutes seem to take forever.
On Tuesday, May 14, at 10:27 p.m., Speaker of the Vermont House of Representatives Shap Smith grabbed his solid wooden mallet and slammed it down on the accommodating block of hardwood as he declared the 2013 legislative session adjourned.
At that moment in time I declared myself officially retired. Retiring’s a strange thing. It’s not easy to do in today’s world. I’ve said before, I’m a very lucky person. My good fortune began the day that I met Alison Vickery at Castleton State College. I can’t really prove it, of course, but it does seem as though that since we met in 1970 that my life has been better off. We might not want to ask for her opinion on this matter.
The most often asked question I’ve heard is, “What are you going to do when you retire?” That’s the wrong question. The more appropriate question is, “What am I NOT going to do when I retire?” That’s a much more clearly defined list. One of the things I hope not to ever do again is to sit in a legislative committee room on a severely uncomfortable chair for hours listening to even more severely boring witnesses drone on in monotone voices about something incomprehensible. OK, it was never that bad, but some days … maybe.
I walked into the Vermont Statehouse as a state representative in 1983 and served three terms, six years. I lost the seat and was hired as vice president and general manager of East Mt. Transport, a waste hauling and recycling company. The running joke of my life is that I went from politics to garbage and considered it to be a promotion.
I’ve represented municipalities, citizens groups and agencies that deal with the poor. Most of my work over the years has been representing underdogs, folks who under normal circumstances wouldn’t stand a chance in the legislative process.
In 1995, after a meeting with Manchester town manager Jeff Wilson (who now holds my old seat in the Vermont House) and others, I worked to coalesce the so-called “Gold Towns” in an effort to address the issue of a statewide property tax to fund education. I was never a big fan of the property tax, as over time it has proven to be the least representative of one’s wealth. Increasing the dependency on this tax versus the income tax, a tax more in line with one’s wealth, always seemed like a bad idea.
The decision to call all 251 towns together for a meeting at Manchester Elementary & Middle School (back then it was just M.E.S.) resulted in what was to be a career in lobbying. Over the years I’ve had the privilege of representing some, shall we say, off the beaten path clients, clients that either no one wanted or clients who couldn’t afford the more expensive firms.
I’ve represented municipalities, citizens groups and agencies that deal with the poor. Most of my work over the years has been representing underdogs, folks who under normal circumstances wouldn’t stand a chance in the legislative process. I’ve stood up for neighbors who were being overrun by a corporate farm and represented regular Vermonters who were terrified at the prospects of Monsanto regulating and controlling our food supply.
For the past five years it has been an honor to represent Vermont Citizens Action Network and consult for Citizens Awareness Network. This is a group of volunteers. No one has been paid a salary but me. The executive director, Deb Katz, does get her expenses paid, but that’s it. These are people like you and me who recognize that nuclear power may seem to be a good idea in the short term, but in the long run is a very costly and dangerous source of power.
There is nothing more powerful in this world than people organizing. Nothing is more terrifying to politicians than an organized group of people promoting their cause. Nothing. The disadvantage that regular people face is that they really have little or no idea how the legislative process works. Yes, there is a handout available called, “How a bill becomes law,” but that handout has little to do with the reality.
Not unlike playing the harmonica, the legislative process is all about nuance. What you see is rarely what really is. The process is a tricky path filled with landmines. You can toss in a smoke machine and distorted mirrors just for fun.
I’ve been told by the best that I will miss Montpelier and I suspect I will on some levels. I will miss the good friends I’ve made and never-ending barbs, jabs, hallway chatter and camaraderie. I doubt I will miss the 100-mile one-way drive.
As I spend more time with my grandchildren, I want you to know that it’s been an honor to work in that building and spend time with the most decent and dedicated people I have ever known. You might spend more time thanking those who serve on our behalf versus criticizing them.
I do hope that the next 30 years go by more slowly, but I doubt they will.
