97silverlsc
Dedicated LVC Member
Posted on Mon, Jul. 11, 2005
Zell, idol on same track?
Will Forte, the over-the-top comic who plays Zell Miller on Saturday Night Live, just received a carload of fresh material.
Miller has been caught with his hand in the taxpayers' cookie jar - sort of.
When this nationally famous figure left the governor's office in 1999, he pocketed more than $60,000 in taxpayer funds earmarked for entertainment and other expenses at the Governor's Mansion, WSB-TV investigative reporter Dale Cardwell revealed last week.
Miller also picked up a check for more than $20,000 for "unused leave"-a sum to which he was not entitled as a constitutional officer, Cardwell also reported.
At first blush, such stuff may sound shockingly sleazy. Bear with us. Miller has an explanation, contained in prepared statements issued through his attorney.
In essence, Miller says that he was technically eligible to take the mansion money as his own because no one said he could not. "When I retired from state government, I received only what I was advised was legal, ethical and traditional," his statement read, citing an attorney general's official opinion from 1969.
Never mind that every other living governor from Jimmy Carter to Sonny Perdue told reporter Caldwell that they did not consider the mansion money theirs-and that they would not have taken it. The cash was meant for use at the mansion, not for lining the occupants' pockets, they said.
Common Cause and other good-government sorts denounced Miller.
As for taking the "unused leave" money, Miller - who served as a constitutional officer from 1975 to 1999 - said he was unaware of the rules barring the state's highest elected officials from cashing out their leave. He paid the money back - six years later - when the Atlanta TV guy started asking questions.
Ordinarily, this kind of corner-cutting in government is so commonplace that hardly anyone notices (or cares) anymore. In fact, a weather report temporarily pre-empted the second installment of Cardwell's TV piece on Miller.
However, folks, don't write this off as just another run-of-the-mill TV tale. This is about the Paul Bunyan of Peach State politics - a Georgia giant who in at least three recent books ("Corps Values," "A National Party No More: The Conscience of a Conservative Democrat" and "A Deficit of Decency") set out to establish himself as an arbiter of moral behavior in public office.
In his latest volume, "Deficit of Decency," Miller advises his readers: "Is it decent? is the right question. It's one all of us know and can answer, law degree or not. Is it decent? demands not wordy responses or over-educated legal beagles to interpret it, but simple truth, which doesn't need many words and doesn't lean into the technical."
A year ago, an angry, almost apoplectic Miller didn't hesitate to appear on national TV to rage against what he considered a loss of moral compass by his fellow Democrats.
In the summer of 2005, he declined to stand before the cameras to comment on his own conduct, instead assigning a legal beagle to offer technical interpretations.
If the writers at SNL can't make you fall down laughing with this stuff, send for Cardwell. He can crack up the country with accounts of what he has discovered about Miller.
There also is delicious irony and a bit of sad history worth considering here.
Throughout much of his political career, Miller claimed as his role model Georgia Gov. E. D. Rivers (1937-1941), an ardent New Dealer who introduced an impoverished Georgia to free schoolbooks, a nine-month school year and an improved public welfare system.
Alas, Rivers' achievements were eclipsed after he left office by what Miller once termed "vicious stories" of corruption that riddled his tenure. The wrongdoing involved prison pardons, paving contracts and allegedly swiping stuff from the old Mansion. During his 1991-1999 administration, Miller repeatedly cautioned his inner circle, "Rivers was a great governor, but I don't want to be remembered like he was."
Of course, reports on Miller, so far, are not nearly as serious as the accusations against Rivers. However, the beginnings of the parallels are obvious.
Supporters of Gov. Eugene Talmadge, once an ally of Rivers, lit the flames of controversy that wiped out the reputation of "Bow-Tie Eddie." One wonders whether some of Miller's fellow Democrats, tired of his invective and "decency" sermons, have not set out to do the same to Zell.
Word has it, there's much more to come.
Zell, idol on same track?
Will Forte, the over-the-top comic who plays Zell Miller on Saturday Night Live, just received a carload of fresh material.
Miller has been caught with his hand in the taxpayers' cookie jar - sort of.
When this nationally famous figure left the governor's office in 1999, he pocketed more than $60,000 in taxpayer funds earmarked for entertainment and other expenses at the Governor's Mansion, WSB-TV investigative reporter Dale Cardwell revealed last week.
Miller also picked up a check for more than $20,000 for "unused leave"-a sum to which he was not entitled as a constitutional officer, Cardwell also reported.
At first blush, such stuff may sound shockingly sleazy. Bear with us. Miller has an explanation, contained in prepared statements issued through his attorney.
In essence, Miller says that he was technically eligible to take the mansion money as his own because no one said he could not. "When I retired from state government, I received only what I was advised was legal, ethical and traditional," his statement read, citing an attorney general's official opinion from 1969.
Never mind that every other living governor from Jimmy Carter to Sonny Perdue told reporter Caldwell that they did not consider the mansion money theirs-and that they would not have taken it. The cash was meant for use at the mansion, not for lining the occupants' pockets, they said.
Common Cause and other good-government sorts denounced Miller.
As for taking the "unused leave" money, Miller - who served as a constitutional officer from 1975 to 1999 - said he was unaware of the rules barring the state's highest elected officials from cashing out their leave. He paid the money back - six years later - when the Atlanta TV guy started asking questions.
Ordinarily, this kind of corner-cutting in government is so commonplace that hardly anyone notices (or cares) anymore. In fact, a weather report temporarily pre-empted the second installment of Cardwell's TV piece on Miller.
However, folks, don't write this off as just another run-of-the-mill TV tale. This is about the Paul Bunyan of Peach State politics - a Georgia giant who in at least three recent books ("Corps Values," "A National Party No More: The Conscience of a Conservative Democrat" and "A Deficit of Decency") set out to establish himself as an arbiter of moral behavior in public office.
In his latest volume, "Deficit of Decency," Miller advises his readers: "Is it decent? is the right question. It's one all of us know and can answer, law degree or not. Is it decent? demands not wordy responses or over-educated legal beagles to interpret it, but simple truth, which doesn't need many words and doesn't lean into the technical."
A year ago, an angry, almost apoplectic Miller didn't hesitate to appear on national TV to rage against what he considered a loss of moral compass by his fellow Democrats.
In the summer of 2005, he declined to stand before the cameras to comment on his own conduct, instead assigning a legal beagle to offer technical interpretations.
If the writers at SNL can't make you fall down laughing with this stuff, send for Cardwell. He can crack up the country with accounts of what he has discovered about Miller.
There also is delicious irony and a bit of sad history worth considering here.
Throughout much of his political career, Miller claimed as his role model Georgia Gov. E. D. Rivers (1937-1941), an ardent New Dealer who introduced an impoverished Georgia to free schoolbooks, a nine-month school year and an improved public welfare system.
Alas, Rivers' achievements were eclipsed after he left office by what Miller once termed "vicious stories" of corruption that riddled his tenure. The wrongdoing involved prison pardons, paving contracts and allegedly swiping stuff from the old Mansion. During his 1991-1999 administration, Miller repeatedly cautioned his inner circle, "Rivers was a great governor, but I don't want to be remembered like he was."
Of course, reports on Miller, so far, are not nearly as serious as the accusations against Rivers. However, the beginnings of the parallels are obvious.
Supporters of Gov. Eugene Talmadge, once an ally of Rivers, lit the flames of controversy that wiped out the reputation of "Bow-Tie Eddie." One wonders whether some of Miller's fellow Democrats, tired of his invective and "decency" sermons, have not set out to do the same to Zell.
Word has it, there's much more to come.