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Aquarian
Weekly 1/24/01
REALITY CHECK
EXILE
ON
ECOLOGY STREET-
CHRISTIE TODD WHITMAN IN WASHINGTON WINTERLAND
At
the behest of my furiously potent, if not rough-and-ready, managing
editor, CAPTAIN UHL, I aim to crank out a few hundred words on
the momentous confirmation of New Jersey governor, Christie Todd
Whitman as the next Environmental Protection Agency administrator.
After all, any act of professional charity is too paltry for the
man responsible for deflecting any potential law suits levied
on this publication as a result of this column, and as a fitting
literary tribute to the captain's undying service in pushing up
deadlines and penning the foreword to my second book--not to mention
some erroneous rumors I perpetuated regarding his love for terrorism
and high stakes gambling--I am game. 
But
all joking aside, as I stated to Mr. Uhl in a rather lengthy e-mail,
there is trouble for me whenever Tsar Whitman is the assignment.
Due
to an unfortunate freelance gig landing in the New Jersey Monthly
on the crack Whitman team some years back I was squeezed out,
denied access, and held responsible for depicting Whitman staffers
as "vapid hyenas stoked on low-grade bennies" and describing the
governor's vanquished tax cut proposal as "an economic fantasy
worthy of Asimov." It was honest reporting, very nasty stuff,
for which I've apologized more than once. But it was all for naught,
and there is no way I can thoroughly dissect this appointment
at the level I am accustomed, leaving me a limited peripheral
overview. But I like Whitman, just not as much as CAPTAIN UHL,
and duty calls so…
The
EPA appointment is, at its most basic roots, somewhere between
a party burial and laughable miscasting. Christie Todd Whitman
is pro-choice in a pro-life party with a pro-life president now
on the payroll of the religious right. There is little question
that her pro-choice stance had already taken her from darling
of the GOP to political pariah within 10 months of barely upsetting
Jim Florio for governor of New Jersey. So badly was her insider
reputation that someone who could very well have once been Bob
Dole's vice presidential running mate was left to fend off Jim
McGreevey in a tax war for re-election and was frozen out in the
party's national convention in 1996.
Political
corpses are hardly a safe bet for resurrection, especially on
a national level, and by the time I finished a column entitled,
"Partisan Suicide" (Aquarian Issue 11/18/97) Whitman's political
funeral had already commenced. And make no mistake, the EPA is
where the politically dead go when their party is trying to simultaneously
build its female base and hide the baby-killers. But addressing
the overwhelming numbers of women voters who are pro-choice and
attempting to breed harmony after a paper-thin victory decided
by the Supreme Court makes for strange political decisions.
Which
brings us to another level of this appointment's roots: the mere
fact that anyone responsible for New Jersey could possibly be
in charge of an environmental anything. This makes sense only
when confronted with George Bush's environmental record in Texas,
which is, at best, criminal. In 1995, Whitman's nearly $80 million
slashing of New Jersey's Department of Environmental Protection's
budget was good for trimming governmental fat, but so severe Senator's
were holding press bids to slam her.
"Because we don't have dead dolphins washing up on shore, the
environment is obviously not the same issue it was," said David
Pringle, campaign director for the New Jersey Environmental Federation,
in 1996.
Pollution fines decreased every year during Whitman's one-plus
terms while the northern part of the New Jersey Turnpike still
twists under a pall of chemical reek. And although these items
don't necessarily label Whitman as a concubine to industry and
Satan's land rapist, it doesn't leave her resume with a mother-nature
glow either.
Whitman, like most Republicans, doesn't care much for agencies
and government regulators, but finds herself ironically cornered
into one for ostensibly a promotion, but in reality, a political
prison to which there will be no easy exit.
As for her truncated legacy as governor of the Garden State, there
can only be praise for keeping the Devils from moving to Nashville
at the expense of taxpayers and a doubled parking rate for every
event held at the Meadowlands. New Jersey is still high on the
car insurance gallows, mostly jacked by the worst drivers in the
48 contiguous states, fraudulent claims from gun runners and bookies
slipping over the George Washington Bridge clamoring for no sales
tax, and a shoreline ripe with bloated expenses.
But Whitman was funny when pressed, and she is a woman, for which
there has to be some measure of victory. Howard Stern seems to
like her, and she was quite adept at smiling on the promotional
ads for wildlife. But now the poor thing is headed for a black
hole with no bottom and very little leverage, but it's good work
if you can get it.
Reality
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