One of my favorite books, as a child, was “The Cat in the Hat” by Dr. Seuss. You probably remember the story. The Cat shows up on a rainy day, with the apparent intention of entertaining two hopelessly bored children, and ends up turning the house into a designated disaster area.
For me, Dr. Seuss’ comically inane poetry made the whole thing into a delightful romp through a child’s imagination.
As you will recall, the Cat ultimately saves the day by repairing the destruction, and putting everything back into its proper place, just before the Mother arrives home from her errands.
Then we saw him pick up all the things that were down. He picked up the cake, and the rake and the gown,
And the milk and the strings, and the books and the dish, and the fan and the cup, and the ship and the dish,
And he put them away. And he said, “That is that.” And then he was gone, with a tip of his hat.
The children are amazed, and delighted. Then the Mother comes in, and says to the children: “Did you have any fun? Tell, me, what did you do?”
And Sally and I did not know what to do. Should we tell her about it? Now, what SHOULD we do?
Well, what would YOU do, if your mother asked YOU?
Well, we’re all grown up now, and we’ve made a mess of things, trying to have fun. We didn’t need a Cat to ruin things; we made the mess all by ourselves. We built a million miles of pavement, going everywhere, and drove our cars and trucks back and forth on it, until it began to fall apart. We built government offices and jails, and allowed the roofs to leak until mold was growing in the walls. We designed a massive baby-sitting service — our public education system — and hired young teachers and assigned them the difficult job of child rearing, so we could work two or three jobs, and fill our garages and attics with outdated electronic gizmos and recreational equipment.
Mother would not be happy, if she saw what we’ve done.
What now? If only we had the Cat’s amazing vehicle that could mechanically clean up the mess… as we happily sit in the driver’s seat…
Technology, to the rescue.
But we don’t have a magic machine to fix the mess. Either we clean it up ourselves, or we leave it to our children and grandchildren.
We know that roads and highways are appreciated by the people of Colorado.
We know that public education is appreciated by the people of Colorado… along with law enforcement and fire protection.
No doubt, we can include the provision of clean drinking water among the many things we appreciate.
How far does our appreciation extend?
This November, Archuleta County voters will have a chance to show their appreciation, for many of the things that our governments provide. By voting in favor of Amendment 73, for example, we can increase income and property taxes for ourselves and our neighbors — and increase the state’s contribution to K-12 education by $1.6 billion a year.
We’ll also have a chance to increase our local property tax contribution for our local schools, through a $1.7 million-per-year ‘mill levy override.’ (This local ballot measure does not yet have a ballot title or number, but I’m guessing it will be called “3A”)
We’re not quite sure, yet, what these millions of new educational tax dollars will be used for. Salaries, of course. But who’s salaries? Administrators’ salaries? Teachers’ salaries? Bus drivers’ salaries? No doubt we will learn more as November approaches.
On the same ballot, we will have a chance to put the state of Colorado about $15 billion deeper in debt, to pay for repairs to our highways, bridges, and other transportation infrastructure — by approving Proposition 110 and/or Proposition 109. About $9 billion would actually be used on transportation repairs. Another $6 billion would go into the pockets of investment bankers.
Likely, you will also be asked to authorize the Board of County Commissioners to put the County government $25 million in debt to built an oversized jail and Sheriff’s office, so that we can eventually abandon the historic County Courthouse, neglected for so many years by so many elected County commissioners.
We made the mess, but we didn’t want to clean up after ourselves, so it will be left to the next generation to figure out, and to pay for. When our children come home from their expensive colleges, they will find that we’ve left them deeply in debt, and have priced their housing beyond reach.
I’m not the only one feeling disheartened by the direction we’re headed at the moment.
I wish there were a fairy tale ending to all this. In my childish imagination, I can imagine an America where we gladly pay, year after year, to maintain our public buildings and other infrastructure, without yoking the next generation to massive bond payments. Where housing is as available as clean drinking water. Where parents fully participate in their children’s education and upbringing, and where schools are merely an incidental support system.
Where is Dr. Seuss, when we really need him?