Familiarity and frustration tied to 49-49 House split

DAVID AMMONS

Originally published April 15

OLYMPIA -- According to the old ballad, love's supposed to be sweeter the second time around.

But it's hard to get Republicans and Democrats in the state House of Representatives to feel much of that rosy glow as they endure an unusual tie in membership for the second straight time.

To be sure, it's less strange this time around, since they learned from experience what works, what doesn't -- and what isn't fixable, but must be merely endured.

If anything, it's externals like the earthquake, moving to inadequate space and facing budget and transportation dilemmas that sometimes seem more vexing than the chronic misery of being all tied up.

It was a tie that no one predicted. After struggling with a 49-49 split for only the second time in history in 1999 and 2000, the two parties spent an eye-popping $11.9 million to try to break the tie.

But in the same year that races for president and Washington's U.S. Senate seat went down to the wire, the state House amazingly wound up right where it was before the campaigns -- tied again.

House Co-Majority Leader Lynn Kessler, D-Hoquiam, called the first two-year tie a "shotgun marriage" of incompatible mates. So what is the second tie like?

"It's like being in a marriage that's gone under, and you can't get out of it and you're staying together for the kids," Kessler said. "You can kind of muddle through a tie for two years, but I wouldn't wish this on anybody four years in a row."

Rep. Maryann Mitchell, R-Federal Way, agrees: "It gets harder. For the first two years, we knew we were part of something that had happened for only the second time ever, so we adopted an attitude of 'We'll make the best of it.'

"But it wasn't meant to work this way. It was designed to have one party in the majority with an agenda and a focus. This is craziness. The voters didn't send us down here because we agreed with people in the other party. Otherwise, why did we campaign and why are there two parties?"

Cheez Whiz

As in the two previous ties, the parties are sharing everything even-Steven. They have two speakers, two clerks, two majority leaders, and co-chairmen for each committee. Both parties have absolute veto power over the other's legislation. Both co-chairmen have to agree to committee agendas, and a bipartisan vote is needed to advance a bill.

By the time legislation finally makes it to the House floor for "debate" and passage, usually by a 98-0 vote, "It is so much like overcooked oatmeal," Kessler says. "I mean, who cares anymore? It has no flavor. It has no zest."

The mutually assured destruction dooms most of the main bills the two parties care about.

"We are passing out Cheez Whiz Lite," sighs Rep. Hans Dunshee, D-Snohomish.

Horse-trading can sometimes bridge the gap, with each party getting part of what it wants in a bill, but that's the exception.

The House produced a major water bill last week that way: "We (Democrats) want more water for fish," Dunshee says. "Where can we get that? We can pay farmers to get more efficient. OK, that works. They (Republicans) get some pork for their districts and we get some water in the stream."

But more often than not, stalemate and standoff are the norm.

Bill introductions were way, way off this year, Republican Co-Speaker Clyde Ballard of East Wenatchee says. Lawmakers limited themselves, knowing that anything with a partisan tinge was dead on arrival, and knowing that the state is broke and can't afford new spending.

"We have more realistic expectations," Dunshee says. "I've come to the conclusion that all ideas are dead unless I can find something THEY want."

Good, bad and shook up

Ask a House member about life under the second tie, and most give the same two-part answer:

"We know how to do it, so there aren't any real surprises coming around the corner. We're pretty good at it," Kessler says. "The frustration level is higher, though, because three years is too long to be in a tie."

Val Ogden, D-Vancouver, co-speaker pro tempore, says it is at once smoother than last time -- and more irritating.

"It's better than being in the minority, but it's frustrating. Things seem to be going slower, maybe because of the budget situation we're in. It's always 'Hurry up and wait.' "

Her GOP counterpart, John Pennington of Carrolls, says that on one level, "It has improved 110 percent. It's like two 2-year-olds in a playpen -- once you learn how to share your toys, it becomes easier and better."

A silver lining is that lawmakers are learning valuable lessons in human relationships, Pennington says. For once, legislators are forced to try to see the world from the opposition's point of view and to try to find common ground, he says.

Still, he says, "The possibility of collapsing is out there, every day."

House members say their woes are compounded by some new factors:

- The Feb. 28 earthquake rousted them from the Capitol. They now are jammed into a cramped hearing room. Members are trapped, five abreast, at narrow folding tables, without phones, laptops or room to move, for hours at a time. Tight quarters make for short tempers sometimes, and members say the quality of debate is down.

- Lawmakers face a billion-dollar budget shortage and face the prospect of imposing cutbacks and dipping into the reserves. A transportation mess, the energy crunch, the need to reinvent the state's primary election system, and other thorny issues defy easy solution.

- Speaker Ballard and Democratic Gov. Gary Locke are at odds, adding another layer of intrigue.

- Frustrations sometimes spill over into the closed-door party caucuses. "We tend to fight in our caucuses now," Dunshee says. "We can't get into the floor fights we used to, so we pick fights among ourselves in caucus over the most inane things."

On the other hand, lawmakers say it helps to have mostly holdover leaders and committee co-chairmen who know the ropes and have worked out a detente. Two new Republican chairmen, Barry Sehlin at Appropriations and Tom Campbell at Health Care, are getting high marks for working with the Democrats.

Biding their time

A special election in Snohomish County this fall could throw the House -- and thus the entire Legislature -- to the Democrats. Republican Joe Marine of Mukilteo, appointed to a vacancy in January, must stand for election in a district that went mostly for Democrats in November.

Ballard thinks Marine can hold the seat and preserve the GOP's toehold of power. Democratic Co-Speaker Frank Chopp says Democrats should be able to win in an area that is trending Democratic.

"It's going to be the biggest, most expensive legislative race in Washington state history," Dunshee says. "It's for the whole enchilada. You can say to a contributor 'You're not buying a legislative seat, you're buying a legislature.' "

We're sure he didn't really mean "buying," but you get his drift. Everyone hates the 49-49 tie.

David Ammons is the AP's state political writer and has covered the statehouse since 1971. He may be reached at P.O. Box 607, Olympia, WA 98507, or at dammons@ap.org on the Internet.

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