THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1997, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, February 5, 1997 TAG: 9702050484
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY ROBERT LITTLE, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: RICHMOND LENGTH: 108 lines
The Senate was barely halfway through its agenda, and the sky was darkening as fast as the bags under everyone's eyes.
Sen. Steve Newman grabbed his microphone and stood up so laboriously you would have thought his pockets were full of cannonballs.
``It's late in the day,'' said the first-term senator from Lynchburg, beginning debate on a controversial question about teachers' rights.
``And sometimes,'' he continued, ``bills are more trouble than they're worth.''
Then Newman withdrew his bill to the muted cheers of his Senate colleagues. Several slapped him on the back for tossing another time-consuming bill onto that figurative scrap heap where hundreds of good intentions were laid to waste Tuesday by Virginia's lawmakers.
The Senate and House of Delegates waded through hundreds of bills and resolutions en route to their midpoint deadline for passing legislation Tuesday. The legislators enacted some laws, they made some mistakes.
But the General Assembly was also making history, if a host of weary legislators have their way.
Several key legislators are suggesting that this year's short session might be the last. Forty-five days, they say, is simply not enough time to do the people's business.
The Virginia Constitution gives legislators as many as 60 days to complete work in odd-numbered years.
From now on, some legislators want to take advantage of every one.
``The only way you can do this and do a good job is to give yourself 60 days. And even then, it's tough enough,'' said House Speaker Thomas W. Moss Jr., minutes after the House gave him a standing ovation for completing a 10-hour session Monday night. ``If I'm still here, I'm going to try to get that done.''
Lawmakers grumbled this week about long weekend sessions and 2 a.m. subcommittee meetings. The committees dealing with criminal laws voted on 50 or more bills a day.
One Courts of Justice subcommittee in the House met until 3:45 a.m. Sunday. Members had to return a few hours later for a full meeting that lasted on-and-off until after midnight. By the end, members were slaying bills so fast they could barely find them.
The late nights sometimes strained the demeanor, like when slow-talking Del. Joseph P. Johnson suggested putting a death-row inmate on the Virginia Parole Board. ``But,'' replied Leesburg Del. William C. Mims, ``you'd have to keep on replacing him.''
Anything that wasn't acted on by last night can't be offered again until 1998. The General Assembly considered 2,500 bills this year, and has had less than a month to sift out the bad ones.
``I'm only 34 years old, and I'm exhausted,'' said Fairfax Del. David Albo. ``The last few days I've been getting about four hours of sleep.''
``They say no man's property is safe while we're in session?'' asked Virginia Beach Sen. Edward Schrock. ``Well, right now I wish they'd trust us just a few days longer.''
The General Assembly meets for 60 days in even-numbered years, when members consider the state's two-year budget. The subsequent short session was originally called simply to clean up work from the year before.
But even at 60 days, Virginia's legislative sessions are among the shortest in the country. Most legislatures meet three to six months, debating half as many bills for far fewer residents.
Even people who support Virginia's 45-day session acknowledge the pounding it can inflict on legislators, their staffs and the quality of legislation they approve.
``I wouldn't mind a few more days,'' said Del. S. Vance Wilkins Jr., an Amherst Republican and minority leader of the House of Delegates. ``But I would resist any movement away from the system of being a part-time, citizen legislature.''
Said Virginia Beach Del. Frank Wagner, in concurrence: ``I can barely take off 45 days and still make a living.''
Wagner is a good example of how a man's modest lawmaking intentions can go helplessly awry.
He came to Richmond this year planning to offer only five bills - and to complain about his colleagues who carry individual logjams of legislation. But then the governor gave him some bills, the City Council gave him a few more. Now he has 12. And he's complaining about himself.
People have tried over the years to limit the number of bills lawmakers can offer, always to no avail. ``I think some are based on what people see on `Hard Copy,' '' said Roanoke Del. Clifton A. ``Chip'' Woodrum. ``That's ridiculous.''
Other time-saving proposals are in the works: Requiring all bills to be submitted before the legislators come to Richmond. Holding longer, more substantive committee meetings during the summer and fall.
But there is one lawmaking reality that everyone agrees will ensnare them forever: They take up the controversial matters last.
The Senate Tuesday debated bills about casino gambling, welfare reform and the power of lawyers. The House considered abortion and the rights of prisoners.
As the day dragged on, senators killed a bill concerning the administration of worker compensation at shipyards. Minutes later, the floor clattering in a dozen debates, supporters quickly called the vote again and it passed.
Fairfax Sen. Joseph Gartlan, one of the measure's primary opponents, inadvertently voted yes in the confusion. Votes can only be taken twice. Supporters laughed so hard they nearly choked.
``It's an embarrassment to me, and I'm sorry it happened,'' Gartlan said, pleading for members to suspend the rules and allow another vote. They refused. Only half were in their seats anyway. MEMO: Staff Writer David M. Poole contributed to this story. ILLUSTRATION: [Color Photo]
ASSOCIATED PRESS
Sen. Benny Lambert, D-Richmond, stretches and yawns during a debate
in the Senate Tuesday in Richmond.
KEYWORDS: GENERAL ASSEMBLY