DATE: Thursday, October 2, 1997             TAG: 9710020001

SECTION: LOCAL                   PAGE: B11  EDITION: FINAL 

TYPE: Opinion 

SOURCE: Patrick Lackey 

                                            LENGTH:   87 lines

WHAT IF COUSIN DUMBER CONTRIBUTED THOUSANDS? DUMBER'S IDEA OF HEAVEN ON EARTH IS A KEG OF DOMESTIC BEER, A SMALL BOAT, A POND STOCKED WITH BASS AND A FISHING BUDDY WITH A POT BELLY THE SAME SIZE AS HIS.

The most amusing claim politicians make is that their actions in office are unaffected by political donations.

Politicians say, in effect, that they are ingrates. They accept tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars and give back nothing other than the same good service to which every citizen is entitled. That's what they say. They claim not to be especially kind to the people who were especially kind to them - despite what their mothers might have taught them about returning favors.

Because Virginia politicians are such ingrates, the state is able to get by with some of the most lax campaign-finance rules in the nation. What's allowed in Virginia state political campaigns might best be summed up by these four words: Whatever pops your cork.

Anybody or any company can contribute any amount to any candidate at any time anywhere. I trust the state is not being overly restrictive.

You can legally pay big bucks to legislators at the Statehouse while the General Assembly is considering a bill that could save you millions of dollars in taxes or fines - though only if your contribution is a campaign contribution and not a bribe.

Bribes are illegal, of course, though money counts as a bribe only if it comes in a package clearly marked ``BRIBE,'' with a list of demands inside. Otherwise, the money is a campaign donation.

But wait! I misspoke a moment ago. One group is prohibited from donating to candidates for Virginia state office. Can you guess which group?

The Chinese?

Nope, wrong guess. We're talking state elections, not federal ones.

Buddhist nuns?

Wrong again. The correct answer is pari-mutuel betting licensees.

And here's a point that confuses me. The same legislators who say they are unaffected by campaign donations have passed a law prohibiting pari-mutuel betting licensees from donating to their campaigns. But if campaign donations do not affect legislators' actions, as legislators claim, why bar anyone from making them? Let the devil donate, since Virginia legislators and governors and such are above corruption.

It is true that the betting industry has owned legislators, if not entire assemblies, in many states; but so have the banking, utility, tobacco, farming and insurance industries. It just strikes me as odd that a pig packer facing millions in state pollution fines can legally give large amounts to a political campaign, as long as the pig packer doesn't hold a pari-mutuel betting license.

Through August of this year, nice people and corporations had contributed $5.17 million to Donald S. Beyer Jr.'s gubernatorial campaign chest and $5.12 million to James S. Gilmore III's gubernatorial campaign fund.

If you were to ask many of the corporate donors why they gave, they might say, ``All we seek is access.'' Of course if all they got was access, if they were listened to and turned down year after year, their enthusiasm for giving would wane. It hasn't waned.

In Washington, the tobacco industry's millions in political donations bought it a $50 billion tax credit, though only fleetingly. For once, public outrage was heard, and the tax credit was dropped. And why does the tobacco industry pay millions in campaign donations? Right. Just for access.

Mark Twain once said that it is impossible to believe a person is telling the truth when you know that, in his shoes, you'd be lying. I feel somewhat that way about political candidates. It's impossible for me to believe they are not bought for $50,000 when I know that, in their shoes, I'd at least be rented.

The other day I got to wondering what Virginia would be like if my cousin, Dumber, made large political donations year after year. We're only speculating here, you understand, since the most money Dumber ever made over 12 months was $13,000. He's kind of a handyman, but though he can fix any nonelectrical item that has fewer than four moving parts, he's usually fishing.

Dumber's idea of heaven on Earth is a keg of domestic beer, a small boat, a pond stocked with bass and a fishing buddy with a pot belly the same size as his.

To hear legislators tell it, they would be unaffected whether a $50,000 donation came from Dumber or anybody else.

But it's my guess that if Dumber gave enough politicians $50,000 apiece, year after year, Virginia eventually would have the nicest boat ramps and the most terrific bass-stocking program in the nation. The sales tax on domestic beer might be dropped.

I can't help thinking that money matters and that Virginia politicians are less ungrateful than they let on. If I'm right, the next governor will have to repay more than $5 million worth of favors. MEMO: Mr. Lackey is an editorial writer for The Virginian-Pilot.

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