Ah, to be a senator today in Oklahoma, especially of the Republican brand.
They total 39 — all powerful members of a cozy, conservative club chosen by the proletariat to make policy decisions both large and small; to also write a multi-billion dollar annual budget; and, among other things, to carefully consider the qualifications of hundreds of their constituents nominated by Gov. Kevin Stitt for service on important boards, commissions and agencies.
Mind numbing responsibilities indeed, for mere mortals, and all must be accomplished in a compressed four-month period, while also answering mail, phone calls, texts and being available for endless rubber chicken dinners, receptions, events, votes and even cattle calls back in their districts that sometimes include real cattle to be milked, eaten or purchased...probably with lobbyists' money.
Busy, busy, busy. But above all, when you are an esteemed and preening senator, the rules, traditions, decorum, courtesies and precedents of that august body must be observed, honored and cherished at all times — except, apparently, when it would be inconvenient to do so. Especially for the man selected by his colleagues to enforce them.
That's right. Rule maker, rule keeper, score keeper, decorum decorator and precedent pooh bah Pro Tempore Greg Treat has opted for expediency, over generations of senatorial courtesy that historically glorifies the upper body above the rabble rousing, hot and empty heads posited in the Oklahoma House of Representatives. As embarrassing as the Oklahoma Senate may occasionally be — think Ralph 'wanna get to know me better' Shortey or Paul 'The Prankster' Scott — it usually can count on the philanders, fools, cutups and clowns in the lower body to keep it off page-one or not serve as the lead on the 6 p.m. news.