It's interregnum time in Annapolis, a Twilight Zone period where strange things can happen. William Donald Schaefer is leaving grudgingly. Parris Glendening can't wait to get sworn in.
Mr. Schaefer remains in charge until noon January 18. He intends to use every minute to further carve his initials into the cross-beams of state government. Or as one high-ranking official put it, "He's gonna spend every dime he can find."
He's also going to fill every conceivable vacancy in state government before he leaves. And he's trying to jam through the Board of Public Works every conceivable multi-year lease and contract imaginable. "Do it now" to the end.
After disappearing from the public eye for six months, Mr. Schaefer is re-emerging with a vengeance. Along the way, he's leaving as many banana peels as possible for his successor to slip on.
You'd almost think Ellen Sauerbrey had won the election. (Barring a stupendous judicial intervention, though, that won't happen.) Mr. Schaefer's underlings are dealing cooperatively with the Glendening transition team, but Mr. Schaefer himself seems intent on proving "I'm still in charge."
Suddenly, the governor announces a plan to repeal the state's sales tax on certain snack foods. He says he's going to submit a repeal bill to the legislature.
Trouble is, he never consulted with Mr. Glendening, who is cool to the idea. Nor did he consult legislative leaders, who also are cautious about jumping on a bandwagon that is about to be TC dismantled.
Besides, there's a ludicrous aspect: It was Mr. Schaefer who bullied the legislature into approving the snack tax three years ago. How can he now turn around with a straight face and say the tax is detrimental and isn't needed? Besides, if the snack tax is harmful, why didn't Mr. Schaefer seek repeal last January?
The answer is that Mr. Schaefer never met a tax he didn't like. He is a builder. He believes in building government programs to address the needs of the state's have-nots. That takes money, tax money.
But since he is now leaving office and doesn't have to worry about the cutbacks in state spending needed to pay for a snack-tax repeal, Mr. Schaefer is reborn. He's seen the light: No more snack tax!
That same sort of juxtaposition is found in Mr. Schaefer's petulant response to the ACLU lawsuit seeking more state aid for Baltimore public schools. In essence, the governor exclaimed, "Why, the nerve of those ingrates! After all I've done for them in the past eight years. It's a disgrace."
Funny thing, it was the same William Donald Schaefer, as mayor, who once sued the state on similar grounds seeking more education aid for the city.
But his angry comments will indeed roil the political waters in Annapolis, making it more difficult for Mr. Glendening to calm things down and deliver education help to the city.
The governor also wants to rush through a land purchase by the state for a cruise-ship terminal at the Port of Baltimore, again trying to tie Mr. Glendening's hands. But Mr. Glendening is already a supporter of a cruise-ship terminal as an economic-development boost. What he's likely to do is scale down the grandiose plans of Schaeferites and seek a cruise-line partner willing to foot the bill.
The biggest area of dispute is over the 1995 budget (technically the fiscal 1996 budget). Mr. Schaefer is intent on submitting his own fiscal plan as though he were still going to be running the state. It will be a "blue-skies" budget. His proposals would boost spending a whopping 8 percent.
Through various channels, Mr. Glendening has requested Mr. Schaefer to resist the temptation. To no avail. But it's really not a major concern -- just another embarrassing moment in the transition.
The attorney general says Mr. Glendening can safely ignore the Schaefer budget and submit his own blueprint. In fact, the Schaefer gambit plays perfectly into Mr. Glendening's hand: The public is in no mood to tolerate politicians with big-spending notions. Next to the Schaefer budget-buster, the Glendening hold-down budget will look downright Sauerbreyean.
Mr. Schaefer is proving the perfect foil for Mr. Glendening. Instead of "do it now" government, the Glendening creed seems to be "study it now." Instead of "spend, spend, spend," the edict is "cut, cut and save." Instead of "bigger is better," the Glendening motto is "smaller is smarter."
What better way to show he isn't a "tax-and-spend liberal" than to display an early conservative fiscal streak? What better way to endear himself to the public than to compare his frugal budget to the outgoing governor's spending frenzy? The implication will be clear: "I'm not William Donald Schaefer."
It's a pity this transition is turning sour. It need not have happened. Especially since the transfer of power is from one Democrat to another. The sad part is that the result is preordained: The outgoing governor will be forgotten by mid-afternoon on January 18; the incoming governor will reign supreme for the next 1,460 days.
Barry Rascovar is editorial-page director of The Sun.