That Parris Glendening is one lucky fellow. Those skeletons in his political closet never turned up till after he got sworn in as Maryland's governor.
For 12 years, Mr. Glendening presided over populous Prince George's County in the Washington suburbs. And for 12 years, the leading newspaper in that area ignored the internal machinations of the Glendening administration. It would be the equivalent of The Sun failing to report on what was really happening in Baltimore County between 1982 and 1994.
What was happening in P.G.?
That's still a question wrapped in ambiguity. We do know that the Glendening administration bought labor tranquility and labor loyalty at an exceedingly high price to taxpayers. We also know that Glendening officials set up a cozy special-benefits package for "involuntarily separated" managers that made the governor and some top aides eligible for enhanced payments. And we know that a political culture thrived in P.G. that isn't viewed with approval these days in Annapolis.
Not only did Mr. Glendening manage to emerge relatively unscathed from local newspaper coverage during those 12 years, but his campaign foes in the race for governor last year never dug up any dirt on him, either.
During the 1994 Democratic primary campaign Mickey Steinberg, Mary Boergers and American Joe Miedusiewski all talked privately about the scandals and embarrassments in Prince George's that they would bring to light. And yet not one episode was ever aired in public by one of the Democrats.
During the general election campaign Republican Ellen Sauerbrey never dredged up any of this P.G. data, either. Had she spent a fraction of the money she wasted ex post facto in challenging Mr. Glendening's election on what had really been occurring in P.G., Mrs. Sauerbrey would be sitting by the fireplace at the Governor's Mansion today.
But she, too, failed to gather the evidence (just as she failed to gather the evidence of election fraud). Once again, the Glendening luck prevailed.
Had any of this information been publicized during the campaign -- especially the sweetened pension plan and the no-layoff sweetener contract with labor unions -- Parris Glendening would be lecturing students at College Park for a living.
It's too late now. Mr. Glendening is governor for the next four years. But suddenly the honeymoon is over. Public cynicism is returning. Mr. Glendening, it turns out, is more than just a "policy wonk" and expert on public administration. He's a slick pol, too.
How slick? Slick enough to accept a whopping $95,000 from a single contributor and then blithely claim there couldn't possibly be any quid pro quo down the road. Slick enough to appoint political hacks to state jobs to help smooth the confirmation of two cabinet secretaries grilled by senators last week on the P.G. pension scam. Slick enough to try to reward his political supporters in his Green Bag appointments, even if it meant naming to the port commission a contractor knee-deep in federal housing allegations of waste and fraud.
Which is the real Parris Glendening? That's a valid question to raise at this early stage of his governorship. Clearly, he's having trouble making the jump from the minor leagues of county government to the big leagues of state government. He's not used to the constant, intense media coverage. He's not used to a rambunctious and often headstrong legislature. He's not used to dealing with presiding legislative officers who jealously guard their prerogatives.
A tight-knit group of lawyers and aides sufficed to run P.G. But not the state. A business-style management structure, with a chief of staff acting as a CEO, can work in P.G., but not in a state capital where no one of rank is going to tolerate such a delegation of electoral authority. Quiet deals with various interest groups kept the lid on P.G. situations, but not in the hot house of Annapolis.
In his first month in office, Mr. Glendening has demonstrated a welcome grasp of the internal workings of government. He has identified some of this state's long untended weaknesses and started to address these deficiencies. But when it comes to matters of politics and public perception, he has repeatedly stumbled.
If the new governor learns from these mistakes, he can put much of the unease behind him. But if he stonewalls and circles the wagons, if he continues to waste political capital on unwise appointments and if he fails to admit his errant ways in Prince
TC George's, these controversies could leave lasting scars.
Barry Rascovar is editorial-page director of The Sun. His column appears here each Sunday.