A brief history of Kentucky politics for the uninformed

The talk of a possible government shutdown and a default on the nation's debt has placed renewed scrutiny on Kentucky's Mitch McConnell. As the U.S. Senate's Republican leader, McConnell has become something of a lightning rod for blame for any problems the Bluegrass State has.

My personal feelings about McConnell are well-documented. I'm not a fan in the slightest. He's the epitome of an establishment politician. He's a RINO and a swamp-dweller. He stakes out conservative positions only when he finds it convenient. At other times he's part of the go-along-to-get-along crowd. He's actively worked against the populist grassroots tea party and MAGA movements within the GOP.

But when national figures who know nothing about Kentucky and its political structure or history start listing all our ills and try to pin the blame on McConnell and claim Kentucky is a Republican "red state," they're just wrong. Totally, completely, and historically inaccurate.

It's true that Kentucky has a penchant for ranking high in bad categories, and low in good categories, but if you peruse that list of categories, you'll find that most of those items are the responsibility of the state government, not the federal government. And Kentucky has historically been dominated by the Democrats. Here's the proof.

A look at the list of our governors provides the first clue. Of the state's 63 governors, more than half (36) have been Democrats. Happy Chandler served two non-consecutive terms back in the days when governors were term-limited, and Paul Patton and Steve Beshear were both re-elected and served two consecutive terms.

Eighteen of our governors came from parties that no longer exist, including Democratic-Republican, Whig, National Republican, and Know-Nothing.

Only nine -- one-seventh -- of the state's governors have been members of the Republican Party. And when Simeon Willis departed office in December 1947, a long drought began for Kentucky Republicans.

For two decades (five terms), Democrats held the position. Louie B. Nunn broke the string in 1967, but he governed largely as a Democrat during his four years. It's widely thought by Kentucky political observers that his support of increasing the state's sales tax from 3 cents to 5 cents was costly to the GOP. Think of it as a preview of George H. W. Bush's "read my lips, no new taxes" misstep. The tax increase was derisively called "Nunn's nickel" and for years thereafter, the GOP wandered in the gubernatorial political desert.

It was 32 long years and seven Democrats, owing to Patton being the first governor to succeed himself in office, before Republicans won the seat back. U.S. Rep. Ernie Fletcher gave up a seat in Congress, and defeated the grandson of popular former governor Chandler, but only served one term. The Democrats who still controlled most of the rest of state government launched politically-motivated attacks on him, and he lost his re-election bid.

Steve Beshear served two terms, and Republican Matt Bevin was elected in 2015, but he lost re-election due to a variety of factors on a ballot where every other statewide race was won by a Republican. The current governor is a Democrat, Andy Beshear, Steve's son.

So, since 1947, a Republican has had control of the executive branch of state government for only 12 years (and real Republicans for only eight years). The policy failures of the last 74 years certainly can't be laid at the feet of the GOP.

The legislative branch is similar. Democrats controlled both chambers of Kentucky's General Assembly for eons. After a coup that ousted Senate President John "Eck" Rose from power, when a handful of disaffected Democrats joined Republicans in electing Larry Saunders, and with the Senate close to parity between the parties, some Democrats switched parties, giving the GOP control in 2000. Subsequent elections have significantly firmed up the Republican majority.

As for the House, Democrats retained their grip on it until the 2016 elections, during which the GOP shocked the state by not only flipping the House, but winning a decisive majority. A number of Democrats previously thought unbeatable, including Majority Leader Greg Stumbo, lost their re-election bids. Two and four years later, Republicans scored even more impressive wins (including in my own district, where the GOP nominee carried the home county of his Democrat opponent in a locale where Democrats still dominate the political structure). And this happened in districts that Democrats had drawn up to protect their own majority.

It's been a slow process for the federal delegation as well. McConnell has been in office since 1984, and Republicans have held both Senate positions since Jim Bunning won Wendell Ford's old seat, but Democrats have dominated Kentucky's representation in that chamber. As for the House, it's been a methodical march for Kentucky Republicans to secure a majority of those seats. As of now, only one Democrat represents Kentucky in Congress. When the state lost a House seat due to redistricting because of the 1990 census, Democrats still ruled the state and tried every way possible to gerrymander the new districts in their favor. They put U.S. Rep. Hal Rogers in an unfriendly district, but he's won new term after new term.  Like dominoes, seats held by Democrats (Carroll Hubbard, William Natcher, Ken Lucas, and Scotty Baesler, among others) switched hands.

In local positions, Republicans finally took a majority of county judge-executive positions three years ago, but the majority of other elected local officials are Democrats. It's not uncommon for a county fiscal court to be made up of a Republican CJE and the majority of magistrates or commissioners consisting of Democrats.

Presidential elections are usually the national indicator of whether a state is a "red state" or a "blue state," at least according to media political pundits. Kentucky's gone for the Republican over the Democrat in recent years, although Bill Clinton carried the state both times he ran, Jimmy Carter outpolled Gerald Ford in 1976, and Lyndon Johnson beat Barry Goldwater in 1964. Adlai Stevenson even topped Dwight Eisenhower in 1952. The Democrat nominee has won the state's electoral votes 23 times since 1864, while the GOP has only been victorious 16 times. (The 1872 election is an outlier; Horace Greeley defeated U.S. Grant in Kentucky running under the banner of the "Liberal Republican" Party.)

Finally, take a look at voter registration numbers. In my youth, Democrats dominated that statistic by a total of nearly 63-35. But the reversal of those numbers has been staggering. Numbers recently released show that the Republicans are within striking distance -- 1.8 percentage points, to be exact -- of gaining a plurality of registered voters. Democrats are leaving their party and switching to the GOP or "other" in droves, and new voters are overwhelmingly registering Republican.

Kentucky's problems are not recent. They've been festering for a long time. The new Republican majority in the legislature is tasked with reversing those fortunes, and it won't happen overnight. I've long said that it will take at least 30 years of uninterrupted GOP control of the executive branch to purge state government of the liberal institutional mindset. Naturally, a Democrat governor will appoint like-minded people to political positions, but the Democrats have abused the state's merit system in the past to pack career civil service jobs with liberal cronies. One investigation showed that in a county where the Republicans enjoyed a huge majority (75-25) in voter registration, Democrats held 75 percent of the state jobs locally. Three decades will give most of the career Democrats time to retire and get them out of state government.

Again, this is not a defense of Mitch McConnell. But when national figures start pointing out Kentucky's educational attainment levels, cancer rates, average household income, number of counties on the "poorest in America" list, and all those other negatives we've heard for years, and then blame McConnell and ask why Kentuckians keep electing him and other Republicans, here's your answer. We don't, at least not historically. The Democrats have run this state for decades, and they still do, although their dominance is fading fast. Republicans aren't to blame for this state's historical shortcomings. They're just now getting their opportunity to fix them. Democrats own every problem this state has. And here's a reminder for those from elsewhere who are ignorant of our state's political history and reality.

Are the "woke" finally waking up? Profane anti-Biden chants may be an indicator

The term "woke"has gained traction in the last couple of years. It's generally used to refer to a liberal activist, normally a younger individual, who has had some sort of revelation about the ills and faults of American society and now rails against the perceived institutional racism and sexism that supposedly rules the nation. They seek to silence or cancel those who disagree with them. Conservatives are cast as evil Neanderthals who refuse to change with the times, as the "woke" mob members actively try to displace reminders of our past, warts and all. (Quick, when was the last time you heard of anyone trying to remove a tribute to Martin Luther King, Jr., the way statues of Robert E. Lee are coming down?)

But all of a sudden, the tide has turned. There's a phenomenon that's sweeping the country that indicates that many, including the young people the liberal Democrats are counting on to preserve and enhance their policy legacy, aren't buying it anymore.

From college football games to other sporting events to concerts to spontaneous outbursts in public places, people are chanting "F--k Joe Biden." For all of the unpopularity at various times of Donald Trump, George W. Bush, and Barack Obama, nothing like this ever happened. "F Joe Biden" has been trending on Twitter for a couple of days, and the chant has even been documented at University of Kentucky football games.

Yes, the vulgarity is off-putting, and it's indicative of a societal decay that plagues both sides of the political coin these days, but it's surprisingly coming from places dominated by youth. While it would be more uplifting to hear the dissatisfaction with the president and his actions expressed in a less crude manner, the message is loud and clear. This is a pretty obvious manifestation of disapproval.

Are these young people, who represent the future of our nation and our culture, finally waking up to see just how poorly liberal ideas perform in the real world? Have they seen enough in the nine disastrous months of Biden's term to know he's screwing the country up? Do they not want to live under the "woke" culture Biden and his ilk promote?

This certainly doesn't bode well for the future of the leftist movement in the United States. If the young people who are most receptive to liberalism are getting a glimpse of the Democrats' future plan for the country and rebelling against it, it puts the 2022 midterm and 2024 presidential elections in a new light.

A lot can happen politically in a year. Just ask George H. W. Bush, whose re-election seemed to be a shoo-in in 1991 but whose fortunes reversed the following year against Bill Clinton. Some Democrats were predicting a decade or more of dominance after the 2020 election. They'd strengthen their hold on Congress next year, keep the presidency two years later, and banish the GOP to permanent minority status. That may now be in danger if the hordes of youth shouting their anger at Biden stay the course.

The profane three-word chant is crude and not really fit for polite society, but it gets the message across. Four-syllable chants have long been a staple of live events -- "Let's Go Wildcats, clap clap clapclapclap" -- and there may not be another way to phrase an anti-Biden cheer in such a succinct yet crystal-clear method. "Impeach Joe Biden" just doesn't quite have the same ring to it. But there's no mistaking the sentiment being expressed. People just aren't pleased with the 46th president of the United States and his decisions.

College campuses have long been regarded as one of the major bastions of American liberalism.  If "woke" college kids are loudly and vocally rejecting "woke" liberal ideology, there may be hope for this country after all to return to the nation's traditional values and founding ideals.

Your sentiments are appreciated, but come on, kids. Clean up your language. Cursing is never necessary to make your point. Find another way to express your disapproval. The best way would be in an election anytime Biden or someone of like mind is on the ballot.

Bad takes from Trump's Georgia rally

Donald Trump returned to the rally stage Saturday night, holding a raucous event in Georgia. Ostensibly billed as a kickoff for Herschel Walker's run for the U.S. Senate, much of Trump's boilerplate campaign speech was highlighted. It once again fueled the "will he or won't he" speculation regarding a potential 2024 presidential run.

But as sure as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, you can always count on Trump's political nemeses to misconstrue his remarks.

In the hours after the rally, Democrats appeared to be giddy over the fact that Trump had seemingly endorsed Stacey Abrams for governor of Georgia. But it doesn't take a genius to realize that wasn't the case at all.

What Trump was actually doing, as anyone who has a grasp on politics knows, is that he was praising Abrams for being honest about who and what she really is. There's no mistaking the fact that she is an ultra-liberal Democrat. Trump's remarks about Abrams were really a dig at Georgia Gov. Brian Kemp. That was Trump's way of calling Kemp a RINO. Abrams has never given anyone a reason to question her ideology. For Kemp, it's a different story.

Trump spent much of the evening criticizing Kemp and Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger, along with other Republicans in Georgia and across the nation. For all of Trump's policy successes, his biggest achievement may have been a political one. He's done a marvelous job of exposing the RINOs who seem more inclined to side with Democrats than stay true to their own professed principles.

As can be expected, this doesn't go over well with the establishment; the "go along to get along" and "we've always done it this way" crowd. True to form, it didn't take long after Saturday's rally for various left-leaning online outlets to start quoting Republicans saying how upset they were with Trump for calling out Kemp and Raffensperger. Most were anonymous, but a few people who were identified as former Republican officials weighed in. And the Trump haters were more than glad to give these triggered RINOs a platform.

Trump's base within the Republican Party is made up of people who are tired of business as usual. They like the fact that he has turned conventional politics on its head. They've seen where the old practices have gotten them. They want someone to stand up to the establishment and the political machine. They want the swamp drained and they realize that government is dominated by a "uniparty."

This is something that Trump's detractors, both liberal Democrats and establishment Republicans, fail to realize. They're quick to claim "fascism" and "trampling on the Constitution"and make other baseless accusations, but when challenged to provide proof, they can't. Conservatives may want the system torn down, but they want it demolished and rebuilt in accordance with our founding guidelines.

So-called Republicans who find themselves drawing ire from the grassroots may want to ask themselves why that is. Why are these people who may have supported them in the past now angry with them? These voters' views didn't change.

Any number of GOP politicians could have tapped into the populace's dissatisfaction. Trump was able to do it successfully. No one who wants to return to the days of yore, when style mattered more than substance, is going to succeed in this environment.

In the meantime, it's fun to watch Trump's opponents and detractors misconstrue his words and totally get his appeal to his base wrong. There are still people who think Trump's "Russia, are you listening?"joke was a serious request.  So, anytime you see some liberal Web site or wishy-washy Republican politician complaining about something the former presidents says or does, rest assured he's over the target.

For potential candidates in next year's elections, time's a-wastin'

Some very important elections are on the calendar for next year in Kentucky. We will elect all of our local officials, the entire state House of Representatives, half of the Senate, and either 40 or 60 percent of school board members, depending on the district. We'll also choose the whole U.S. House of Representatives and one-third of the Senate.

Yet with only nine months to go before the primary next May, and with no races on the ballot here in the Bluegrass this year except for special elections to fill vacancies, there's an eerie lack of talk about the 2022 races.

Quite frankly, this is amazing. In so many counties and cities, incumbents have practically been begging for opposition due to their words and deeds (and in many cases, lack of deeds) during their current terms. But despite so much criticism that's been levied against certain officeholders, no one has stepped forward to run against them. In the communities I'm most familiar with, I'm not aware of any potential candidate who has declared his or her candidacy and is actively campaigning. One online acquaintance of mine has announced his run for county clerk in his home county, but that's a couple of hours away from here. The silence is deafening concerning next year's races.

This just doesn't make sense. Local ballots are typically crowded, with a number of candidates seeking office. One would logically think that with controversial incumbents in the mix, the earlier a challenger announces, the better.

Now is an ideal time for someone looking to unseat an officeholder to get name recognition, make their positions known, raise money, establish social media presences, run introductory ads, sponsor local events, enter floats in parades, and hand out trinkets like pens, keychains, and the like at festivals and ballgames and other happenings attended by the public. Early filers can consolidate support, potentially freeze out other challengers, and start the journey on the uphill climb that beating an incumbent usually is.

Those already in office have a distinct advantage in publicity over challengers. By virtue of their position, they get media coverage not available to private citizens. They have all sorts of public resources at their disposal to promote themselves. They get invited to ribbon-cuttings and groundbreakings and other public events, where they can smile for the cameras or make a few remarks. There's a name for it in the world of politics and public relations. It's called "earned media."

Incumbents have track records -- good or bad -- on which to run. Challengers have only their promises and ideas, and they have to be relentless in making their positions known to the public to overcome the built-in advantages of incumbency.

I've long said that I have no desire to run for public office. I'd much rather be Karl Rove than George W. Bush -- or to make it bipartisan, I'd rather be Rahm Emanuel than Barack Obama.

But if I was going to run, especially against an incumbent that has made questionable or controversial decisions or statements, I'd already be on the campaign trail. I would have already declared my candidacy to garner early publicity and would have started attacking the incumbent's positions.

Next year's races will provide ample fodder for challengers. The events of the last two years have angered a lot of constituents and voters. The public will have a chance to weigh in on whether or not they agree with the decisions that have been made. Taxpayers who have been dissatisfied with the way officials have responded to their complaints and opinions finally have the opportunity to make that displeasure known in a tangible way. There's an undercurrent of dissent that's ripe for a challenger to tap into, but someone has to take that opportunity while it's there.

This is already happening in some of the state legislative races, where Republicans fed up with incumbents' go-along-to-get-along RINOism are actively mounting challenges. Actions by the majority in the recent special legislative session are expected to result in even more primary races against current legislators. These candidates know the value of starting early and building momentum.

We already have candidates positioning themselves for the 2023 Kentucky governor's race. One Republican has filed preliminary papers already to run, and others are publicly exploring the possibility. And that primary is nearly two years away. Yet for all the complaints publicly voiced against current officials in my area, the silence is deafening when it comes to people actually looking to run next year.

Time's a-wastin.' May 2022 will be here before we know it. Candidates who are serious about running need to step up now to make sure their voices are heard first and loudest, and don't get lost in a rush of last-minute filers.

Just for whom do elected officials work, anyway?

Congressman Harold "Hal" Rogers recently became Kentucky's longest-serving United States representative, breaking a record held by the late William Natcher, who died in 1994 while still holding office. Rogers, first elected in 1980, was recently feted in Frankfort where members of both parties praised his longevity. The ceremony held by state General Assembly leaders generated some news coverage in the Bluegrass State.

Rogers' appearance in the headlines, combined with several other recent attention-grabbing news stories, made me recall a workplace lunchtime conversation from nearly 40 years ago that is more relevant than ever today.

He may be a veteran now, but back in the mid-1980s, Rogers was very much what today is referred to as a "newbie." He hadn't been in Congress very long when I began working alongside Malcolm "Mac" Kilduff at my hometown newspaper.

For the uninitiated, Kilduff was the assistant presidential press secretary who made the announcement of President Kennedy's death in November 1963, and subsequently recorded the swearing-in of President Johnson aboard Air Force One. He had met a Lee County native named Rosemary Porter, and when she retired from government service, they married and moved back to her hometown of Beattyville. Mac took a job as a newspaper editor and was a friend and mentor as well as a co-worker for a few years in the 1980s.

At some point during Rogers' early years in Congress, he had surveyed his constituency on several prominent issues. At the time, Rogers represented the "old Fifth," a congressional district made up of mostly-Republican counties in south-central Kentucky, back when Kentucky had seven districts instead of its current six. Lee County was in Rogers' district then, as it is now.

One of the questions on the survey concerned some policy initiative favored by President Reagan. I can't recall after many years what, exactly, that policy was, but it really doesn't matter for purposes of this discussion.

The "old Fifth" was staunchly GOP and Reagan country, but on this particular policy, the majority of Rogers' constituents indicated they were against it. Rogers' response to that polling, was, basically, "Most of you stated you're opposed to this initiative, but I stand with President Reagan and I intend to support and vote for this anyway because I think it's the right thing to do."

This touched off a spirited discussion between Mac Kilduff and me. I was of the opinion that Rogers was doing his constituents a disservice by defying their wishes and supporting the proposal. Kilduff said that members of Congress are sent there to use their best judgment on how to vote on such matters.

Despite what you read every day, the United States of America is not a democracy. We don't have true majority rule as determined by the populace. Some states have various components of a true democracy, such as ballot initiatives and referenda, but they aren't commonplace. The country is instead established as a representative republic, where we elect officials to carry out our wishes when making law and policy. Most state governments are set up in this manner as well.

Still, we expect our representatives to listen to their constituents and respond the way the majority of them want. This is increasingly becoming less common, as government officials and agencies enact widely unpopular restrictions and requirements.

We do not elect officials, nor do we put people on the public payroll, to tell us what to do. Instead, we put them in place to do what we tell them to do, subject to legal or constitutional restrictions. Any politician who brags about making unpopular decisions needs to be removed from office at the first available opportunity.

We've come to a point in society where a government operating of, by, and for the people is an exception rather than the rule. When the people actually get the government to do what they want done instead of what the government wants to do, it's big news.

Once recent event took place in Pulaski County. Residents of the area were concerned over something they considered to be a safety hazard. They knew how they wanted the problem solved. Yet when they asked the government to take action, the agency responded that it already had a different plan under development. That didn't satisfy the locals. The proposed solution was not what they wanted. So they protested, loudly. They took to social media, contacted the mass media, and organized a public meeting to make their wishes known. The agency head finally relented, overruled the bureaucracy, and ordered the solution that the people were demanding.

This is how government should, in theory, operate. The citizenry makes its wishes know and the government follows through on it. Elected officials and appointed or career bureaucrats shouldn't substitute their wishes or their judgment for the wants of the majority.

Officials have to abide by the state and federal constitutions, as well as laws passed by various applicable legislative bodies. But policies don't have the force of law, and can be rewritten at any time. If a government official says "that's against our policy," then call them out and demand they change the policy.

The next few elections will become de facto referenda on recent government decisions. Local school boards are now tackling the issue of mask mandates. The mandates are highly unpopular, yet many school districts are signing on to them after that decision became their responsibility. Next year, during school board elections, taxpayers and voters will decide whether or not they agree with those decisions. That's the way it should be.

And in the following year, Gov. Andy Beshear will stand before voters of Kentucky, who will pass judgment on how he's handled things. His forced business closures, his restrictions on individual liberties, his bans on attending church, his handling of the state's unemployment insurance woes -- all will be on the ballot. The electorate will get to decide whether they approve of those decisions, or whether they disagree with them. 

Our nation's founding document, the Declaration of Independence, declares in it second paragraph that the only legitimate government is one that derives its powers from the consent of the governed. Well, the governed haven't given their consent for many things that have been forced upon them in recent years.

So remember, if your elected officials aren't carrying out your wishes, they aren't doing their jobs. Hold them accountable at the ballot box.

Special legislative session leaves nearly no one happy

There's an old political adage that goes, if neither side is happy with a decision, then that must mean that the right thing was done.

But does that really apply to the just-concluded special session of the Kentucky General Assembly, called to address various topics related to the Wuhan Chinese virus after a court ruling that the governor couldn't go at alone by issuing executive orders?

Liberals are very unhappy that the legislature voided an administrative regulation issued by the Kentucky Department of Education that required public school students and staff to wear masks, leaving that decision up to local school boards. Gov. Andy Beshear has weighed in, expressing his anger that he can't issue a statewide mask mandate like he wanted to have permission to do. Meanwhile, conservatives are upset that the legislation passed by the House and Senate over the governor's objections and overridden vetoes didn't go far enough to protect individual rights and freedoms from government overreach.

About the only people who left satisfied when the legislature concluded its special session late Thursday night were the leaders, especially in the Senate, who finally had a chance to weigh in and make policy after being shut out since last March, and having their efforts to have a say challenged in court by a power-hungry governor unwilling to listen to those with different ideologies and elected from smaller districts across the state and thus better in tune with the wishes of the populace.

One of the purposes of the special session was to provide more flexibility to public school systems to offer home-based instruction when absences pile up due to virus cases and overly restrictive exposure quarantine protocols to the point where districts cancel classes rather than have the absenteeism rates affect their average daily attendance funding.

That ability was given, but the left-leaning education lobby -- the new commissioner hired by Beshear's hand-picked board, the Kentucky Education Association, "120 Wrong," and the predictable others -- are not happy with the voiding of the statewide mask mandate. Those decisions are now in the hands of local leaders, where they should have been all along. The statewide mandate was handed down by a board of unelected appointees to carry out an executive order the governor no longer has the legal authority to order. A one size fits all approach is not the best way to go. Conditions on the ground are much different in small rural counties and school districts than they are in Fayette, Jefferson, and Warren counties.

Before the General Assembly had finished its business Thursday night, at least one school board -- Lincoln County in central Kentucky -- voted to impose a mask mandate to run through the end of this academic year. Taxpayers, parents, and voters in Lincoln County will get the chance to weigh in on whether or not they agree with that decision next year when school board members are elected. And that's as it should be. As it was, there was no recourse for the state board of education's edict, especially since the education commissioner had basically dismissed complaints from parents as bothersome noise.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the aisle, conservatives are seething over a number of the decisions. Legislative leadership had already stated it had no intent of taking up legislation prefiled for the upcoming 2022 regular General Assembly session, such as prohibiting vaccination mandates as a condition of employment, or making businesses that require employees to take the shot liable for workers compensation claims for vaccine injury. But leaders and members of the Republican supermajority made life difficult for the conservative legislators who wanted to make changes to the bills that were filed. Senate leadership blocked a number of amendments from being attached to bills, and a majority of House Republicans abstained from voting on a procedural matter that would have allowed amendments to come to the floor for a vote by the whole chamber, effectively killing them. ("If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice," Neil Peart wrote and Geddy Lee sang in Rush's classic 1980 anthem "Freewill.") It led to a lot of bad blood, with conservative activists vowing to recruit primary opponents for the RINOs, and legislators accusing members of the public of spreading misinformation.

Yes, some good things were accomplished during the special session. School districts got their added non-traditional instruction (NTI) days and were given flexibility to implement them for individual schools or even classrooms instead of on a district-wide basis. Responsibility for mask requirements was given to local districts, where school board members are also community members and are in touch with the desires of the populace, and where situations may differ from county to county. And, notably, Beshear's one-person reign by decree was curtailed by a body of more than 130 people comprised of individuals from all across the state. An out-of-control government executive was finally required to work with others instead of going it alone. In fact, Beshear and legislative leaders had already reached consensus on much of what was considered in the short special session, the agenda of which was controlled solely by the governor.

But far too many see the just-concluded session as a wasted opportunity. They wanted the legislature to stand stronger for individual liberties. They were looking for the legislators to listen to the voices of the people and abide by their constituents' will, not do their own thing and substitute their own desires for the wishes of the electorate.

Liberals and conservatives don't agree on very much. But now, it seems, both sides are in alignment in the belief that they're disappointed with how the special General Assembly session transpired. Which side has the biggest and most legitimate complaint remains to be seen.

Make the government do the dirty work (Or, it's beginning to look like 2020 all over again)

When I was growing up, the most eagerly anticipated local event of the year was the week-long affair held the first week of September officially known as the Kiwanis Homecoming. Everyone called it "the fair," and for many years there was a county-fair-like portion of the event, with prizes given out for various items, but the highlight was the carnival midway.

There were a number of events held in conjunction with the annual Homecoming Week. A 5K footrace. A combination talent and beauty contest that crowned a homecoming queen. A Saturday morning parade. And the Friday night event in which I participated for years, the cakewalk held as a fundraiser for the high school band. (I played during my middle school and high school years, and for a few years after graduation as part of an alumni band.) It always brought a feeling of pride when one of the winners selected a cake my family had made, or when a specially-decorated cake baked by my mother or grandmother was selected to be auctioned off.

It was a busy week but it was also a fun week. Armed with money provided by my parents and grandparents, I'd hit the midway. I wasn't much of a rider on attractions known as the Octopus, the Scrambler, or the Tilt-A-Whirl, but I enjoyed playing some of the midway games in an attempt to win a prize. And it was always imperative to get a candied or caramel apple, or a burger from the Shriners' food wagon.

In later years, the Kiwanis Homecoming took a back seat to a new event called the Woolly Worm Festival, held in late October. The festival began in the late 1980s and was born out of a popular newspaper column written by local native Rosemary Porter Kilduff, the wife of the local newspaper editor who had achieved national notoriety by being the person who announced the death of President Kennedy to the world. In her column, she dutifully reported the coloration of woolly bear caterpillars sighted by local residents and tallied the results. Since the colors of a woolly worm's coat can predict the severity of the upcoming winter, according to rural mountain folklore, those results were always provided to the National Weather Service office in Jackson "as a public service."

The Woolly Worm Festival rapidly became a popular weekend event during the high point of fall foliage season. Crowds would descent on downtown Beattyville to visit vendors' booths, listen to music, watch a parade, and renew friendships.

Why this trip down Memory Lane and the blurbs about the history of events in my little hometown? What makes this relevant to current events? That will become evident momentarily.

Like every other community, mine wasn't spared from the fallout of the Chinese virus last year. The Woolly Worm Festival was one of many special events that fell victim to cancellation. (The Kiwanis carnival has been held only sporadically in recent years.)

For awhile this year, things seemed to be back on track. Businesses were opening back up. Bars and restaurants were resuming in-person service. People were traveling. Events were being scheduled. But suddenly, virus cases are on the rise and panic is setting in once again.

There have been a rash of cancellations lately. In my hometown, a car cruise, an off-road vehicle event, and a concert (that had been postponed from earlier this year due to inclement weather) have been axed. The local museum called off an old engine and tractor show and a fish fry that is one of its leading fundraising events, which is especially harmful because the museum sustained substantial damage in flooding earlier this year.

And recently, the local Kiwanis Club turned down a chance to book a carnival after being pressured by local officials not to bring them to town. These same local officials are applauding the recent decisions to cancel the other local events.

It's not just here that these cancellations are happening. After previously announcing that proof of vaccination or a recent negative test would be required for participation, Lexington's gay pride festival was called off. Some other annual events have also been postponed for a second straight year.

Yet in other places, special events are taking place as scheduled. A music festival in Manchester, the Honey Festival in Jackson, and the Swift Silver Mine Festival in Campton all took place in recent weeks.

With the local cancellations, and the pressure to not bring a carnival to town, it's logical to ask what will become of the Woolly Worm Festival in 2021. Will the festival organizers hold it as planned, or will they be pressured into calling it off yet again?

Already, the publisher of one of the local newspapers, whose family plays a key role in the festival's organization, has gone on record as stating the festival needs to take place as planned this year. He made the case in an editorial published in this week's edition of their paper.

With the festival only a few weeks away, it's quite likely local officials will try to force the event's planners to call it off and make it look like a voluntary decision on their part.

Here's some advice to all sponsors of special events everywhere: Don't give in. Don't cancel your festivals and celebrations and concerts. If they are to be called off or postponed, make the elected officials do it. Let them take the heat and the blame for it, and let the public decide whether or not they made the right decision.

And members of the public will certainly have an opportunity to weigh in very soon. Local officials (county judges-executive, mayors, fiscal court members, and city council members) will stand for re-election next year. If they prohibit events from being held, or don't vote to approve them, then the voters will get to determine whether or not they agree with that decision.

Organizing a special event is a tireless and often thankless job. Most people who get involved do it because they want to give back to their communities and provide something of value. When decisions were made last year to cancel events, many of these folks took criticism while others praised them. The same thing has happened this year with decisions to call off events, as well as decisions to hold them. These people don't deserve that hassle.

Elected officials, on the other hand, willingly step into the fray and volunteer to take the heat for their decisions. They knowingly take on that responsibility. Put the onus on them. Let them make the decisions, defend those decisions to the public, and then let the electorate make its opinion known at the ballot box. That's what they get paid for.

Politicization of a tragedy hits close to home

Never let a crisis go to waste.

-- First attributed to Winston Churchill, later popularized by Rahm Emanuel

Tragedy recently struck the small community where I grew up and still live. A well-loved school employee, an instructional aide who had long been a volunteer in the school system, died while suffering from the Chinese virus.

I did not know the young lady -- something that's happening with increasing and surprising frequency in my town of 1,000 and county of 7,000 that's always been a tight-knit place where everybody knows everybody else (and everyone else's business) -- but a whole lot of people did. The outpouring of love for her and sympathy for her family was astounding when her death was announced by the local school district and word spread. Her passing was the lead story in both local newspapers.

It probably should come as a shock to no one that her family had not even had time to process their loss and make funeral arrangements until the usual suspects on the left had taken to social media (mostly Twitter) to politicize her death. Scant hours after her death was announced, they were using the tragedy to push an agenda and try to cast blame for her death on those who don't share their beliefs.

In the days that followed, politicians jumped on that train. There's no need to publicly identify them here, as their names are readily apparent to Kentuckians, but their statements and social media posts are a matter of public record.

A family's privacy is always something that should be respected, and it's likely the family gave the school system permission to announce their loved one's death, but there were lots of unreported facts surrounding her illness and death. Was she vaccinated? Did she have any pre-existing conditions (formally known as "comorbidities") that may have been enhanced by the virus? Did she die of the virus or did she die with the virus? (They are two separate and distinct things.) And finally, would she have approved of her death being used to further an agenda? Was she in agreement with those who hitched their advocacy to her passing, or did she oppose what they believe? Would she want her death used in that manner, or would she be appalled at the thoughts of it?

(It should be noted that on the day this is written, a 15-year-old Kentucky student's death was announced, and those same loud liberal voices on Twitter started before lunch trying to blame the other side for the kid's death. One has to wonder how that child's family feels about that happening so quickly).

No question, the pandemic has been politicized, but far more of that has occurred on one side. With every surge in cases and with every death, there are calls for more restrictions on individuals and businesses, for closures and cancellations, and for mandatory vaccinations. It's been disgusting to watch, but it's even more painful when it hits close to home.

Our community could certainly continue to use prayers, not only for the loss suffered by this family and by those who knew and loved her, but for other well-liked people who are ill. What we don't need is out-of-towners who probably couldn't find us on a map using our grief for political purposes.