Where I Stand -- Kenneth Bouton: Few similarities left in local government after 25 years
Friday, Aug. 7, 1998 | 12:56 p.m.
IN AUGUST, Where I Stand is written by guest columnists. As an investigative reporter for the Sun, Kenneth Bouton established his credentials as a journalist. Later, as an administrative assistant for the city, he became the conscience of public officials. His column in Nevada Senior World, of which he is editor emeritus, is a popular feature of the local newspaper devoted to seniors. As Bouton notes in his guest column, city government today is much more costly than it was 20 or more years ago. He also addresses the subject of seniors and what they are seeking in Las Vegas.
MORE THAN 30 YEARS have slipped by since this reporter's byline was last printed at the head of a column or a news story in the pages of the Sun.
As longtime readers will recall, many of those articles made the front page under headlines outlining yet another story of political chicanery on the Las Vegas scene. And my weekly "City in the Sun" column more often than not hammered away on the same theme.
So the letter from Sun Publisher Brian Greenspun inviting me to do a guest column was like a trip down memory lane -- especially when he suggested I write about how present city government compares to "the good old days," and on a different but very much related matter -- what Southern Nevada's senior citizens are "searching for."
About the only similarity between city government now and 25 years ago, when the town got its new city hall, is that it is still administered from the same building, albeit an edifice that has undergone renovations in recent years probably more costly than the entire facility cost for initial construction. And today, many city government functions are conducted in buildings far removed from city hall -- including one that the city remodeled at a cost of $1.5 million and may be forced to vacate.
Probably the major change, and certainly one of greatest impact, is the cost of city government, then and now. The entire city budget in 1973, including the police department, was less than $25 million. The current budget calls for nearly $150 million just for public safety.
In the mid-1970s, city administrators who earned more then $20,000 a year were a rarity. Today, entry-level salaries can begin around $30,000, and jobs paying upwards of $75,000 are not uncommon. In the "good old days," the mayor was paid a whopping $500 a month.
City budgets a generation ago honestly reflected and accurately tracked the costs of city government. As one city staffer recently noted, today's budgets are nothing but a "crude guide" put together to comply with state law. To put it another way, when last did you hear our mayor or a councilman say they would like to do this or that, but "it's not in the budget" or "we don't have the money"? The current administration is on a spending orgy that must be the envy of dozens of other cities, whose tax base, and therefore revenues, have grown at modest rates.
Millions of dollars have been wasted on projects primarily to benefit special interests, other millions on projects highly questionable as a proper use of public funds, and some doomed to failure before the first tax dollar ever went into the pot.
Eminent domain -- the taking of private property and handing it over for other private or commercial development -- was unheard of. So was erecting barriers and denying public use of many city streets, the current vogue to "control" traffic.
Another major change, in this reporter's opinion, is the ever-widening rift between elected officials and the average working stiff, who often holds down two jobs just to meet his ever-soaring obligations to the tax collector.
In the "good old days," an open-door policy was truly in effect at city hall. Anyone with a real or imaginary beef could walk into the offices of the city manager or mayor and be assured of a courteous hearing. In part because of the city's continued attraction of kooks, nuts and other misfits, the one-time open-door policy is now, literally, a locked-door policy. Today, trying to make even telephone contact with the top brass -- much less an eye-to-eye discussion -- may be more difficult than getting a pass into Fort Knox. I know this from personal experience. For example, at 9:20 a.m. on July 15, while writing this column, I made a call to the city manager's office to ask one simple question: The price tag of the current budget. The woman who took my call didn't have the answer (imagine, the city manager's office doesn't even know what the budget is), but she courteously transferred my call to the finance office. No one answered the phone, so my call then was rerouted to the city's public-information office. I repeated the question, and after giving my name and phone number, I was assured of a return call and the needed information "in a few minutes."
I am still waiting for that call as I walk out my door to deliver this to the Sun, more than six hours later!
Now let's turn to what our senior citizens are searching for -- including the tens of thousands of retirees who've moved here recently, as well as those who for many years have been paying their civic dues in Las Vegas.
Among their hopes are financial peace of mind, top-quality health care, limitless leisure-time opportunities, year-round tolerable weather and an inner sense of meaning of the words "golden years." Add to that low taxes, less government intrusion on their lives, freedoms and independence for which they've labored and saved most of their lives.
Are they finding these things in Las Vegas? Many have. Others have come here and bought their "dream home" for retirement, only to later discover that a sprawling and traffic-snarling shopping center, noisy casino, sports complex, office building, ad infinitum, will become their neighbors. And there is a direct correlation between these traumatic violations of public trust and the frequency of meetings of city and county officials who continue to give free reign to developers, regardless of devastating impacts on neighborhoods and lifestyles.
Our assembly-line style of health care is often a far cry from the doctor-patient relationships common in smaller towns. This reporter hears far more complaints than compliments in this regard.
And yes, all seniors, this writer included, search for that "senior discount" offered by many merchants as a value-proven lure to their establishments.
But a major plus for our seniors, and everyone else, is the rarely mentioned fact that Las Vegas is still a "two-newspaper town," and unless you've lived in a big city where but one paper espouses its views and often-slanted news, you simply cannot know the value of having two watchdogs keeping an eye on the -- in words politically correct -- "ethical lapses" among our elected officials.
As a final comment, I believe the Sun's reporting and editorial staffers continue to lead the way in championing the public's right to know. To cite but one example, Ruthe Deskin was at her desk when I joined the Sun staff in 1963. A great credit to the newspaper profession, she remains today Nevada's premiere columnist. She is the only writer I know who can deflate the most pompous stuffed shirt among us, and in words the target may often view as flattering.
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