It’s budget time at Gordon House and for the moment some of the heat and attention has been taken off the Senate appointments controversy. Not that the JLP intended it to be so, for they have already set their foot deeper into it with the Supreme Court appeals ensuring that the party contretemps remains in the spotlight.

There have been so many legal opinions put forward since the declaration of the judges on that eventful Friday afternoon. One wonders where were these learned opinions and self-righteous arguments when the undated letters first came to light three years ago. It seems to me that many of us were taken by surprise by the timing of the rulings as we thought that the issue had been swept under the carpet or the matter settled out of court. Then suddenly the fountains of wisdom opened and there rained down an avalanche of statements and counter-statements, interpretations, dire predictions, and the sure certainty that the constitution mash up.

One person from the so-called “articulate minority” ventured the opinion that the Opposition leader should have voluntarily given himself a two-month break with the concurrence of his parliamentary colleagues and invite Dr Ken Baugh to act temporarily in that post. Then, he suggests, the party would have had a chance to right itself and resume on the leader’s return with a clean sheet. Quite a challenging thought.

As it is, we now wait with bated breath on the ruling which will take a while. If you ask my opinion (and nobody has asked), I am betting Andrew will win, as the Constitution does not, regretfully and unfortunately, stipulate “independence”, nor any form of objective thinking, in the Senate.

But back to the Budget, and congratulations to the framers of the new format. It provides for less speakers and less time for lengthy and lofty speeches. It provides for intense question-and-answer sessions, where government policymakers put themselves on the line and under the Opposition spotlight. We have already seen a healthy exchange with Finance Minister Peter Phillips squaring off with Opposition finance spokesman Audley Shaw at the Standing Finance Committee. Of course, the budget proposals will have relatively easy passage as the votes have already been accounted for in both Houses, Lower and Upper, and the ayes will have it.

Nevertheless, based on the new format we should get genuine debates rather than just prepared speeches, and we can count on Phillips, Shaw, Paulwell, Thwaites, Wheatley, Charles, Henry, and the other young members to make their usual valuable contributions. And, of course, the prime minister and the Opposition leader who will be shaping up for the national debates, which we are told will be staged later this year.

Now one of the most difficult tasks facing the Government at this time will be how to figure out a way to get money out of the taxpayer without disturbing the voter.

In that regard, the finance minister will find himself in good company if he turns to his church finance committee for advice. One hearsay story tells us that the telephone rings at the manse and the pastor answers the phone. “Hello, is this the pastor?” “It is.” “This is the Collector of Taxes. Can you help us with some information?” “I’ll try.” “Do you know John Williams?” “I do.” “Is he a member of your church?” “He is.” “Did he donate $40,000?” “He will.”

One bit of good news so far is that there will be no new taxes. Yet there are so many million-dollar projects being announced every day outside of the normal budgetary allocations. Where will all this money come from? I gather that some will be raised from grants with a portion of the members of parliament’s constituency development fund (CDF) attached.

The CDF has brought into sharp focus the creeping influence that constituency demarcation is playing in our lives. In earlier days we grew up learning that Jamaica is divided into three counties and 14 parishes. I knew my district where I was born, and I knew my parish. Now I am hearing all too often about my constituency, as Jamaica has been delineated into 63 constituencies headed, of course, by your local favourite MP. I took objection long ago to being asked how is my constituency instead of how is Bushy Hill or Susumber Walk, or wherever I come from. The day when letters arrive in the post addressed to Mr So and So, N-W or N-E such and such a parish, and without a proper postal address, we have had it. Watch this trend carefully.

In the same breath, when an MP refers to the CDF funds as “my fund” he should be careful not to take too much ownership. A politician builds a good road and if he remains in office it can be named the Joe Blow Highway. But, mark you, if and when he loses, it will be known as the Joe Blow Memorial Highway. Fortunately for me, the few politicians I am privileged to know on a personal basis are persons respected for their sense of service and social conscience. And, in spite of the jokes we make when we take them out of winding, there is a lot of good stuff going around.

And don’t begrudge your MPs too much. Their lives are not their own. Remember, the MP has to be at every function in the constituency. It’s never a case of why he is there, it’s a case of why he isn’t there. If he doesn’t turn up at the funeral, the wedding, the birthday party, the graduation, the dedication, you hear the whispers, “him don’t care”.

Come with me for a moment to a planning meeting for the opening of Miss Juicy’s Bar and Grocery on Mountain Top road, or the expansion of a basic school at Shoe Me Foot corner. Hours are spent debating on whether the MP should be invited. Some say “him don’t business wid us”, others say he is going to take all the credit. The ones from the other side don’t want him to come. Eventually he is invited. Then comes the question, should he be asked to speak? And does he bring greetings, remarks, or be the guest speaker. Give him five minutes, tell him to be short. (Try that with the late Roger Clarke). And what about the caretaker? He should have something to say.

The entire planning meeting is bogged down with these tiny details. Inevitably, the MP arrives late, but he scores his points by being present, then leaves early to go to another meeting or function. Not necessarily true, but he has to slip away to avoid any embarrassing questions or make any commitments.

If at this level you wonder why committee meetings take so long, imagine what takes place at planning meetings at a higher level, for instance the National Development Thrust. One chairman announced to his committee that,

“we are going to continue to have meetings every day until we find out why no work is getting done”. It must have been that same chairman who invited the secretary to read the hours of the last meeting.

One of the shortest and most efficient meetings that I have ever visited was when the late great Percy Broderick Snr invited me to drop in at the annual general meeting of the Bull Head Mountain (in Clarendon and at the centre of Jamaica) Potato Growers Branch Society meeting.

I was a young tourist board officer and he had invited me to explore with him the potential for Bull Head Mountain as a tourist attraction.

Broderick, who ruled the roost in that part of the island (he was the perennial head of the JAS), timed the meeting for exactly 45 minutes, as he explained to the members that he had a guest, and anyway, he didn’t want to keep the ladies from going home to prepare their husbands’ dinners.

He asked for a show of hands to return him as president, then suggested the committee be returned by unanimous vote, giving Miss Enid pride of place as secretary, “I suggest we make Miss Enid secretary again because she mek the best potato puddn’ inna Bull Head,” this to loud applause and acceptance. We were out of there in under the hour. And no MP for guest speaker.

Now as Gordon House starts to fine-tune its budget debate and parliamentary procedures, they will need to find innovative ways to deal with distractions and questions that can derail the progress and process. In the earlier days of communist regimes back in the 20th century, parliaments had their own way of dealing with questions that took you off track.

It is said that at one such session in a certain Congress Comrade Chattabox got up and said: “I have only three questions to ask. If our country is the best in world agriculture, what happened to our bread? Number two, if we are the greatest industrial nation in the world, what happened to our automobiles? And three, if our cattle farmers are the best, what happened to our meat.”

The chairman stared at him, he couldn’t believe his ears. Then he answered, “It is too late to reply to your questions tonight. At our next meeting I will answer them fully.”

When the committee resumed its meeting the following week, another party member rose and said “I have only one question to ask. What has happened to Comrade Chattabox?”

Lance Neita is a communications and public relations consultant. Comments to the Observer or to lanceneita@hotmail.com