Capitol mess lies in dome's shadow

Three breathless preteens in ponytails gave me a reality check in Springfield last week.

The girls and I were crowded into an elevator at the Hilton Hotel just blocks from the state Capitol. Dressed in blue satin athletic jerseys and shorts, they had traveled from Chicago's suburbs to play in the Lutheran State Volleyball Tournament.

As the glass-paneled elevator lifted us above Springfield, they could see out over the city. And it was at that moment that one of them grabbed the other two and squealed, "Look! There it is! Oh, my gosh! I've never seen a state Capitol before! I've never been anywhere like this before!"

Two parts of my brain were battling with each other. One part could have shot back, "Honey, you're right, you've never been to a place this screwed up before." Thankfully, my better angels smacked me down. Because the other side of my head recognized something I'd almost lost myself: That there is something inspiring and majestic about seeing the dome of the Capitol set against the Springfield sky in a place where no less than Abraham Lincoln practiced law and politics.

The girls and I parted ways. They headed off to prepare for their next game. And I did, too. My destination was the news conference outside the governor's office where Rod Blagojevich would announce that he had just discovered $27 million lying around that could miraculously bail out Chicago area mass transit one more time, averting the second doomsday meltdown of the system in six weeks. Not a permanent solution to pressing mass transit or infrastructure problems, just a momentary reprieve.

There were a million questions to ask, but the governor wasn't sticking around to answer them. Like John Travolta in "Staying Alive," Blago shot one hand high in the air, cast his eyes and his other hand down to the floor, turned lightly on his heel and exited stage right. He promised a Tuesday meeting with the four warlords who command the Republican and Democratic legislative armies in this war-torn city.

I didn't have the heart to break it to those three terrific kids in the elevator, but we don't need the state Capitol anymore. That big domed building with its elegant Senate and House chambers would be better used for their volleyball tournaments.

Legislators?

We don't need them, either.

Frankly, even the most talented among them -- and there are a number of good legislators -- are forced to be just furniture sitting around waiting to be sat on by the leaders they lack the gumption or the ability to fight.

And so the state of Illinois is functionally in the hands of five guys. A governor who hates his own House speaker, Michael Madigan. A House speaker who despises and is despised by his fellow Democrat, Senate President Emil Jones. And two Republicans flailing in the minority, House leader Tom Cross and Senate leader Frank Watson.

Cross' earnest shuttle diplomacy notwithstanding, what has the paralysis, posturing and outright animosity of this brawling band of brothers already cost us in money thrown down a sinkhole?

Here's just a very short list offered by the Civic Federation, the Center for Tax and Budget Accountability and the Illinois Campaign for Political Reform:

• • $72 million in interest lost because of delayed payments to schools and governments in Cook County.

• • $33 million in lost pension reforms at the CTA

• • $44 million in interest on loans we've had to take out to pay overdue Medicaid bills

It goes on. Further failure by our legislative leaders risks tens of millions of dollars in federal matching funds that hang in the balance for health care and transportation.

Lost with the money is faith that government works.

On Tuesday, when I described those awestruck young girls to Cindy Canary, head of the Illinois Campaign for Political Reform, she made a resigned sound over the phone and said, "Whatever we do, let's not tell the children."