It was a cold, snowy day in March of 1970. School officials understood the liability of running busses in such dangerous weather, so a snow-day was declared and classes were cancelled. For safety’s sake, this meant we disadvantaged country kids had to spend the next several days chasing coyotes across the foothills of the Big Horn Mountains on snowmobiles; an event much safer than going to school. (Snow-days are great for thirteen-year-old ranch kids.)

We zoomed across northern Sheridan County and there wasn’t a snow drift for miles we hadn’t tracked. We had just come home for dinner when a Mountain Bell service van pulled into the ranch and the repairman asked if he could hire a snowmobile to run him across the hills to a downed phone line. “Mountain Bell will pay you for your services,” he added. It was nearing dark so I sprinted to the shed and fired up our Ski-Doo. The repairman plopped on the back of the snowmobile balancing an armload of tools and supplies on his lap. He pointed across the valley to the ridge where the line was down, so I jumped in front and mashed the throttle. Since I was paid by the hour I wanted to give Mountain Bell their money’s worth.

We blasted across the creek and I could tell by the screams and shrieks from the repairman he appreciated my enthusiasm for work. If it were possible to get a performance bonus your first hour on the job, I was sure I would get one. At 40 miles per hour, I peered ahead through the dwindling light and suddenly spotted a telephone wire suspended three feet off the ground, dead ahead of us. “Duck,” I yelled and I threw my body below the windshield. Lucky for me the windshield flipped the wire safely over my head. The repairman wasn’t so lucky and the phone line snatched him clean off the snowmobile.

I spun my machine around as the repairman staggered to his feet. He was clutching his throat and squeaking tiny words. (I think he was praising me for the speed at which I found the down line.) Unfortunately his clumsy dismount scattered equipment everywhere and all the time I saved Mountain Bell rushing to the jobsite was wasted kicking through the snow finding tools. Eventually, Pass Creek phone service was restored and we zoomed home. Two weeks later I received a check for $5.15 from Mountain Bell; it was the easiest money I had ever earned and every snow-day since I watched for the return of the repairman. He never showed.

When Dad learned of my economic good fortune, he suggested I apply the $5.15 against the repair and fuel bill for the Ski-Doo. That didn’t seem fair, as I was the one who had invested an hour hauling the repairman around, and since time is valuable to a teenager on a snow-day; I was entitled to compensation. Dad shrugged and walked off squeaking the same tiny words the repairman had used a couple weeks earlier. (He knew better than to battle wits with a 13-year-old who had all the answers.) Over time I learned the principles of economics and I now admit I am $5.15 richer today than I truly deserve, and this brings me to my point.

On January 3rd, 2011, Montana will begin our legislative session $466 million in the red. Folks claiming Montana’s checkbook is still in the black are cooking the books. (Interestingly, most scientists now agree this is the true cause of global warming.) Politicians who promise goodies from the state treasury are being deceptive. Enormous budget cuts are needed as we must fundamentally change the size of state government. State agencies are always willing to cut other departments as long as their budget is left intact; figuratively make some one else cough up the $5.15.

Interestingly, the Legislative Fiscal Division listed three variables that might save the day by infusing our general fund with cash. One is particularly noteworthy; the potential state Supreme Court case assessing PPL Inc. back rent for riverbeds lying under their hydroelectric reservoirs. This could create a general fund boost of $63 million and progressives just love this. However, do you see the flaw in their logic? Exactly where will PPL Inc. get their $63 million to pay back rent? You guessed it; ratepayers. Thus the $63 million represents nothing more than a targeted tax increase on Montana’s electricity consumers. For this to work, progressives are counting on voters being no smarter than a 13-year-old.