The speaker phone on Gov. Bill Richardson’s desk beeps.
“Governor, Ruben Smith is on line 1.”
“Who?”
“Your OCA director.”
“What’s OCA? That sounds federal.”
“Office of Cultural Affairs, sir.”
“Hello?”
“Hi, it’s Ruben, boss. I think we might have a problem. I was reading the paper and it says the way we fired that guy with all the experience and the advanced degrees, that Tom Wilson guy, it caused some concern at the outfit that gives accreditation.”
“Accreditation? That’s for universities. You sure you’re not a regent?”
“No, boss, I think the job you gave me was to direct all the museums and stuff like that, and it says in the paper that the American Association of Museums Accreditation Commission might be concerned about us.”
“Well, I have thousands of boards and commissions to decimate and hundreds of exempt personnel positions to ravage, so I don’t want to get involved in this unless it affects the furnishing of the mansion with cultural properties. Just have somebody write a letter on my stationary to this credit bureau, or whatever it is, agreeing with all its concerns and promising to pay off everything in full after the Axis of Evil war.”
“Boss, there’s nobody to write a letter! We fired everybody. There isn’t anybody left except one regent, and he won’t talk to me because he used to be an ambassador. I’m starting to worry I’m not qualified, sir.”
“Don’t worry, Ruben. You submitted a very impressive resignation letter. Weren’t you a legislator once and mayor of Las Cruces for 11 years? And didn’t your family own a shopping center? You just can’t get more cultural than that, unless you were an ambassador. Come to think of it, I was an ambassador. I don’t wanna talk to you. Goodbye.”
The speaker phone beeps again.
“Governor, it’s a big Oil and Gas man with a sattelite phone on line 2.”
“Hello, Saddam? I want you to know, I do not speak for the administration, but I do agree with its policies, and also I agree with all your concerns.”
“Governor, it’s Bob Gallagher. I think we might have a problem at NMSU. You remember, I’m gonna be president of the board of regents as soon as there is a board of regents and they can exercise their independent judgement and vote their consciences on who should be president?”
“Oh,yeah. I have your letter of resignation on top of the pile, Bob, and I have to tell ya, it’s a beauty. What is this problem that I’m sure you will deal with independently and without political interference from the governor’s office?”
“Well, boss, it’s about this applicant we have for Dean of Business Administration and Economics. He’s a PhD and the CEO of an HMO and a former agricultural economics professor here. He knows his field, the school and the state. So when we turn him down, there might be talk in the media.”
“What’s his party affiliation?”
“Republican. He used to be governor. It’s Garrey Carruthers, governor. He also plays golf.”
“Well, Bob, we’ll just have to hire him, using personnel procedures of the highest nonpolitical order. But in his letter of resignation have him confess to misfeasance in office, unsound fiscal policy, poor negotiation skills, robbery, burglary and bad putting. Also, have him sign a separate letter resigning as a member of the U.S. Senate in case he’s ever appointed or elected.”
“OK, boss. I’ll have young Steve Anaya do that.”
“No, Steve’s close to the Kings out in Moriarty, and he’s busy getting a letter of resignation from Gary in case he’s ever elected or appointed to the U.S. Senate. Do it yourself, Bob, and do it right, without political interference. But I gotta go. The urgent light is blinking on my State Department worldwide digital fiberoptic global crisis hotline. . . . Hello, Holá, Ciao, Bon Jour, Konichi-wa, Nin Hau. . . .”
“Governor, it’s just me, Jamie, the former Democratic State Chairman. I know you don’t like me calling on this line, but we have a budget problem.”
“Well, that’s why I made you a regent of the University of New Mexico. You can spot these things and take care of them without political interference. What’s the problem?”
“Boss, there’s a shortfall and a downturn and fallout and a meltdown amounting to several thousand dollars.”
“Jamie, that’s nothing for a big university.”
“It’s not UNM. It’s the party treasury.”
“Whoa! I don’t wanna hear it. You better hang up right now. . . . And then call me back on the federal homeland security orange alert scrambled stationary sattelite phone. . . .”