Drop Off The Key, Lee

For several years, the Port Authority (the most misleadingly named government agency other than the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms, which doesn't sell any of those things) has been trying to "spruce up" its bus fleet by painting them with the names of famous local residents (including McKeesport's Clifford Ball), advertising slogans, or colorful abstract designs.

Now, some people would prefer they spruce up the buses by, say, busting the pinheads who carve and scrawl graffiti all over the seats. Still, decking out the exteriors is one place to start, I guess.

The other day, I saw one of those articulated motorcoaches (what the Brits call a "bendy bus") with this message painted on the side:

That big shiny bus
Is really no riddle
But it sure is odd
How it bends in the middle

As far as I know, this is the first time the Port Authority has painted poetry (well, doggerel) on the sides of its buses. It turns out the Post-Gazette had a story about this in January. Spokesman and former co-worker Bob Grove says the rhymes are patterned after the old Burma-Shave signs.

Since PAT is currently facing yet another budget crisis, I realize it may be difficult for the agency to pay for these little rhymes and verses. So I thought I'd contribute a few, pro bono. That's the kind of public-spirited guy I am.

To save some money,
I gave PAT a whirl,
But the bumpy ride home
Always makes me hurl.

It isn't a treat,
To ride a 61C,
Because the back seat,
Always smells like ... urine.

Did you hear the North Shore
Is getting the "T"?
I guess millionaire ballplayers
Are more important than we.

The Mon Valley asked for light-rail;
They got a busway instead.
That's PAT's way of saying:
"Poor folks, drop dead."

PAT boasts of public transit,
But it's just idle talk,
And if this is their service,
You might as well walk.

...

Meanwhile, it's been a while since the Tube City Almanac carried an installment of that long-running, long-annoying feature ... IN THE MON VALLEY, GOOD GOVERNMENT ... IS ON THE MARCH!

(Cue "March of Time" music.)

Dateline: Pleasant Hills! And this time, the GOOD GOVERNMENT ... ON THE MARCH! spotlight strikes The Honorable Mary Grace Boyle, catching her, unfortunately, on the back as she leaves what appears to have become her former courtroom.

We say "appears," because as Mike Bucsko reports in the Post-Gazette, neither court officials nor Governor Rendell's office received so much as a Hallmark card, a "Post-It" note, or a bouquet of dead flowers before Judge Boyle announced she was quitting.

Judge Boyle was re-elected last year to another six-year term, so her abrupt decision to step down less than four months later may seem a bit odd.

Ah, but her election was a bit of a sticky deal, as it turns out; she's been accused of using her county-paid office staff to work on her campaign. This, as countless other political figures can attest, is a no-no. The state Judicial Conduct Board is supposedly investigating, and can impose sanctions even if she resigns her judicial commission --- as she apparently intends to.

Perhaps folks might be inclined to overlook a little electioneering in the office, but I suspect a lot of plaintiffs and defendants are less likely to overlook a backlog of thousands of cases, some of them dating back to the 1990s, that were unfinished.

In many cases, fines and fees that were supposed to be submitted to the county or state weren't sent along; in other cases, defendants who were found not guilty never had their fines and fees returned. The statute of limitations has expired on many of the cases. Some $170,000 is still sitting in an escrow account at a branch bank near the district judge's office.

Well, as Gladstone said, justice delayed is justice denied ... and apparently, the people of Jefferson Hills, Pleasant Hills and South Park shall be denied a justice ... at least until the governor appoints someone to fill Judge Boyle's seat pending the next municipal election.

Over the years, I've been privileged to meet many district justices and magistrates (no, not as a defendant). Some of them were wry and world-weary, others were hard-nosed and no-nonsense.

Most of them weren't lawyers, but I have found most of them conscientious and competent, despite (or maybe because of) their lack of formal law school training, and dedicated to adjudicating cases fairly and swiftly.

Yet it would be impossible to measure their professionalism if there wasn't something to compare it against. Luckily, every so often, an incident arises that makes us appreciate our hard-working justices even more! The Almanac salutes those who throw good local government into sharp contrast with the alternative!

And until next time, remember: IN THE MON VALLEY, GOOD GOVERNMENT ... IS ON THE MARCH!

(Music: Up and out)