No, it is not the Wabash

Cannonball, coming clickety-clack down the track,

belching steam and sparks from its inverse cone-shaped

smokestack that you hear a-coming.

It is something far more

powerful that is roaring toward us from the countryside.

The "it" is the

first-of-the-millennium meeting of the Georgia General

Assembly - and you might as well get ready for it,

because there is no stopping this once-a-year

constitutional tornado of humanity which descends upon us

for 40 days and 40 nights every January.

If you have never witnessed

this phenomenon in person, you have missed an experience

every man, woman, and child in this state should have at

least once in their lives.

Because of the profession I

chose, it has been my privilege to see 15 or so of these

sessions, including some special ones devoted to a single

issue and even more limited in time frame than the

regular ones.

As a scribe, I tried to

decipher and portray what was happening for whichever

audience I was serving at the time.

But, in reality, one can

not begin to describe what actually happens under the

Gold Dome in Atlanta when the state legislature is in

session.

And, because that old

saying about not watching as sausage and laws are made

really is true, most readers of a family newspaper

probably would not want to see a description of what goes

on when these 237 pillars of their community get together

and begin to suffer from "groupspeak."

Simply stated, though, the

annual meeting of a Georgia legislative session is most

like a tent revival-civic club meeting-Jaycee Good

Government seminar-Sunday School social-League of Women

Voters-garden club flower show-historical society annual

meeting-and-small town city council work session all

rolled into one parcel and wrapped up with a bipartisan

ribbon of red, white, and blue bunting.

But, that does not begin to

describe it either.

Because in every

legislative session you have the sincerely dedicated

civic leaders who come to town to do the best they can

for their fellow citizens who elected them working right

alongside their fellows who are out to get everything

they can for themselves and their special interest

friends.

And joining them both in

the lawmaking will be those partisans of either extreme

who know that only they have the truth of God carved on

stone tablets and handed down from the mountainside,

alongside another group of true believers who don't want

anything to do with any commandments carved on tablets

unless they get a say in what those commandments prohibit

(or don't prohibit, as the case may be.)

Now, all those colorful

descriptions are written somewhat with my tongue planted

firmly in cheek, because in my years of observing the

Georgia General Assembly in action, I have seen far more

sincere, hard-working individuals than I have clowns.

The connivers and the

crooks who have occasionally served in those marble

hallways were rarities indeed - and when they were

found out they were quickly eradicated from the midst of

the men and women who sincerely want to serve their

fellow Georgians.

Some folks who have never

been under the Dome - except when they served as

chaperones on their children's school outings -

probably don't believe that latter statement.

All they know is what they

read in the newspapers - and we all know that daily

and weekly publications write what sells!

So, clear the smoke away

from your eyes and the cobwebs out of your brains -

and watch closely what goes on when the legislators come

to town.

You may be surprised to

learn that a whole lot of those denizens under the Dome

are doing exactly what you would do if you were down

there receiving the same information they are getting.

And, don't forget: They are

the ones with the courage to put their principles and

their careers on the line in the communities from whence

they came in order to face the lions in the arena.

[Lee N. Howell is an

award-winning writer who has been observing and

commenting upon politics and society in the Southern

Crescent, the state, and nation for more than a quarter

of a century.]