E-Mail This Article to a Friend Succeeding Kerry The politics of gubernatorial vetoes, legislative slack, Boston school lunches, and keeping Menino in town BY ADAM REILLY

ONE OF THE BIG questions on Beacon Hill is how Governor Mitt Romney will handle recent legislation that strips his power to name a replacement for Democratic nominee-to-be John Kerry — assuming, that is, that the junior senator from Massachusetts is elected president this fall — and mandates a special election to fill Kerry’s seat. By now, anyone who pays even fleeting attention to state politics will be painfully familiar with the rhetorical back-and-forth on this issue. The governor frets about the undemocratic nature of the legislature’s plan, warning that a special election will leave Massachusetts one senator short in Washington, DC, and automatically steer Kerry’s seat to someone from the state’s all-Democratic congressional delegation. The Great and General Court’s leaders counter with their own good-government anxiety, worrying that if Romney appoints Kerry’s successor — who presumably wouldn’t be a Democrat — the good people of Massachusetts will be denied their right to vote. (It goes without saying that, if the roles were reversed, Bay State Democrats and Republicans would happily swap arguments and attack the rationale they’re now advocating with equal zeal.)

Most political observers assume Romney will veto the special-election legislation. What’s less clear is whether he’ll do it quickly or drag the process out. If the governor takes the former route, the Democrat-dominated legislature — which is considering adjourning early, before the Democratic National Convention grinds Boston to an unpleasant halt — could override his veto before the convention begins on July 26. If he takes a more leisurely approach, the state’s representatives and senators could be back at work on Beacon Hill come July 30.

For Republicans who swoon when Romney speaks of Cleaning Up the Mess on Beacon Hill, the idea of forcing legislators to report for duty in the State House rather than sipping drinks somewhere on the Cape might be enticing. But it’s also risky. "The danger he runs, if he has us come back on the 30th to do an override of the Kerry veto, is that we might take a bunch of other vetoes and override them as well," one Democratic legislator says. "The most obvious of those would be the charter-school moratorium. I think it’s fair to say the legislative leadership has questions about it, but they included it in the budget. If they decide not to take the veto up, it’s conceivable pressure could build up the following week that would force us to take it up if we come back on the 30th."

Put more simply, dragging the legislature back to work could diminish Romney’s chances of making any of his overrides stick. For the time being, the Romney administration is mum about how the governor will handle the special-election bill. "I can’t speculate at this time what action the governor may take, because the bill’s currently under review," says Romney spokesperson Nicole St. Peter. "But the governor believes very strongly that Massachusetts deserves to have full representation in the US Senate, and with this legislation, Massachusetts would be underrepresented in the US Senate." No surprises there. Time will tell whether Romney maximizes the symbolism of a doomed veto or opts for a more pragmatic approach.

SINCE MOCKING the legislature verges on a state pastime, it’s no surprise that, when legislative leaders floated the idea of wrapping up this year’s session early, prior to the Democratic National Convention, the suggestion was greeted with a fair amount of public derision. But there’s nothing inherently laughable about the prospect of the House and Senate taking an extra week off. In 2002, the Massachusetts House and Senate conducted 126 and 138 sessions, respectively — about twice as many as their counterparts in Rhode Island, and about eight times as many as their peers in New Hampshire. (Of course, given their low salaries — Rhode Island legislators, for example, receive $12,600 per year, versus Bay State lawmakers’ annual $53,000 to $80,000 — legislators in those states offer better value in terms of dollars per session.) Not to shower too much sympathy on a body whose members are well compensated and enjoy a number of enviable perks, but Massachusetts representatives and senators seem to face a classic damned-if-they-do, damned-if-they-don’t quandary. Operate on a normal schedule, and they’re lampooned for taking large amounts of time to accomplish relatively little; lop off a segment of the legislative calendar, and their critics cry dereliction of duty. To state the obvious, the legislature is far from perfect. But after two consecutive years of expeditious budget deliberations, as well as intense debate over gay marriage, the men and women of Beacon Hill may deserve just a bit of slack.