The table was set for reform-hungry Scranton voters to nominate successors to three-term Mayor Chris Doherty, but they showed little appetite for change at City Hall in Tuesday's primary election.
Just under 37 percent of city Democrats voted; about 19 percent of their Republican neighbors. The turnout was shockingly anemic, considering taxpayers' endless braying about being bled dry by a parasitic government.
Turnout was similarly listless countywide (35.3 percent), but at least voters supported a government study commission that could lead to real change and voted to keep county row offices, rejecting a naked power grab by the incumbent county commissioners. Jim Wansacz, Corey O'Brien and Pat "Cheese" O'Malley weren't up for re-nomination, but voters let them know they were lucky not to be on the ballot.
City voters sent a different message: Forget belt-tightening! Bring on the bankruptcy buffet!
People who don't exercise their right to vote don't do much heavy lifting. They slouch on the couch emptying family-size bags of Doritos and wonder why they are short of breath walking to the fridge. These same people wonder when the government is finally going to get its act together, lose some weight and stop gobbling up taxpayers' beer money.
In the Scranton mayoral race, voters had a choice between a three-egg sausage-and-cheese omelet with a side of bacon or a pomegranate-and-kale smoothie with a handful of multivitamins and a brisk jog. It was two Texas wieners with a side of gravy fries and a jumbo Coke versus a fish taco with quinoa and sparkling water; four-cheese lasagna with garlic bread and tiramisu or grilled salmon with a side salad and an hour of hot yoga.
In a region with an adult obesity rate of nearly 25 percent, it's no surprise city voters opted for empty calories over self-help. Bill Courtright, who won the Democratic nod for mayor, is a brick-and-mortar candidate, an analog relic wandering a digital world. He is a throwback to a time when red meat, cheap bourbon and Lucky Strikes were part of a healthy diet. He is stationary. Familiar. Comfort food for a chronically constipated electorate.
Liz Randol, who finished a distant second to Mr. Courtright, is a sleek, shiny food truck fresh from the interstate, proudly mobile and pushing nutritious alternatives to the same old fattening fare. She is a digital diva, an exotic dish trying to beat the blue-plate special.
In Scranton, cholesterol - both dietary and political - is a condiment. It's a meat-and-potatoes town. Ms. Randol is Tofurkey, Brussels sprouts and Pilates. She was not born here, earned a Ph.D., and never met a necklace she thought too bulky.
She also lost track of a loaded handgun that was found on a city sidewalk a block away from an elementary school. I can hear the partisan groans as I type, but those who dismiss the handgun debacle as a non-issue are delusional. It was a serious lapse of judgment and personal accountability.
It was also a gift-wrapped excuse for voters who bleat about officials who treat legal boundaries as optional, but voted to entrust the future of the city to a man who runs his current elected office in violation of state law and common sense.
In his three-plus years as tax collector, Mr. Courtright has continued to mix Single Tax Office collections, an illegal practice that six short years ago resulted in the build-up of $12.2 million in a mystery account, about $2 million of which disappeared without a reliable trace. He also broke the law by hiring a solicitor for the office. He says it was too difficult to separate the funds (follow the law), and that having a tax office solicitor is "the way it's always been done."
In his own words, Bill Courtright represents the past. This truth was punctuated by the sight of former Mayor Jim Connors kissing his cheek Tuesday night. Mr. Connors is one of the kindest, funniest, most good-hearted people I have ever known, but these qualities undermined him as the city's chief executive. He meant well, but a CEO who can't say no is bound to get rolled. Eleven years after leaving office, the ragged ghosts of Mr. Connors' mistakes still haunt the city.
Whether Mr. Courtright will repeat those mistakes remains to be seen. He still has to beat Gary Lewis, the Republican nominee, in November. Ms. Randol was counting on Republican write-in votes to keep her campaign alive, but as the official count broke for the day on Friday, it was clear the math is not on her side.
While she conceded that Mr. Lewis won the Republican nod, Ms. Randol said she would wait until the official count is complete to say it's over. I admire her tenacity, but it may be time for Ms. Randol's friends to pull her aside and say, "Maybe Scranton is just not that into you."
A lot can happen over the next six months, but in Scranton, the past seems forever prologue. Given the chance Tuesday to confront a bloated, arrogant, hypertensive government that has gorged itself on every fattening morsel it can shovel down its greedy gullet, Scrantonians voted to keep the gravy train rolling toward the morgue.
This is the way it's always been done.
CHRIS KELLY, The Times-Tribune columnist, never met a bag of Doritos he thought too bulky. Contact the writer: kellysworld@timesshamrock.com, @cjkink on Twitter