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From the Capitol to Court Street
By DEBORAH O'NEIL, Times Staff Writer Tucked in a cabinet of County Commissioner John Morroni's office are the famous faces of his political past. There's the photo of Morroni and Bob Dole. Morroni and Dan Quayle. Morroni and Bob Martinez. Birthday greetings from George Bush, George W. Bush and Jeb Bush. At one time, the memorabilia hung on the walls of his Tallahassee office, where he spent eight years as a state representative. Today, some are still wrapped in packing paper. "That was another life," Morroni said. "I don't put this any of this stuff out anymore. I had it out for eight years." For Morroni, the transition from the Capitol to Court Street has brought new challenges as he's shifted from issues such as abortion and school vouchers to zoning and reclaimed water. County politics has cast Morroni in the spotlight far more often than when he had some measure of anonymity among 120 state representatives. "The main political difference is in Tallahassee it's very partisan," Morroni said. "Here it's not partisan at all. The votes on the commission aren't on party lines. It's a philosophy of government or your just plain opinion." At the same time, it's also been a coming home of sorts for the 47-year-old who for years has missed his wife's birthday and their wedding anniversary because he spent 70 percent of his time in Tallahassee or on the road. For the first time, Morroni says, he routinely can pick up his son at school and make it his school events. "The No. 1 thing is, I'm home," Morroni said. "No matter how many speeches I give at night, I always get to come home at night and be with my family." Morroni follows in the footsteps of at least one other Pinellas County commissioner who moved from state to county politics, the legendary Charles Rainey. Being a commissioner, Rainey said, is a lot tougher because the issues hit so close to home. "You're one on one with the people as compared to Tallahassee, where you're 225 miles away and you write letters," Rainey said. In Tallahassee, you fought for a bill or against it, Rainey said. "If you won, that's great. If you lost it, you went out and had a drink with the guy who beat you. Tomorrow the guy may help you. In the county, it was a little deeper than that. At the local level, you fought somebody and they may not speak to you for three months." County government, Morroni has discovered, is a steady stream of work with none of the stops and starts of the legislative cycle. "I didn't think it was so much of a daily dose of governmental issues," Morroni said. "It's a lot of hands-on. In the legislature, it's a bureaucracy. Here the buck stops with the seven of us. In the legislature, it's 120 of us." Feedback at the county level, Morroni said, is almost instant. Constituents call Tuesday afternoon to comment on Tuesday morning County Commission meetings they watched on television. In Tallahassee, Morroni said, feedback came from lobbyists and special interest groups. At the county, e-mail pours in year-round. Mail arrives in bundles. Like the other six commissioners, Morroni's calendar is booked every weekday with meetings, appointments and speaking engagements. "It's not like the state level when there was a big issue coming up for a vote, there would be a lot of calls," said Mike Hauser, a friend who worked as Morroni's district aide for two years and now runs a business in Countryside. "Now it's more constant." On what amounted to a fairly quite Monday last week, Morroni arrived around 1 p.m. at his office, decorated with Egyptian artifacts and his collection of elephants. On top of a cabinet, he keeps the American flag from his grandfather's and father's burials. Both were veterans. His shelves are filled with books on American presidents and other historical figures. In a meeting with County Administrator Steve Spratt, the two review the next day's meeting agenda: a 4.5-inch-thick heap of paperwork. Morroni wanted the chance to provide some input on one issue in particular, the hiring of lobbyists to represent the county in the next legislative session set to begin in January. Morroni supports the move. "Your perspective would be very useful," Spratt told the commissioner. Next up for Morroni was a meeting with two businessmen who want to sell the county a suspended light rail system. Morroni carried in a plate of holiday cookies. As one of the men reached for a cookie, Morroni said jokingly: "Don't take that one. It's my favorite." The clock was ticking as the men gave their presentation. Morroni was supposed to be across town at another appointment in a half-hour. The discussion finally turned to dollars. Morroni learned that to build such a system would cost $24-million to $32-million a mile. "Thirty-two million a mile?" Morroni sputtered as he leaned forward toward the businessmen. "Oh, my God, I can't . . . " Morroni trailed off. "Per mile? That's, like, absurd." His official duties ended at a 6 p.m. holiday dinner sponsored by the Republican Club of Greater Largo. When it was all over, he headed to his Feather Sound home to be with his wife,Eileen, and 10-year-old son, Mike. Mrs. Morroni, 46, an education coordinator for Morton Plant Mease Health Care, said it's a relief to share the work of taking care of home and family. He recently went alone to St. Cecilia's Catholic school to check out its middle school, which their son might attend. One day last week, Morroni stood in line at the post office for 35 minutes to pick up 100 Christmas stamps per his wife's orders. "I'm a lot more available than I used to be," Morroni said with a smile. "It's been great to have him there," Mrs. Morroni said. "He does a lot more with Mike. It's not all on me to make sure he's where he needs to be." Just hanging out around the house is something new for the Morronis. "One night my wife said, "I can't believe you're just laying on the couch watching TV and not on the phone or anything," Morroni said. The couple says their son has made the most of having Dad home. "When he was little, he didn't understand the concept of "Daddy will be here Friday night,' " Mrs. Morroni said. "So he'd ask me every day, "Is Daddy coming home today?' I'd have to explain it. Then he'd get all excited and wound up when he came home, and it would take him two days to unwind after John left." Now the two are attached at the hip, Mrs. Morroni said. Morroni often gets asked whether he misses Tallahassee. He says he misses some of the people. "But I don't miss being up there," Morroni said. "It's nice to be home." © 2006 • All Rights Reserved • St. Petersburg Times
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From the Times North Pinellas desks |
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