Political Motivations Why are candidates running for the more obscure positions on next week’s ballot? by Ron Harris ometimes, I have to admit, I sit around and try to figure out why some people do what they do. I know that it sounds like a rather silly exercise, but there are things that do puzzle me, and being a reflective fellow I have a tendency to try to give them some thought. For instance, why did Tameka over at Easy Way decide to spell her name in gold caps across the front of her mouth? And why do so many other folks, especially young black men and women, hold such a fascination for gold teeth? Or, why do some women pin their hair together in these circle curls and then stack them up around their head until their hair looks like a birdcage? Then they spray it with something that makes it literally rock hard. I guess they do it because they think it’s cute. But why do they think it’s cute? And don’t they worry that something might fly in there and not be able to get out? Or why did one judge last week uphold citations on three separate occasions one morning against people ticketed for being in a local park after hours (the mayor’s new get tough plan?), and another judge across the hall throw out the case against a guy who was cited for having sex in the park? “The judge said making love wasn’t against the law,” the defendant’s cousin recalled, himself in court for shooting a B.B. gun at cans. The neighbors called the police, he said, because they thought he was shooting at squirrels. But most recently I was trying to figure out why anybody would be running for county register, or county clerk, or Probate Court clerk, or Criminal Court clerk, or Circuit Court clerk. I can understand why the folks who are already in there want to stay. There’s a little something called power and perks, and the salary ain’t half bad – $87,230 for some of those jobs. But it’s the new guys I’m trying to figure. Don’t get me wrong. These are actually important offices, each performing functions vital to Shelby County residents. But c’mon. Who graduated from high school or college and said, “Gee, I really want to make a difference. I want to serve. I want to be the county register”? Let’s be honest. Most of us don’t even know what the offices do. Even most of the people who currently hold these positions admit that they didn’t really know exactly what the offices did until they got in there. Probate Court clerk Chris Thomas had done some research, but admits that he “basically had to start from scratch” after he got elected four years ago. “I didn’t know a lot about the department,” County Court clerk Jayne Creson recalls of her appointment five years ago. “I really didn’t know much about the Department of Motor Vehicles.” So, if most people don’t really know what these offices do, why would they spend money, time, and energy to get these jobs? Guy Bates has been the county register since before John Glenn circled the planet in the Mercury space capsule. So, why did he want the job? “I was looking for a better salary, make that a better job, and I happened to get appointed by what was then the County Court,” Bates says. His salary in 1962 was $10,000. He’s come a long way since then. Bates has received an average salary increase of $2,139 annually. Not a bad reason to stick around. Thomas, the Probate Court clerk, was on the city school board when his current position came open. “My ambition in high school was to go into politics,” he says. So why run for Probate Court clerk, I asked, when you were already a school-board member? “I always wanted to serve the citizens of Shelby County in a full-time position,” he answers. As Probate Court clerk? He says that his current pay was a “sizeable increase” from what he was making selling telephone systems at ATS Telephone and Data Systems. How much of an increase? “I’d rather not give that out.” Now, I don’t mean to imply that Thomas took the job because of the money. In fact, everybody seems oblivious to the money. Robert Harris wants to be county register because he thinks “a black person or a Hispanic person should be in that office.” Forget the $30,000 increase in pay. Gary Brown, a master auto mechanic with the city, wants to be Probate Court clerk so that he can root out the crooked politicians and “help the older people.” And I believe him. It just happens that he would make $32,000 more every year. Ralph White, pastor of Bloomfield Baptist Church, wants to bring his team of seven into the Criminal Court clerk’s office to right the “racial and gender discrimination” by the current court clerk who’s “not open to the kind of diverse talent that we have in the city, irregardless of race.” White’s salary would double, and he’d still retain his pastor’s salary. I couldn’t reach Larry Finch to find out his reasons for running, but I guess he figured his career as a basketball player and coach has prepared him to keep track of property records. It certainly wouldn’t have anything to do with the money.