THE major downfall of many local politicians is not greed, lethargy or Clintonesque lust. It's ego. Just because they've won popularity contests called elections and have lobbyists groveling for their votes all the time, their arrogance pollutes the air like a bad case of vog. Waiting for an apology
from Senator AkiIt's easy to get a "big head" when you make the laws in this town. But the latest fracas at the state Senate, an internal commotion involving Democratic Sen. James Aki, makes one yearn for the long-lost traits of humility and remorse.
Check out this sorry dateline of events:
In November 1993, Aki rented some of his property in Nanakuli to members of the United Parents and Children of Polynesia church, who said they wanted to use it for "fund-raising" purposes.
In December 1993, Aki visited the premises and noticed about 50 people playing bingo. He asked church leaders whether that was legal. They said yes, since all of the proceeds went to "community services, scholarships and assistance to members." Aki, without consulting an attorney, accepted the explanation.
In 1994, the church folks asked Aki if they could rent additional space, since more people were attending the bingo games. He agreed.
In March 1994, HPD conducted a raid on the property. Aki terminated the church's lease.
In July 1996, Aki was indicted by the grand jury for the bingo operation under the charges of gambling and racketeering.
In November 1997, criminal proceedings against Aki commenced in Judge Wilfred Watanabe's courtroom. Aki, represented by Michael Green, denied committing any crime but pleaded "no contest" to the charges. He was fined a thousand bucks.
Case closed? Not quite. Last December, President Norman Mizuguchi appointed the Senate Judiciary Committee to investigate Aki's case and suggest any sanctions to be taken against him.
This is where Aki begins to act like a petulant keiki. First, he refused to testify before the Judiciary Committee -- on the advice of his lawyer -- because he said its members lacked the jurisdiction to decide his fate.
In addition to taking away Aki's memberships on all committees except one, Mizuguchi ordered him not to travel at the expense of taxpayers and asked for a formal letter of explanation. Then, Aki became even more childlike. Even though some of his fellow senators suggested that Aki apologize in his explanatory letter, he refused.
He hadn't done anything wrong, ergo he would not say that he was sorry. To anybody. Period.
PERHAPS Aki has a bad case of writer's block. In that regard, I've taken the liberty of drafting the apology portion of his public letter, which is due this week. Senator, feel free to plagiarize the following statement:
"I'm sorry for breaking the law; being ignorant of the law; exercising poor judgment in not consulting my attorney before I got busted; embarrassing my constituents, family and my colleagues in the Senate; taking time away from more pressing legislative issues; questioning the wisdom of the Senate president; rebuking the fairness of the Judiciary Committee; and generally being a big cry-baby about this whole convoluted mess."
According to Ali MacGraw, love means never having to say you're sorry.
According to James Aki, politics means never having to say you're sorry, even when you certainly should be.