The governor has suggested spending Legacy funds on a football stadium. Makes sense. The special money is supposed to go for the environment; the stadium would, technically, be located in the environment.
Legacy money also goes for arts, and there's a certain "performance art" aspect to football. It's ballet with concussions. Theater requires suspension of disbelief; so does every new Vikings season.
But many Minnesotans heard the proposal and thought: We knew this would happen. Approve a special sales tax for arts and nature, and the next thing you know it's spent for something completely different, like a campaign to reduce cynical attitudes toward government.
The Legacy tax -- a strange levy that benefits both fish and poets -- has been in the news for other reasons. Minnesota Public Radio reported that three years after the measure was passed, there's no big public list that says what they're doing with the money -- and a quarter of the $456 million isn't accounted for on the project's website. No one's alleging fraud; maybe it fell down between the cushions.
But there's also the matter of whether the funded work was actually done, and whether it's any good. You won't find that on the website. It scrolls on and on for pages and pages, and you wonder why we have a fireplug gushing money for interpretative dance when the rest of the state has the cold dry hand of Austerity wrapped around its windpipe.
Let's take a look at some Hennepin County grants:
• Lots and lots of oral histories, possibly including an oral history of oral historians.
These are easy to scoff at, but oral histories help assemble the stories that would otherwise be lost. I just worry that an "oral history" from such a closed-mouth people as Minnesotans consists of lots of dead space on the tape, as the subject struggles to overcome his inbred hesitancy to talk about himself. Perhaps they buy lots of Sodium Pentothal.