"Baby, you can crash my party anytime," Luke Bryan sang. Baby, did they ever.
Since the new Vikings stadium opened in August, dozens of friends of Ted Mondale, executive director of the Minnesota Sports Facilities Authority (MSFA), and Michele Kelm-Helgen, its chairwoman, filled the executive suites controlled by the organization, which oversees the stadium on behalf of taxpayers. There, they were apparently treated to dull marketing pitches while trying to ignore the racket from acts such as Bryan's band and Metallica.
Such is the life of the average political hack or labor leader, many of whom accepted the invitation to crash the Kelm-Helgen party box. The work just never ends.
Maybe, I'm not sure, Bryan sang one of his standards, "Apologize," the chorus of which goes, "I said it's too late to apologize," because even by then, it was.
If Bryan were to adapt that song to the current moral cues or crisis management trends, he would have to change the lyrics to, "I said it's too late to offer a non-apology, so I'll just deny wrongdoing while changing the rules, and that will restore the public trust, y'all."
Yee-haw!
When the story first broke that the MSFA used some of its 36 prime seats for family members and friends, along with a bunch of people actually thinking about doing business with the facility, Gov. Mark Dayton blamed the media for sensationalizing the issue. Maybe so. Maybe, as one reader pointed out, "there are more important things to worry about."
I completely agree. Like a president-elect whose business entanglements and conflicted cabinet appointments make the Mondale, Kelm-Helgen swagfest seem like the petty, Midwestern head-scratcher that it is. That said, I cannot recall an issue that so clearly polarized people into two camps: those who saw the perks as inappropriate, and those who saw the perks as wildly inappropriate.