Happy Independence Day Iowa Legislature

Hey Iowans, light up a totally legal sparkler, the Iowa Legislature has finally adjourned. I heard it myself live on the interwebs' sound tubes.

I was sort of hoping for some last minute fireworks, like Sen. Kent Sorenson trying to attach a gay marriage ban to the sine die adjournment resolution, but all was very quiet and orderly. The Senate leaders were so eager to leave that they didn't even read their farewell speeches. They'll be published in the Senate Journal, which everybody reads anyway.

So who wins? Everybody. And who loses? Everybody. Half-loaves and bittersweet ales for everyone.

Gov. Terry Branstad proved that he can still confound a General Assembly, just like the old days, with surprise vetoes and moving budget targets and a quirky commitment to two-year budgets. Still, he comes out of this with a $5.99 billion budget that doesn't resort to trickery or tap one-time sources etc, as he promised. That's quite an accomplishment. He was elected to clean up this one horse Statehouse and he did.

"It is our responsibility, as servant-leaders, to pass a budget as honest, frugal and balanced as the people it serves," Branstsd said during his budget address in January.

"And, the time to do it is now," he said. Or June 30. Whatever works.

He also got his triple layer cake economic development partnership with three boards and several new acronyms and a Zeppelin laser light show. That's going to be super fun to play with, creating jobs and stuff.

But he did not get to cut the income tax rate for poor corporations shivering, standing around trash fires with fingerless gloves. Heartless lawmakers.

And there will be no property tax reform. Again. And again. You'd think bipartisan legislative control and big hunks of money in the bank might have made it possible for something really significant to happen. No dice.

Blame for all. If Democrats were really interested in this issue, the might have addressed it during the four years they ran the joint. And the credit they offered this time was not really reform. If Republicans really wanted reform, they would have dropped the phony fiscal crisis talk and figured out how to both cut taxes and cover local governments' revenue hole. Didn't happen.

Senate Democrats were able to save the preschool program for four-year olds, but couldn't get all of the education spending they sought. But most of their accomplishments are about what they stopped rather than what they passed. 

House Republicans were able to pass some big stuff they promised on the campaign trail, like tax cuts, abortion restrictions, the gay marriage amendment, etc. The Senate canned them all sure, but House Speaker Kraig Paulsen deserves some credit for keeping that big zany caucus of his in one piece.

Now, that big pile of surplus bucks Republicans' insisted doesn't exist that does exist will become an election year battleground. Spend it on the kids! Cut taxes! Invade Minnesota! Sky's the limit.

Maybe this session gets remembered for dead doves and drunk boaters. But its most far-reaching legacy may be that it put down the foundation for a reformed mental health treatment delivery system in this state. That's a big change, if lawmakers can make it happen from here.

Iowa's long-held faith in the merits of divided government took a beating. Iowans have repeatedly over the last few decades put different parties in charge of legislative chambers and the governor's office, hoping compromise would temper the parties' most extreme impulses. And for the most part, they've been right.

And they were right again, when it comes to curbing extremes and impulsiveness. But this was ugly, a marathon mudslinging bicker-fest that actually flirted with missing the state's budget deadline. That was a big risk, the governor's magic emergency powers notwithstanding.

Compromise did finally arrive, after 172 days. Third longest session ever. I hear. Phew.

These session-ending deals could have been done weeks ago, but the trenches were deep and leadership was scarce. And this is the odd-numbered year. The sensible year, when stuff is supposed to get done. Can you imagine that this atmosphere will improve next year with a high-stakes election looming? Not likely.

But this one's over. Careful with your sparklers.