Garrigan
OK, technically he’s not in the cabinet, but it makes a good headline. The point is, Dave Cooley, Gov. Phil Bredesen’s No. 2, can’t seem to keep his head down. The guy is a political director with the title of deputy governor. He is to state government what former Sheriff Fate Thomas was to Bob Frensley’s car business before he died—that is to say, there to help lure traffic onto the car lot and not so much to close the sales. Cooley is a man with many gifts, but not necessarily the kind his taxpayer-funded job actually calls for.
In short, he’s a kingmaker on the metaphorical car lot.
In which case, we encourage Bredesen to call the deputy governor into his office and tell him—as Cooley himself is known for saying, channeling Larry the Cable Guy—“get yer stuff.” Cooley could then box up his honorary Tennessee Highway Patrol badge, his list of Bredesen political donors and his East Tennessee chili recipes and head over to 223 Eighth Avenue North, where the Bredesen reelection campaign is headquartered.
As if his transparent speeding ticket rank-pulling and his heavy-handed insinuation into the Tennessee Highway Patrol’s hyper-political promotion practices weren’t enough, Cooley now concedes that he called on state employees and others who serve in the Metro Council to lobby on behalf of a bill that would benefit his friend—and Bredesen campaign donor—Bobby Joslin. That wouldn’t seem so bad if he were the political director of the Bredesen reelect campaign. But, as it is, he’s the deputy governor, who enjoys broad management and oversight of state departments and employees. Those Metro Council members could have felt some obligation to vote in Joslin’s favor, solely because Cooley leaned on them.
Don’t get us wrong, it’s clear Cooley’s the best there is when it comes to politics. He’s taken Bredesen to every political victory the Yankee geek has ever had, and has launched the governor from a shy, obscure health care entrepreneur to a two-term mayor and now the South’s most powerful governor, someone with rising national credibility. Not bad for a country-talking Kingston boy not far into his 40s.
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But call a spade a spade. He’s a political guy more likely to be cruising the Web for Zogby polls and Roll Call than checking out the latest reports from the Brookings Institution or the Heritage Foundation. This is a guess, but we’d speculate that he’d sooner read a treatise by doctrinaire Democrat James Carville or a comic essay collection by redneck hero Jeff Foxworthy than be passing sleepless hours with the heady novels of Ayn Rand or philosopher William James’ Pragmatism.
Bredesen has always said that, in whatever role he pursues, he approaches the job as CEO and spends his time on those pursuits that only a CEO can. That would mean he needs a strong chief operating officer—a Bill Phillips to Bill Purcell, a Dick Cheney to George Bush. Cooley’s not exactly a fit. He’s not a sophisticated manager with broad public policy experience, which Bredesen or any CEO needs to run an organization effectively.
Perhaps when Commissioner Gerald Nicely gets done cleaning up the Safety Department of its jonboat junkies who count on politics instead of merit to bring home those sweet state paychecks and generous retirement packages, he could take the deputy governor job. It would suck for newspaper reporters, but it’d be great for state government. And, of course, come reelection time later this year, Bredesen’s political director could count another victory under his belt.