Back when he first ran for governor as a self-styled outsider, Rick Scott lambasted his opponent in the Republican primary for taking campaign money from U.S. Sugar, one of the worst corporate polluters of the Everglades.
Scott indignantly squeaked that Bill McCollum had been "bought and paid for" by U.S. Sugar. He said the company's support of McCollum was "disgusting."
"I can't be bought," Scott declared.
Seriously, that's what the man said. Stop gagging and read on.
Four years later, the governor's re-election campaign is hungrily raking in money from U.S. Sugar, more than $534,000 so far. Exactly when Scott overcame his disgust isn't clear, but in February 2013 he and undisclosed others jetted to the King Ranch in Texas for a hog- and deer-hunting junket on U.S. Sugar's 30,000-acre lease.
Apparently this has become a secret tribal rite for some top Florida Republicans. Exposed last week by reporters Craig Pittman and Michael Van Sickler of the Tampa Bay Times, the politicians ran like jackrabbits for the hills.
All questions were redirected to the state Republican Party, which couldn't get its story straight. "Fundraising" wound up as the official explanation for the free pig-shooting sorties.
Scott refused to field questions about the King Ranch shindig. A spokesman said the governor covered his own air flight and hunting license.
Days later, a bit more information: Scott shot a buck deer on the trip, his flack said, and paid the taxidermist out of his own pocket. What a guy!
A month after his secret safari, the governor appointed an executive of King Ranch's Florida agricultural holdings to the board of the South Florida Water Management District, the agency supposedly supervising the Everglades cleanup.
The inner circle, you see, goes unbroken.
Agriculture Secretary Adam Putnam was so mortified to be asked about his King Ranch excursions that he slithered behind a door that was then shut in a reporter's face. Slick move. Putnam is the same social butterfly who once criticized the state law forbidding elected officeholders from accepting gifts like free trips, booze and meals. Putnam lamented that the ban was "a disincentive for fellowship."
Thwarting the statutory gift ban has been accomplished by letting the political parties operate as money launderers for special interests. U.S. Sugar, for example, gives tons of cash to the Republican Party of Florida, which then spreads it around to Scott, Putnam and other candidates for purported political expenses.
The King Ranch, which has its own sugar and cattle holdings in Florida, has also hosted GOP House Appropriations Chair Seth McKeel and Dean Cannon when he was House speaker. The current House Speaker, Will Weatherford, and the incoming speaker, Steve Crisafulli, have both received Texas hunting licenses, although they won't say if they've been to the King spread.
Florida has an abundance of deer and wild hogs, but an out-of-state safari offers the appeal of seclusion and anonymity. Interestingly, no Republican senators or Democratic leaders appear to have participated in the King Ranch flyouts. Former Gov. Charlie Crist, Scott's likely opponent in November, has taken contributions from Big Sugar, but said he's never been to the ranch.
Buying off politicians with hunting and fishing trips is an tradition in Tallahassee, interrupted by the occasional embarrassing headline followed by flaccid stabs at reform. Nobody believes the absurd GOP party line saying that the King Ranch hunting jaunts are "fundraisers." They're just free (or heavily discounted) vacations.
You really can't blame Big Sugar or its lobbyists. They know who and what they're dealing with; the only issue is the price. The company has given more than $2.2 million to Republican candidates in the 2014 election cycle, and there's no reason to believe it won't get its money's worth.
Taxpayers, not the sugar tycoons, remain stuck with most of the cost of cleaning up the Everglades. Every time someone tries to make the polluters pay a larger share, the idea gets snuffed in Tallahassee.
Meanwhile the politicians who could make it happen are partying in Texas with the polluters — shootin' at critters, smokin' cigars, sippin' bourbon around the fire. Hell, maybe there's even a steam bath.
These are the people controlling the fate of the Everglades. They've been bought and paid for, just like Rick Scott said four years ago. Now he's one of them. His staff won't say why he changed his mind about taking Big Sugar's money. It also won't say where he put the stuffed head of that buck he killed at the King Ranch. The bathroom wall would be a fitting place, hanging right over the toilet where he flushed his integrity.
© 2014 Miami Herald