This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2008, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.
Attorney General Mark Shurtleff was done talking to KSL-TV reporter Debbie Dujanovic.
He was tired of her questions about $800 in Rolling Stones tickets and a flight to the Bahamas - both paid for by special interests.
"I have to accept your proposition that campaign contributions buy things for people," he said.
It's the politician's fakeout, a chest-thumping show of moral outrage. If Shurtleff says he isn't swayed by freebies, who are we to wonder otherwise?
But that's the wrong question to ask. Here's the right one: Why would payday lenders fly Utah's attorney general to a luxury resort to speak - "Is Greed Good?" was his topic - at their conference? If Shurtleff was a no-name estate-planning lawyer from Sandy, would his trip have been paid for?
The rest of us who still pay for our own Jazz tickets know the answer. But the people we elect live in another reality.
And Shurtleff has plenty of company in his dream world.
According to a Tribune report, Price Democratic Sen. Mike Dmitrich is first with his hand out, accepting nearly $7,000 in greens fees and trips and tickets.
"I guess ethics belongs to the individual," Dmitrich shrugs.
So many Utah politicians share the same philosophy.
Provo Republican Sen. Curt Bramble actually claimed that his recent trip to Philadelphia was like a workshop in telecommunications - financed by Comcast, of course.
Companies such as EnergySolutions, IHC, Zions Bank and Anheuser Busch have filled House Speaker Greg Curtis' campaign account and political action committee with $330,000. Curtis can use the money to curry favor with his colleagues, run for re-election or buy a Lake Powell house boat. His benefactors are hedging their bets.
This is the dark corner of lawmaking, where access is bought and sold with freebies and campaign donations cleaned up in a cheap dress and a swipe of red lipstick.
Last year, lobbyists and special interests doled out $279,000 in giveaways. The Moneybags gave another $827,000 in campaign donations, according to a Deseret Morning News analysis.
And Utah's toothless campaign finance and lobbyist disclosure rules allow the slap-and-tickle to go on - giving lawmakers and lobbyists a pass for gifts worth less than $50 and allowing legislators to spend their campaign cash however they choose. Clearfield Republican Rep. Curtis Oda bought $874 in new clothes for his wife, Nancy. West Jordan Republican Sen. Chris Buttars spent $2,500 in campaign funds fixing his car. Draper GOP Rep. Todd Kiser bought $59 in Halloween candy. How did he hold off All Hallow's Eve tricks before he was elected?
Utah lobbyists are just playing a game legislators created. How else can you explain League of Cities and Towns lobbyist Lincoln Shurtz' smug disclosure that he will list Hideout owner Mustang Development as his client, but he won't actually do any work for them? Guess he already did that last year when he pushed a ticking incorporation bill that gives a new meaning to "resort town" and could make him and Mustang rich. Shurtz would like us to believe he's being extra-vigilant on his disclosure form.
Near as I can tell, a single Utah politician has come clean: North Logan Republican Rep. Jack Draxler, a self-employed appraiser who accepted $235 in Utah State football tickets and paid himself $6,300 from campaign funds for lost wages while he's lawmaking in Salt Lake City.
"There are plenty of sacrifices," Draxler says. "You could call those football tickets - well, you could call them a perk."
At least he's honest.