By Nick Smith
Staff Writer
Posted: September 1, 2017 1:58 PM

As the fall session is set to start, the push begins to get significant policy proposals across the finish line before the end of the year and election-year activity kicks into high gear.

The flurry of fall activity will no doubt wear out even the most energetic of souls involved in the process.

One approach to avoid burnout I learned during my first legislative session in North Dakota is to keep it fun. One way to do it is watching for the inevitable quirky, bizarre niche pieces of legislation that are to be introduced.

Where did that take me?

Rather than getting bogged down too early covering gavel-to-gavel a thorny agency budget, I found myself in 2013 listening to debates stretching for half a day on why North Dakota should allow the sale of bottle rockets within the state.

You’d be surprised how many people will step to a podium to wax nostalgic over their childhood summer nights during Fourth of July weekends firing off bottle rockets, only to be countered by medical professionals displaying graphic pictures of eyeballs hideously damaged in accidents stemming from the tragic flight paths of errant rockets.

Instead of covering as many hearings on Medicaid expansion or abortion restrictions as I could have, I found myself covering the successful move to purchase the childhood home of Lawrence Welk to keep it operating as a state-owned tourist site.

I won’t lie: I had very little idea who he was initially prior to looking him up. I only recognized the name at the time because of a scene from the movie “American Beauty” when Kevin Spacey’s character, following a fight at the dinner table, complains about the dinner music playing in the background by saying “I’m tired of this Lawrence Welk s--t!”

My Capitol pressroom mentor from The Associated Press I’ll always remember for sniffing out stories on quirks around the building. One of his best was a story on how the House Appropriations Committee room smelled like body odor. Another was when a dress code for media appeared in the pressroom telling reporters not to wear items including bib overalls and tube tops. Neither is my style.

Earlier this year, prior to my move back to Michigan, the North Dakota Legislature was a little light on the quirky bills due to a budget crunch.

But it was entertaining to hear a lawmaker admit on the House floor during debate on an unsuccessful bill to go from having two license plates on motor vehicles to one that he not only didn’t put a front plate on his sports car for a long time but also had a sort of wink and nod comment about having a lead foot on the interstate.

Another time, after multiple incidents of freshman lawmakers had made awkward public or social media comments that drew fire, I was able to get my hands on a memo Republican leadership had provided their caucus, a sort of “how to talk to the media for dummies” kind of deal.

It’s an entirely new cast of characters here in Michigan, but I’m sure keeping an eye out for items to keep the daily routine from getting too mundane will bear fruit in time.