Our brand: Shame

Corporations often work for decades to develop and support a brand consumers will identify. Other times, growth happens with something as simple as a clever ad or slogan.

A recent survey says Las Vegas is the No. 2 brand in the United States, second only to the Internet search engine Google. It seems just a matter of time before Las Vegas crosses that monstrous threshold from recognized brand to verb. (Vegas -- v. to leave the drudgery of daily life in pursuit of fleeting excitement.) If what happens here is recognized nationally just behind Google, then our staying power would seem a given.

But for the Nevada Legislature, our brand identity isn't good times -- it's crisis.

Pick a topic -- education, transportation, health care, housing, crime, the environment -- and we rival the most notable backwaters. Perhaps we should start ranking ourselves against easier competition -- say Central America.

Once again the Legislature is running into trouble trying to plug the leaks. With two weeks to go in this year's regular session, maybe lawmakers will find $20 million for transitional housing. Maybe the Assembly Democrats and Senate Republicans will agree to toss $100 million into a combination of education reforms. Perhaps they can agree to another chunk of cash to chip away at the eight-year highway construction funding shortfall.

That would require acts of compromise unseen in Carson City in almost a decade. And it would do practically nothing to improve child welfare or protect the state from the growing unfunded liabilities of its public employee retirement benefits.

And even if Republican Gov. Jim Gibbons successfully protects his "no new taxes" brand by shuffling revenue, the state will keep chugging along like a hamster in a wheel. It would be nice to shower attention and resources on some best practices (Nevada Cancer Institute, the Lou Ruvo Brain Institute and Three Square). But there are too many "worst of the worst" that also require scraps from the state budget table.

It's already too late in this year's session for lawmakers to make any substantial impact in any of the state's major needs.

On Monday, Democratic lawmakers were all in a dither over the prospects of political payback, thanks to an unflattering audit of the state college savings program run by former treasurer and current Lt. Gov. Brian Krolicki. The audit proved a sweet diversion from lawmakers' real work because Krolicki is a heartbeat away from the office held by scandal-ridden Gibbons.

The other parlor game in the Legislative Building on Monday involved trying to figure out how long a special session might last. The will-go/won't-go prop bet already seems settled with less than two weeks to go before the June 4 adjournment. I'll be optimistic and take "under five days."

One lobbyist with an ear to the odds puts the consensus at three days. Sounds about right.

Lawmakers love to decry the unintended consequences of ballot measures. They'll probably trot out Education First, the voter-approved constitutional amendment that requires lawmakers to pass the public schools budget before any other spending measure, as the scapegoat if a special session is required.

But it seems like they'll have no problem asking voters to solve the highway funding shortfall, even if doing so leads to another year of inaction and billions of dollars in added costs.

One retiree from Oregon recently bemoaned the boom in mining. He asked me how mining companies can haul so much out without paying more in.

Maybe cause they're out there in "No New Taxes" Gibbons Country.

Let's face it, the state could hit the easy targets and raise taxes and throw more money at everything. And at the end of the day we might see slight gains in some rankings, even as our education system continues to fail our most vulnerable residents.

We've gotten pretty good in Clark County about issuing air quality warnings when the wind kicks up trouble for kids or seniors with breathing problems. Maybe we should start issuing a general quality-of-life warning. "Moving to Nevada right now may have negative impacts on your family's health and welfare." That ought to sum it up.

If only we could brand the deficiencies, we might be able to use them for something. Maybe we could attract service-minded volunteers from other states. Peace Corps, anyone? After all, water is readily available, and even mostly safe to drink. And who wouldn't want to build houses or teach English in a place whose official brand is excitement?

After a few months toiling for our growing needs, volunteers may opt for a more optimistic assignment -- and along the way coin a secondary definition of the verb "Vegas."

It might read like this: "To fail despite outward good appearances and perceived chances for success."

Erin Neff's column runs Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday. She can be reached at (702) 387-2906 or by e-mail at eneff@reviewjournal.com.