You were right,” said my friend K.C. when I ran into him on a warm spring day at the John and Mary Pappajohn Sculpture Park.

“I am?” I said, somewhat stunned. K.C. rarely gives me credit for anything.

“Did Terry Branstad announce he’s not running in 2018?” I asked?

“No, Governor Thunderbolt hasn’t walked that plank yet,” K.C. said. (Thunderbolt is what K.C. calls Branstad. I’m not sure why; something about petulant behavior and imaginary super heroes.) 

“But,” he added, “you’re probably right about that, too, which would make you what – two for ten this year?”

“What’s the other one I got right?” I asked.

“The Iowa Legislature,” K.C. said. “You said they wouldn’t do anything this year, and you hit that one on the nose.”

“I appreciate the praise,” I said, “but aren’t you a little premature? Technically, the Legislature is still in session. I think I saw that they might not go home until the end of May.”

“It’s going to take them at least that long to figure out how little money they can give Iowa schools next year and still keep them open,” K.C. said. “The way Thunderbolt and House Republicans are acting, they’ll be lucky to scrape together enough to pay the light bill.”

“They did accomplish one thing this year,” I offered. “They raised the gas tax. That’s something.” 

“It’s something all right. Something they should have done a decade ago,” K.C. said. 

“If you ask me, it was a big disappointment,” he said, “because they began by talking about all the creative ways they could tap into future transportation sources, including electric cars, or how they could tie the tax to road use and inflation. 

“In the end, all they did was bump up the tax by 10 cents a gallon. That’s not enough to repair all the potholes in Des Moines, let alone all the highways and bridges in Iowa that need work,” K.C. said.

“Plus, Thunderbolt wants to use a chunk of it to buy right of way to widen Highway 20 in northwest Iowa,” he said. “If you ask me, he should have done that when he was governor the first time, because there are fewer people in those counties today than there was back then.” 

I checked later and he was right. There are 16 percent fewer people today than in 1990 in Calhoun, Sac and Ida counties, the area where most of the Highway 20 widening will occur.

“The only people who drive that stretch of Highway 20 regularly are presidential candidates on their way to northwest Iowa,” K.C. said. “If Thunderbolt wants it widened, let the political action committees pay for it.”

“You know what else lawmakers didn’t do this year?” K.C. said. 

“I’m afraid to ask,” I said.

“They didn’t do anything to help cities, which are really hurting for money,” he said.

“I know,” I said. “I wrote a column two years ago about how cities like Des Moines are at the end of their financial rope because of all the mandates imposed by the state without any way to pay for them.”

“It’s so bad,” K.C. said, “that the city of Clinton wants to use some of its share of the higher gas tax to pay employees in its street department. Of course, Thunderbolt says that would be illegal, which might be right. But what other choice does the state give cities?

“Now, they don’t even want them to use speed cameras on freeways because the Department of Transportation doesn’t like the idea of using speed cameras to raise money,” he said. 

“It would be funny, if it wasn’t so sad,” I said. “I suppose that’s why the city of Des Moines wants to raise rates at its parking ramps.”

“Bingo,” K.C. said as he headed west on Locust Street.