“Don’t you love the irony?” said a voice behind me.

My old friend K.C. was walking west on Grand Avenue when we met in front of Terrace Hill. 

“What irony?” I asked. “If you mean the mess that Sally Mason made at AIB, I don’t think that qualifies as irony.”

“No,” agreed K.C. “That’s more of a disaster. Talk about a bull in a china shop. She pretty much went in there and gored everyone in sight. 

“One day they announce a deal to give AIB’s Des Moines campus to the University of Iowa and say the students and staff have nothing to worry about. And less than a week later, they start walking it all back, leaving a lot of the students and much of the faculty up a creek without a paddle.

“I haven’t seen that much backpedaling since Lloyd Ward was the CEO of Maytag,” he said.

“The irony I’m talking about,” K.C. continued, “is Governor Thunderbolt.” (Thunderbolt is what K.C. calls Gov. Terry Branstad. 

I’m not sure exactly why; something about childish behavior and petulant superheroes.)

“Explain?” I said.

“Well,” he said, “you know what a big supporter Thunderbolt is of laws to prevent bullying in schools?”

“Yes,” I said. “He’s very adamant. It probably goes back to when he was in school. I’m guessing other kids made fun of him. I know that when he was at the University of Iowa in the 1960s, he was very conservative and was odd man out on that liberal campus. The anti-war crowd called him names that weren’t very nice.  

“Anyway,” I said, “I think it’s admirable that he wants to protect young, vulnerable children.”

“I agree,” said K.C. “It’s just too bad that he doesn’t apply that standard more broadly.”

“Well, he can be a bit nasty on the campaign trail,” I said. “He’s a real master of the half lie. Even uses it when he doesn’t need to. Like last year, when he ran against Jack Hatch.”

“All politicians do that,” K.C. said. “At least the successful ones do. That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the way he bullies state employees. He’s developed a mean streak that wasn’t there when he was governor before during the 1980s and ‘90s.” 

“Give me an example,” I said.

“The state troopers who drive him around,” K.C. said. “Thunderbolt was always pushing them to speed, until he got caught. Then, the governor wouldn’t even own up to the problem. He let his driver take the fall and got rid of the DCI agent who turned him in.  

“Then there’s the state home for girls in Toledo. A lot of people were trying to fix some long-standing problems there until Thunderbolt butted in and shut it down. He didn’t solve anything. Just kicked the problem down the road. 

“Now, he’s doing the same thing with the state mental health facilities in Clarinda and Mount Pleasant. He’s going to shut them down without any real plan to care for the people they serve. 

“It shouldn’t surprise anyone,” K.C. added. “He’s already shown by his refusal to enforce nursing home regulations that he doesn’t care about old people or the less fortunate.” 

“OK,” I said. “I’m beginning to see the pattern: a bully who wants to stop others from bullying. That is ironic.”

A sly grin flashed across K.C.’s face.

“I had this dream a few weeks ago,” he said, “that Thunderbolt had to be hospitalized for the flu and they sent him to one of those unregulated nursing homes that he’s always protecting.”

“That would be ironic,” I said.

“Nope,” said K.C as he turned to leave. “That would be justice.”