Our tax dollars at … uh …

Back when I was in the Air Force, politicking on the job was a capital crime.

In fact, I had to laugh at a comment made by our unit voting officer during the 1984 election season during a daily staff meeting with our general. He had just reminded us to be sure to register, and that he had applications for absentee ballots for anyone that needed them.

Which was all but one of us on the staff. But then my friend, trying to be funny, observed that "I take it we all know who [sic] to vote for." Now, it was true that as serving members of the armed forces, we all adored Ronald Reagan, then up for re-election. We'd all seen not only what he had done to rebuild the military after the malign neglect of the Jimmy Carter years, but also cheered the way he was actively opposing Soviet expansionism throughout the world -- again, in starkest contrast to his unlamented predecessor.

So I'd bet my life against your next paycheck that every last one of us on the staff of the 42nd Air Division voted for The Gipper, especially as his opponent was Walter Mondale, Carter's vice president. But it was not my friend's place to tell us anything but that he had what we needed to vote in our home states.

Even suggesting for whom we should vote could be seen, by anyone with a less well-developed sense of humor than we, as a violation of the Hatch Act. That's the federal law that limits political activities by government employees (including serving members of the military). Besides, it just looked and felt wrong; fortunately for him, we understood he was kidding.

What a difference a generation makes. Imagine my surprise to have received an e-mail Wednesday addressed to one of our elected federal legislators. The note, at first glance, would have appeared to fall under the individual's right to petition the government for redress of grievance, in accordance with Amendment 1 to the U.S. Constitution..

Except for three things.

First, the note contained to petition, nor any reasoned argument for or against anything It contained arguments, all right, but they were not reasoned: "Your appeal for my support would be funny if it were not so sleazy and pathetic … I find you sir to be a very offensive, greedy and self serving arrogant jerk who needs to be kicked out of office at the first available opportunity." There was more, but it was all in the same vein:

* "You are the most clueless individual I've ever come across …"

* "The corruption, incompetence and cronyism from the Republican party … have shamed and disgraced America in the eyes of the world."

* "I live and pray for that day [when you are replaced by a Democrat] to arrive at the earliest possible moment."

Given the individual who sent the note enumerated no policies in particular with which to take issue in offering an alternative -- but instead just a bunch of name-calling, as noted above-- I take it said individual concedes the logic and legitimacy of this elected official's policy positions. Those positions certainly did not incur any of the venom in the note, just the official personally, so they must be okay.

But that can't be the case, now, can it? Otherwise, why send the note in the first place?

Which question brings us to the second thing: if this was a note to an elected official, reflecting exercise of the right (however tenuous, based on the vilification therein as opposed to any specific requests for redress), how come we got it? "To the editor" is how it starts off. So I suppose it could be an open letter to the official.

Which is okay, but since the individual is from … well, a long way from where we are, why would such a person think we'd want to print it? We do print letters from people in the local area, or from wherever if they are in direct response to news stories we've written.

But neither of these two applies. So why'd we get it? There is no reason to think this letter came just to us along with the official, but you really can't tell who got a copy (no doubt due to the "blind copy" feature of the e-mail program being used). So it seems reasonable to conclude that "to the editor" means it went to many (even all) newspapers in the state.

That is, this letter aims to secure the defeat of the elected official, and replacement by the candidate from the opposing party. So it amounts to a campaign activity.

Which brings us to the third point. We cannot say to whom (in toto) this note went. But we know from the sender's address whence it came: the person's e-mail address includes as its domain "@missouri.edu." That's right: it came from the University of Missouri.

A state institution. From the university's e-mail server, certainly, and from a university computer in all likelihood.

Funded by our tax dollars.

At first, it seemed a violation of the Hatch Act, since federal funds go to almost all public education institutions. But Hatch does not cover folks who work for educational or research agencies, like Mizzou.

But Section 36.157 of the Revised Statutes of Missouri is another story. "An employee may not engage in political activity: (1) While on duty; (2) In any room or building occupied in the discharge of official duties; (3) By utilizing any state resources or facilities; (4) While wearing a uniform or official insignia identifying the office or position of the employee; or (5) When using any vehicle owned or leased by the state or any agency or instrumentality of the state," says http://www.moga.state.mo.us/statutes/C00....

Gotcha. So, my question is this: what made this person think a personal attack on an elected official, with an obvious political aim in mind, sent using state government resources, would scoot under the radar, and permit the sender to escape punishment?

Answer: since it went "To the editor" it tells me the individual understood, as I have been saying for longer than I can remember, that nearly all members of the media are liberal, support Democrats and other liberals, and oppose Republicans and other conservatives. The individual assumed the media, as fellow travelers, would cover up the violation of the law.

But we all know what happens when we assume, don't we?

Gary Exelby is the editor of the Daily Statesman. E-mail him at gexelby@dailystatesman.com and visit http:exelby.vnovus.com