Did a Jelly Donut Cost Us $400 Million?

My hands are chapped from wringing, my thoughts disheveled. You see, we’ve just lost $400 million and don’t know where to find it. Luckily, it was only money, nothing really important.
My first hint that something was awry, that such a tidy sum went missing, came in the form of an email from the New Jersey Education Association. It stated that because somebody goofed with the application up in Trenton while applying for that snazzy “Race to the Top,” federal grant program, we’re going to suffer repercussions for eons.
Of course, the governor was chided by the teachers’ association for the grant loss. It is common knowledge there is no love lost between Gov. Christie and the NJEA, but that’s another story. He and the good folks who teach our children in public schools likely won’t be exchanging Christmas cards this year. Let’s just call it, “No Grant Left Behind,” and leave it alone.
While everyone else is whining about the loss of those dollars, and by a measly three points (almost like a championship basketball game being lost in the last second with a swoosh of the net), maybe it is a blessing in disguise.
Once upon a long time ago, it dawned upon me, “Hey, there is no such thing as a free lunch.” There is no such thing as free money, especially from Uncle Sam. Money isn’t like rain that is transformed from the ocean, purified as it turns into vapor drawn upward by the sun and returned to the earth as rain. Money has to come from somewhere. In the case of the federal government (I hate to break this to you in such harsh terms) that money is our tax money from last April 15.
Okay, understood. There is federal cash over in that corner, and there are 10 top prizes for some of that loot, sort of like one of those contests you enter and never win.
In order to qualify, states had to, literally, jump through hoops backwards to prove worthiness for that “Race to the Top” dough. Someone, and no one will ever fess up, probably was in charge of filling out the voluminous application for the educational gold.
Being an average disgruntled Garden State employee, they likely were eating a jelly donut when some blueberry filling flopped out on their desk just at the moment they were about to fill in the line that wanted budget figures from a year or so ago.
They probably uttered a nasty phrase that I don’t want my granddaughter to hear. Then, at that all-important split second, between blueberry filling spilling and cleaning it up, the boss called on the intercom and wanted to know where staples are kept since they changed the office supply cabinet.
Let’s be realistic, that is New Jersey the way it is. Sidetracked at that all-important moment in history, the dutiful state worker , enjoying what was left of the jelly donut, returned to the task of filling in the missing blanks for $400 million. Then the phone rang, and it was Gloria from purchasing wondering if the new computer cords were the right ones, because UPS just dropped off a backorder, and no one could remember who wanted them.
Like Paul Revere’s ride, the fate, not of the nation but of Garden State education, was resting upon that one application. Right then, the lady from the next cubicle stopped by, she just got back from seeing her new grandson in Dallas, and she wanted to show some pictures of the new baby.
Well, nothing is more important than photos of a new baby, especially when you work next to that person. So, the $400 million application got put on hold for a minute or two.
Thoughts were filled for the next half hour of new babies and memories of those happy times so long ago. Yeah, that $400 million application can wait a couple more minutes, even though the boss wanted it first thing in the morning, and here it was 3:30 p.m.
Meanwhile, the governor and the commissioner were hashing over the figures. That’s what life’s all about in Trenton, figures, good, bad and ugly. Today, most are ugly. Where was the application for the “Race to the Top” grant? Both guys looked at each other. “I thought your office was filling it out.” “No, I thought your office was filling it out.” Both got red in the face and uttered things granddaughters ought not hear.
Then, as only it could happen in our beloved state, the application finally got completed, but, sad to say, with the wrong figures. Oh, heck! Once it got to Washington, and the number crunchers got hold of it. Well, let’s say, the best thing that could have happened to it was a shredder.
Like standing at the ferry terminal, and missing the last boat out, when the tally was finalized, good old New Jersey was planted firmly three points behind Ohio. Who can we blame?
I investigated to see if partisan politics might have slipped into play when points were being chalked up. Remember, this is federal money and we know who rules the roost in D.C. For the record, five states with Democrats for governors got “Race” grant loot, and four with Republican governors got some. I couldn’t gauge the District of Columbia, since it has no governor, only a mayor. Oh well, it’s all academic from this point.
The teachers’ association blamed the governor for being a schmuck and meddling with something that he shouldn’t have. They said it was all worked out until it went astray in his office. Come on, how can anybody blame a guy who presses the flesh at the Court House Diner on a Monday night? Here’s the guy we elected to wield the hatchet, and he’s doing the dirty job we elected him to do. Give a guy a little credit, so we lost $400 million, there’s more where that came from.
We all know the federal government never gives away anything without a million strings attached. Look at “No Child Left Behind,” what a heavy yoke that has proven to be, just ask any teacher or administrator, and that’s a federal program.
Let’s just say it was divine destiny that a certain jelly donut flopped when it did, and the $400 million went out the window. It will undoubtedly teach a lesson: Never eat a jelly donut while filling out a federal grant application.
The loot is gone with the wind. It’s for sure the teachers’ association and governor would only have argued needlessly over how to spend it. This way, both sides save money on holiday greeting cards, and some poor soul in the Buckeye State has a mountain of paperwork to complete to justify spending $400 million. Just hope they don’t like jelly donuts in Ohio.