CARSON CITY -- From afar, Nevada's citizen legislature is typically viewed as a quaint throwback to an era when politics was more civil because your neighbor -- or at the very least someone like you -- was sent to make the laws.

Elsewhere, when, say, an organic alfalfa farmer is elected, it's a national oddity and the rep becomes part media darling and part wave of the future.

Nevada's Legislature has an organic alfalfa farmer, some ranchers, teachers, doctors, Realtors, a firefighter, a Webmaster -- heck, we've even got a coffee shop waitress and the requisite bunch of attorneys.

We don't have full-time lawmakers, but they have plenty of big-time conflicts. And in Nevada's small political network, you could play "Six Degrees" from each lawmaker to just about anyone who matters -- and actor Kevin Bacon to boot. (Bacon was in "Mystic River," directed by Clint Eastwood, who starred in "Pink Cadillac," which was shot in Fuji Park in Carson City, where all 63 lawmakers work.)

The connections between lobbyists, agencies, lawmakers, the governor's office, local officials and big business come full circle every day.

"To say there are 63 conflicts is an understatement," said Mark Amodei, R-Carson City, and the president pro tem of the state Senate. "Everybody's got something. It's just now that the political stakes are higher that people are noticing."

Amodei is a poster child for potential conflict, but hardly more than a snapshot of the larger problem.

Nevada's Legislature has 21 members who either work as government employees or have close family who do. An additional 11 collect taxpayer-supported pensions from the Public Employees Retirement System.

Every public agency will appear before the Legislature's money committees, hands out, practically begging for additional resources. Additionally, Gov. Jim Gibbons has earmarked $50 million to begin payment on the unfunded liability in the health care benefits for retired state workers.

And half of our elected lawmakers have direct connections to that very way of life.

For the most part, lawmakers go with a blanket disclosure meant to distance themselves from public criticism. In the Assembly, where past years have seen almost half of the lower house have a direct tie to a public employee, the disclosure went something like this: "This won't affect me any more than anyone else, so I intend to vote on it."

Critics argue public employees have helped push the state's ever-growing budget to the brink.

Sen. Bob Beers, R-Las Vegas, has been one of the most consistent critics of a process whereby lawmakers have a hard time saying no to people on their own. He's also fond of saying "I don't hate all public employees" -- Beers is married to one.

Public employees and retirees receive their share of scrutiny from conservative watchdogs. Some believe dual service in the legislative and executive branches of government violates the Nevada Constitution's separation of powers clause.

The public employees, thanks to past scandal, now largely take leave of absence without pay during the session. Most of them also pay for their own health benefits and lose retirement benefits during the four-month session.

Then there's the firefighter. Assembly Majority Leader John Oceguera, D-Las Vegas, plans to take vacation leave for some of the days and work weekend shifts for the North Las Vegas Fire Department while lawmakers are in session 400 miles away.

But public employees comprise just one of several big conflict blocs. Influential lawmakers in both parties serve, or have relatives, on the boards of banks. Other legislative leaders have strong ties to trial attorneys, organized labor and the state's universities.

Even the alfalfa farmer, Assemblyman Ed Goedhart, R-Amargosa Valley, does business with Coast Casinos. And our waitress, Sen. Maggie Carlton, D-Las Vegas, is a shop steward in the Culinary union.

Sometimes a lawmaker's conflicts are hard to determine by looking at financial disclosure forms. Often a lawmaker will list "consultant" as a source of income without detailing for whom they consult.

In 2005, Sen. Barbara Cegavske, R-Las Vegas, disclosed she might have a conflict on a university budget issue because she worked as a consultant to one of Chancellor Jim Rogers' television stations. That same session, Sen. Sandra Tiffany, R-Henderson, proposed a bill related to the sale of surplus state goods even as her business selling other states' surplus goods was being scrutinized.

The ethics of the Cegavske case were rendered moot when she quit her consulting job. And last year, voters rendered Tiffany moot thanks to the ethics questions. But those are just two cases in which conflicts were fully vetted.

This session, with Republican control of the Senate a narrow 11-10, the potential for conflict-driven abstention on some measures has created a new parlor game of "What if?" for Democrats.

Amodei's law partners at Kummer Kaempfer Bonner Renshaw & Ferrario lobby a cabal of clients on numerous pressing state issues. Amodei intends to vote on most of them unless legislative lawyers advise him otherwise.

Sen. Terry Care, D-Las Vegas, has asked the Ethics Commission to determine whether he must abstain simply because his law partners at McDonald Carano & Wilson are lobbying on a bill.

Then there's Senate Majority Leader Bill Raggio, R-Reno. His law firm, Jones Vargas, is a huge player in the Legislature, and its partners/lobbyists are also his personal friends.

Raggio is the kind of lawmaker who will disclose, for example, that he received a Christmas gift of wine from a friend who happens to own Reno's Silver Legacy casino. But sometimes, when it suits him, he'll vote on a bill that his partners have actively advocated. Other times he abstains.

But being a shareholder of Jones Vargas is hardly Raggio's biggest potential conflict. He has to supply an attachment to the state's financial disclosure form because the five lines on the income section aren't big enough to list all of his sources. In addition to being an attorney, Raggio gets paid to be a lawmaker; receives a state pension for his service as Washoe County District Attorney; has income from rental properties, dividends and interest; and gets paid to serve on the boards of Archon Corp. and the E.L. Wiegand Foundation. He got rid of one conflict in 2006 when he stopped serving on the board of Sierra Health Services.

Sen. Randolph Townsend, R-Reno, is a former Lexus dealer who now owns a venture capital company and has 20 direct sources of family income through banks, investment and security firms and realty groups. His expertise makes him a perfect chairman for the Commerce and Labor Committee -- and a perfectly conflicted one on matters directly involving the banks he does business with or serves as a director.

You'll find when you look at each lawmaker, the biggest conflict doesn't necessarily come from their job.

In this citizen legislature, it's the citizens who don't truly have any advocates.

Erin Neff is a Review-Journal columnist. She can be reached at (702) 387-2906, or by e-mail at eneff@reviewjournal.com.