Boring Bruce Woodbury lacked wrong stuff to be County Commission star

Now that it's official and Clark County Commissioner Bruce Woodbury will be leaving office after what only seemed like a century of public service, I'd like to take a moment to kick him in the shin.

Make that both shins.

What did this mild-mannered fellow ever do to me?

What grave sin did he commit against the 50-cent newspaper columnist that Woodbury deserves to be vilified as he enters the home stretch of his marathon local political career?

Others in the ink-stained asylum have exhausted their thesauruses in an effort to praise Woodbury. Purple prose flows like cheap Chianti from the sodden pens of important political observers. And here I want to bury him. Why?

Because Bruce Woodbury is a terrible disappointment, that's why. And when I say terrible, I mean he's one of the worst commissioners I've ever watched in action.

For one thing, Woodbury was never indicted for political corruption by a federal grand jury. Not once. This is simply unacceptable in Clark County.

Woodbury wasn't even a lowly unindicted co-conspirator, the county equivalent of the junior varsity team. What a piker.

Bruce Woodbury is so square he couldn't be trusted to drive Erin Kenny's get-away car.

Kenny, now there's a commissioner who gave her supporters their money's worth. Kenny was a one-woman "Deal or No Deal" show who had a world of political potential in Nevada until the day the FBI overheard her grafting with strip club mogul Michael Galardi and some important local developers. She provided such good copy for the Review-Journal that our editors ought to send her a monthly stipend in federal prison as a thank you.

There's Kenny's fellow partners in crime, ex-Commissioners Lance Malone, Dario Herrera, and Mary Kincaid-Chauncey. They were all team players on the field of personal gain. Unlike Woodbury, who provided so little sizzle during his tenure I can't recall scribbling a single quote from his defense lawyer, Kenny and The Three Slushketeers filled many a slow news day with tales of avarice, greed, and intriguing uses for Crown Royal bags.

Let's not forget strangely absent former Commissioner Yvonne Atkinson Gates and state-charged ex-Commissioner Lynette Boggs. They helped a lowly scribe meet his deadline with something fit for the news consumer's discerning pallet. Gates saw fit to slip her son $407,000 in campaign funds in the name of political advice and advertising. Boggs was nailed living outside her district and allegedly paying a nanny with campaign cash.

Those ladies and gentlemen had what I call genuine political futures in the Silver State. But not Bruce Woodbury: I swear that man is a slow learner.

What did Woodbury do when he ought to have been out making a name for himself in the police blotter or trading his seat on the commission for higher office?

Not a lot, really.

There was that time back in 1985 that he played peacemaker and ended a legal and political war between city and county officials. That's Woodbury for you -- always getting in the way of a good story.

And there was his 25-year effort to improve flood control in the valley. Down at the county they call him the "father of flood control." He fathered flood control -- and not even out of wedlock.

That's almost as boring as being the guy who proposed and then pushed through funding for the highway that lassoes the valley and provides a key piece of Southern Nevada's complex transportation puzzle. It figures they would call it the Bruce Woodbury Beltway. Boring Bruce's Beltway has a snappier ring to it, if you ask me.

Although the valley still has some dirty air, Woodbury pressed for the county's Clean Air Action Plan and served as the first chairman of the Clark County Air Quality Management Board.

And although the words "planning" and "Clark County" are sometimes considered mutually exclusive terms, Woodbury served as the first chairman of the Southern Nevada Regional Planning Coalition. He's been part of various task forces and committees that have studied the effects of growth for a couple decades.

In all that time I haven't found one good slice of scandal to pin to his lapel.

If Bruce Woodbury hasn't learned the game after more than 27 years in public office, then I say it's a good thing he's retiring.

He's bad for my business.

John L. Smith's column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. E-mail him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call (702) 383-0295.