This Texas Legislature was silly. Now it’s stinky. And nobody’s really helping Texans. | Opinion

God, oil and guns continue to rule Texas, and maybe not in that order.

Nothing about that was likely to change in this Legislature, and so far nothing has.

Schoolrooms probably will get the Ten Commandments, but not fewer guns. Gun laws are changing, but not the way 76% of Texans want. Literalist judges are actually going to let more 18-year-olds buy guns.

Meanwhile, Democrats and West Texas Republicans are barely holding the line against a school voucher plan that might dilute high school football. And the holier-than-thou Texas Senate isn’t tempted by gambling.

All this comes to an end May 29, but some of the rancor was gone by Thursday, the deadline for the House to pass its bills and send them to the Senate.

Amid laughter, jokes and what one lawmaker described as prank “stink bombs” on the floor, the House eased its way to midnight.

Finally, the night ended with a procedural move that averted a bitter debate over whether insurers should be required to cover gender-transition reversals.

Fellow Democrats cheered loudly as state Reps. Harold Dutton of Houston and Erin Zwiener of Austin shared the microphone to call a point of order.

“It is after midnight,” Dutton said. “I raise a point of order against further consideration of any bills.”

House Speaker Dade Phelan, a Beaumont Republican who’s a much-more relaxed leader in his second session at the helm, looked at his phone.

“It is midnight,” he said to cheers. “Your point of order is well-taken and is sustained.”

The orderly and mostly light-hearted night was a sharp contrast to past legislative sessions, when House debates became acrid and even menacing as Democrats mostly tried to run out the clock and thwart high-profile Republican bills.

But after 10 days of roller-coaster emotion, the Legislature just needed some sleep:

▪ On May 2, protesters filled the House chamber opposing a Senate bill to block minors from puberty blockers and hormone therapy. The gallery was cleared before the vote was eventually delayed.

▪ In an emotional and determined vote May 6, House members expelled a fellow representative for the first time in 96 years. Investigators declared that Royse City Republican Bryan Slaton plied a staff member, 19, with alcohol and had sex with her. It was even worse than it sounds.

▪ Hours later, five adults and three children were killed in a Collin County mass shooting that appears to be a racist terror attack against Asians and immigrants. Shooter Mauricio Garcia had a checkered past but a clean criminal record, so until he fired a shot, he was what Texas leaders call a “good guy with a gun.”

▪ Tuesday night and into early Wednesday, the House angrily debated and eventually passed to the Senate an amended bill creating a “Border Protection Unit” of commissioned law officers to detain anyone suspected of a violation.

▪ Wednesday night, the House worked past 10 p.m. stymieing efforts to pass a revised version of a school voucher plan. Rural Republicans have consistently side with Democrats against the plan because it might hurt small-town schools. It’ll come back after a committee hearing Monday.

So, you can understand why the House was all sleepy-silly Thursday for the first big deadline of the session.

Now the real rancor starts over hotly contested Senate bills until May 24, the last day for Senate bills to pass the House.

As midnight drew near Thursday, House Republican Caucus chairman Craig Goldman of Fort Worth was letting one of Phelan’s sons, Luke, wield the gavel.

At one point, with Phelan back at the rostrum, Democratic Rep. Toni Rose, the sweetheart of South Oak Cliff, came to the microphone.

She looked disgusted.

“Mr, Speaker,” she asked, “Do you think it’s appropriate for grown folks to walk around here and put stink bombs on the house floor?”

Laughter broke out as Phelan deferred the question,

“The chair is not advised,” he said, grinning.

The laughs grew louder.

“Well,” Rose replied, making a face and putting her hand to over her nose, “it’s my job to advise you that stink bombs are being placed on this House floor.”

The laughs grew even louder.

“Mrs. Rose, you always smell like a rose to us,” he replied. “So, we’re not going to accuse you of that.”

It all stinks.