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President Gerald R. Ford, the only American to serve as both vice president and president without ever being elected to either office, was born 100 years ago Sunday.

Ford will be remembered for his role in the turbulent post-Watergate era. But a little-known story from his college days might also serve to define Ford's character.

The Gerald Ford We Know

In 1973, Ford was a congressman from Grand Rapids, Mich., who had risen through the ranks to become House minority leader. In those days before C-SPAN, Ford was barely known to most Americans.

But that all changed in December of that year, when President Richard Nixon selected him to replace Spiro Agnew as vice president because of Agnew's bribery scandal. By the following August, Nixon was out, and Ford inherited the Oval Office.

The Picture Show

Presidential Access: Unguarded Moments, Captured On Film

You've probably never heard of Alan Rosenthal, but few people have done more over the past half-century not only to describe state governments, but redefine how they operate.

Rosenthal, a longtime political scientist at Rutgers University and a giant in his field, died Wednesday at age 81, after battling cancer. He wrote nearly 20 books, but his value was not purely academic.

Rosenthal was at the vanguard of a movement in the 1960s and 1970s that sought to modernize state legislatures. They had been backwater institutions that not only failed to keep up with the times but had no hope of matching the power and expertise of governors and the executive branch.

"He had more influence nationally over state legislatures and their operations in the last 40 or 45 years than anybody else in the country," Bill Pound, the executive director of the National Conference of State Legislatures (NCSL), told the Newark Star-Ledger. "There's no question about it."

As the longtime director of the Eagleton Institute of Politics at Rutgers, Rosenthal conducted a series of studies into the operations of individual state governments. The studies not only diagnosed the problems but offered tailored blueprints for institutional change, among other things guiding states to switch to annual sessions and hire more staff to bring greater knowledge to important matters, particularly the budget.

He helped reorganize about three dozen legislatures, as well as helping lay the groundwork for NCSL, the professional association that offers services to legislatures and speaks for them in Washington.

"He was one of the people trying to take a 19th century institution and pull it kicking and screaming into the 20th," says Gary Moncrief, a political scientist at Boise State University.

Rosenthal had unusual political clout for an academic. He advised numerous legislative leaders over the years, particularly in New Jersey. Serving as the tie-breaking vote in the Garden State's legislative or congressional redistricting commissions over the past three decades, he was occasionally referred to as the most powerful person in the state.

In his books, Rosenthal sought to portray reality as he found it through constant field visits to capitols. He was witty and occasionally profane in his assessments of legislative behavior, but he never grew cynical about representative democracy. Instead, he remained vigilantly realistic.

He was unhappy about term limits and high rates of turnover, believing that experience mattered, even if its value wasn't always appreciated by the public or the media.

"Alan understood and appreciated the potential of the legislative institution," Moncrief says. "I think he felt it rarely lived up to its potential, but he really appreciated the goal, the ideal legislature."

Legislating wasn't pretty, and it was necessarily charged with conflict; but it could be done right. In his later years, he chaired New Jersey's Joint Legislative Committee on Ethical Standards.

Although legislators learn over the years on the job, he recognized that, despite the many seminars he offered, they didn't have much time to engage in formal training.

"Legislators are into so many other things," he told me in 2010. "Serving their constituencies, running a campaign that never ends, doing lawmaking, wondering how they can get ahead, trying to find a little time with their families, trying to earn a decent living on the outside. Anything else is squeezed in."

Rosenthal managed to squeeze in a lot himself. He was old-fashioned enough to write out his books in longhand on legal pads, but he'd also performed as a circus clown and served as a one-time beauty pageant judge and a Cold War spy for the Army.

What Rosenthal wrote proved not only accessible to undergraduates but actually useful to countless legislative leaders. Mostly, he wrote about legislatures, but his last book, The Best Job in Politics, offered a rich portrayal of how contemporary governors operate.

He joked about feeling disloyal at the end of his long career in writing about governors, but he was unblinking in his assessment about who held the upper hand. "If you're a legislator and you look at the governor, he's calling the shots, whoever he is," Rosenthal told a group of legislators who were gathered last year at NCSL's annual meeting.

"He was simply the towering figure in the study of state legislatures," says Thad Kousser of the University of California, San Diego, "not only for his 40 years of scholarship that never lost steam, but also by the way he brought lawmakers together with academics to enrich the perspectives of both."

At the end of another demoralizing and unproductive Washington week, it struck us that the messaging of failure is a very delicate business — for members of both flailing parties.

New York Democratic Sen. Chuck Schumer's straight-faced characterization of the House GOP's rejection of his immigration bill as "encouraging" best illustrated the problem.

For nothing was hopeful and nobody was a winner in the nation's capital this week.

Certainly not Schumer, who emerged from a White House meeting on immigration Thursday to utter this mind-boggling assessment: "If I had to choose a word for yesterday's House meeting, it would be 'encouraging.' "

It was also a bad week for Republicans, who may be reflecting the reality of their base by pushing back on an immigration overhaul that includes a path to citizenship, but who are increasingly seen by the nation's voters as responsible for Washington gridlock.

Cut 'Extraneous' Food Aid

Republicans this week also managed to write out of the farm bill the food stamp nutrition program used by 15 percent of Americans.

The move, certain to be squelched by the Senate, is largely symbolic. GOP messaging seemed a bit awkward: "What we have carefully done is exclude some extraneous pieces," said Rep. Pete Sessions, R-Texas, about taking the food program out of the farm bill.

Voters may be forgiven, however, for finding their "who-to-blame" calculation more complicated this week, especially after a filibuster rules snit-fest Thursday morning on the Senate floor involving Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid, D-Nev., and Minority Leader Mitch McConnell, R-Ky.

A taste:

Reid: "Senator McConnell broke his word. The Republican leader has failed to live up to his commitments. He's failed to do what he said he would do — move nominations by regular order except in extraordinary circumstances. I refuse to unilaterally surrender my right to respond to this breach of faith."

McConnell: "No majority leader wants written on his tombstone that he presided over the end of the Senate. Well, if this majority leader caves to the fringes and lets this happen, I'm afraid that's exactly what they'll write."

Reid: "If anyone thinks since the first of the year that the norms and traditions of the Senate have been followed by the Republican leader, they're living in Gaga Land."

Scientists and lawyers are scheduled to debate the safety of certain "BPA-free" plastics this week in a U.S. District Court in Austin, Texas.

At issue is whether a line of plastic resins marketed by Eastman Chemical contains chemicals that can act like the hormone estrogen, and perhaps cause health problems.

The court battle has attracted attention because the Eastman resins, sold under the name "Tritan," have been marketed as an alternative to plastics that contain an additive called BPA. BPA has been shown to act a bit like estrogen, though it's not clear whether people are affected by the small amounts that come from plastic water bottles or food containers.

Eastman has sued two small companies based in Austin, Texas that published a study showing that a wide range of plastic products exhibit what's known as estrogenic activity. Some of the products were made from Eastman's Tritan.

Eastman's suit says PlastiPure and CertiChem, have made false or misleading statements about Tritan in marketing their own services. CertiChem tests plastic products for estrogenic activity. PlastiPure, a sister company, helps manufacturers make plastic products with no estrogenic activity.

Both companies were founded by George Bittner, a professor at the University of Texas at Austin and an author of the study that found estrogenic activity in most plastics. The study included tests of plastic products that had been subjected to heat, wear, and radiation intended to mimic exposure to sunlight.

"We certainly thought the results were not going to be greeted with favor by at least some plastic manufacturers," Bittner says. But, he says, "by bringing suit, Eastman Chemical has effectively put its Tritan product on trial."

Eastman Chemical wouldn't comment for this story. But in an interview last year, Lucian Boldea, a vice president of the company, said Bittner's study used a screening test for estrogenic activity that is known to produce false positives.

"To misrepresent a screening test as conclusive evidence is what we have the issue with," he said.

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