Whether killed by its creator or pocketed and forgotten by the agency that never wanted it, the Legislature's early catch-and-release muskie season will neither open in May 2009 nor appear in Wisconsin's fishing regulations.

You'll recall this still-born season was created by Rep. Dan Meyer (R-Eagle River) in hopes of luring more anglers northward for general fishing openers. Confident he had strong support back home, Meyer conceived the special three-week season — which would have preceded the traditional muskie opener — by quietly amending the state budget in Madison.
Unfortunately for him, the day came when constituents outside his circle of friends heard about it.

They weren't grateful. Roughly 75 percent of them pondered how he would look straddling a rail and sprouting tar and feathers.

Still, Meyer stood firm as anglers near and far trashed him winter through spring. And to ensure he got the message, they buried two versions of his season at statewide fish and wildlife hearings April 14. The rejections were by 64-36 and 75-25 percentages statewide and 73-27 and 86-14 in Vilas and Oneida counties, Meyer's district.

Even so, heading into the fishing season's second weekend 25 days later, Meyer remained confident that time and short attention spans would heal the wound. Like the Black Knight in Monty Python's "Search for the Holy Grail," he fought on without arms or legs.

But three days later, Meyer retreated, promising to kill the season when the Legislature reconvenes in January. His May 12 press release read: "My job is to represent what the people want, and in this case it appears that passage of this season (is not) what the majority wanted. We'll get it taken care of."

Suddenly Rep. Meyer looked more like Sir Robin, another Monty Python character. As the movie's minstrel sang:
Brave Sir Robin ran away.
Bravely ran away, away.
When danger reared its ugly head,
He bravely turned his tail and fled
Yes, brave Sir Robin turned about
And gallantly he chickened out.

Make no mistake. Meyer is smart to mop up the mess, but he didn't apologize or accept blame. His constituents deserve both. His voters hated his plan even more than those outside his district, which suggests he was out of touch.

Instead, he shifted blame. In a telephone interview, he said he used the budget amendment because Conservation Congress chieftains south of his region would never give the early season a fair hearing.

This North vs. South theme is tired. Even locals who favor an early catch-and-release season wanted to work with the Conservation Congress to craft a regional trial. Meyer's amendment short-circuited their plans.

Meyer also blamed "the governor's" Department of Natural Resources for not opposing his amendment and Gov. Doyle for not vetoing it.

Are we really supposed to blame the DNR and governor for not saving Meyer from himself?

Judging by the statewide furor Meyer created, a better criticism is that the DNR and governor foolishly missed an opportunity to play White Knight for muskie fishermen. The agency might deem a brief muskie season unworthy of executive action, but it mattered enough to District 34 voters to send a lawmaker scurrying.

By not accepting blame, Meyer allows voters to assume November's elections — not brave new faith in their collective wisdom — motivated his reversal. Granted, smart politicians don't leave themselves vulnerable to emotional issues, but neither do they think selfish interests inspire voters.

As such, there's no guarantee voters will re-elect Meyer to do the clean-up — or that fellow legislators will make it easy for him if he returns. Depending on the Legislature's makeup next winter, it could let him simmer in political humiliation.

Either way, Meyer's fate matters little. Given the votes at the spring hearing, and lacking further directions from lawmakers, his season is a fish without a tail.

The DNR can simply wave or wash its hands as Meyer's mess twists and turns and slides away into the Legislature's depths.