Red ink blues.

• Author: Johnson, Harold

Will bankruptcy force Orange County to act like Orange County?

Orange county. For the self-respecting liberal, the very name provokes a shudder. This sun-caressed Southern California expanse is, after all, the birthplace and final resting place of Richard Nixon. One of the few counties of any size, anywhere, to go for Goldwater. And the symbolic suburban heartland of Reaganism: Its voters, more than any others, helped propel the host of Death Valley Days to political stardom.

In America's political shorthand, the county's name has become a code phrase to describe a don't-mess-in-my-wallet mindset that admirers style libertarian, but sentinels of government deride as self-centered (as in, "How Orange County of you," said with a sneer).

Little wonder, then, that in the wake of Orange County's bankruptcy - the county is the largest government entity ever to enter Chapter 9 - much of the media has seized on the debacle to try to discredit what the county is supposed to represent. Reaganism's sins are being visited on its children, runs the line. We're told that dread '80s-style "excesses" were on display in the Nathan Detroit-like investment practices of County Treasurer Bob Citron - as if Gamblin' Bob maintained a hotline to Ron and Nancy's Bel Air digs. The fact that Citron was the lone Democrat to hold a countywide elective office gets reported, but isn't allowed to soften the sermon.

Derivatives, complex financial securities that Citron employed, are tagged as culprits as well, and media calls for regulation win an ear even in the newly ascendant House Republican caucus. As it happens, the real daredevilism in the Citron strategy wasn't the investment vehicles but the leveraging. The county and many of the scores of local jurisdictions that invested with it borrowed big time in an effort to enhance their winnings. They didn't need derivatives to bet on interest rates with borrowed money; they just happened to use them. No matter: In a lot of the reporting, that fact isn't allowed to divert attention from the alleged need to crack down on innovative financial instruments.

For many journalists, Mr. Citron's sins pale next to those of the real heavies: Orange County taxpayers. They're tightwads, you see - all me, me, me. It's because they weren't surrendering enough of their take-home loot to local government that dedicated public servants had to resort to financial risk to make ends meet.

Columnist James O. Goldsborough of the San Diego...