This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2005, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.
As Centerville Republican Rep. Roger Barrus sat trapped once again in suffocating gridlock on Interstate 15 last weekend, his thoughts turned to Salt Lake City Mayor Rocky Anderson. They were not pleasant musings.
"He needs to keep his nose out of business that is not his," says the usually calm and soft-spoken Barrus. "He acts as if his personal position is more important than the will of the rest of the people."
Anderson is disliked by many state lawmakers who are upset about his aggressive opposition to Legacy Highway, a proposed 14-mile-long road that Davis County residents see as the answer to rush-hour traffic jams.
But Legacy is hardly the only fuel in this bonfire of spite. There also are Anderson's advocacy of relaxed liquor laws, higher environmental standards and diversity in public office.
Whether it's a veiled joke on the Senate floor or a direct attack in a House committee, legislators take just about every opportunity to voice their distaste for Anderson. "The man we love to hate," Sen. Curtis Bramble calls him.
But some see the annual bash-Rocky fest (otherwise known as the legislative session) as going beyond personal animosity. They fear Salt Lake City may get sideswiped as lawmakers take out their frustrations against the mayor.
"The Rocky Factor." It's a term used even by members of his own staff.
"Most legislators know that if there is a bill Rocky is pushing, it decreases its passage rate dramatically," concedes former Democratic Rep. Ty McCartney, who now works for Anderson as the head of the police-watchdog Civilian Review Board.
"I haven't seen any direct evidence of retaliation," insists Senate President John Valentine, who acknowledged "an undercurrent against Mayor Anderson" with Rocky jokes reaching an all-time high.
Anderson has noticed it, too.
"There is sort of a feeding frenzy and I get to be the chum," he says.
"I have never resorted to cheap personal attacks and yet it seems like a lot of legislators are spending a whole lot of time up there doing just that."
The latest "feeding frenzy" stems from fresh blood in the water from an old wound - Legacy Highway.
Anderson has been seen by Legacy supporters as the face of obstruction ever since he signed on as a plaintiff in the environmental lawsuit that halted construction on the highway four years ago. He has said he won't be party to any new complaints filed against Legacy. But he tore the scab off the old wound in his State of the City address just days before the legislative session began. He said he wants his "friends from the north" to commute to the capital city, but not to pollute the air, bloat the traffic or "make us sick."
Davis County residents and a number of legislators took offense and took it loudly. The public outcry caused the Salt Lake City Council to respond in writing.
"Simply put, it is Salt Lake City's long-standing policy to be inclusive of a diverse population. We WELCOME all people here," said the letter sent to Davis County officials and the Legislature.
On top of this, new estimates show Legacy Highway will cost an additional $217 million because of the court-ordered delay.
"Now there is a couple hundred million other reasons why some folks don't love his influence," Bramble said.
Salt Lake City Council member David Buhler, who is an advocate for higher education at the Legislature, said Anderson's Davis County comment equated to a "7.5 on the Richter scale."
"I have heard in the hallways that there is a desire to make him pay a price," Buhler said.
Salt Lake City's Capitol Hill problems don't rest solely on Anderson's shoulders. The city already has a significant disadvantage in that not one of its 11 legislators are members of the Republican majority. When crucial decisions are made in Republican caucuses, Salt Lake City doesn't have a seat at the table.
Nevertheless, there is no getting around the power of personality.
The Senate passed a bill Thursday that prohibits municipal governments from showing favoritism in awarding contracts to companies that pay their employees a "living wage."
The bill, sponsored by Sen. Howard Stephenson, R-Draper, obliterates Anderson's administrative rule giving companies an incentive to pay a wage that allows workers to support a family.
Another potential jab at Anderson could come in the Salt Palace expansion bill. The bill would require the city to turn over $1.5 million from its general fund each year for a decade to pay for the project, which studies indicate would provide most of its tax benefit bang beyond the city limits.
Salt Lake officials say they can't take such a hit without either raising taxes or cutting services.
Anderson wants the ability to tax restaurants around the Salt Palace, as they will directly benefit from larger convention crowds.
Sen. Michael Waddoups, R-Taylorsville, is sponsoring the Salt Palace bill and says he has "no personal issue" with Anderson. He proposed diverting the money collected from Salt Lake City's Innkeeper's tax because hotels also benefit from conventions.
"I hope Rocky Anderson's personality is not part of that decision," said City Council member Jill Remington-Love. But she fears it may be too late.
"I absolutely think Salt Lake City is being punished," she said. "Not just because we have a liberal mayor, or a city more liberal than the rest of the state. But punished probably more because of the personality of the mayor and his style."
Rep. David Cox, R-Lehi, calls Anderson "a loose cannon" whose influence doesn't "help Salt Lake."
Cox, who has not met Anderson personally, decries the mayor on any number of issues, including his support for gay marriage and loosening Utah's liquor laws.
"He so totally flies in the face of the values of Utah," said Cox. "Our quality of life here is directly related to the values we have and he is undermining those."
Cox also believes Salt Lake's mayor is anti-LDS. He points to Anderson's past statements about the religious makeup of the city council.
"He has a definite religious bias and is using his position to further that," said Cox, who, like an estimated 90 percent of his fellow Utah legislators, is a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Cox's comments infuriate Anderson, who said "It gets to the point of being personally cruel and hurtful."
"I find it extremely troubling that a person would accuse someone of essentially being a religious bigot because that person calls for a greater valuing of our community's diversity."
Anderson says he has never singled out LDS members, but has rather called for more diversity including religion, race and sexual orientation.
As for those who have a problem with his combative nature, Anderson says: "I wonder if they ever listen to themselves. I never stand up in public meetings and call people names."
Holladay Democrat Rep. Pat Jones believes animosity for Anderson may be a powerful political tool Republicans have seized upon as a way to unite their squabbling and sometimes fractious troops.
"In order to get things done," she said, "you must create an enemy."
A sampling of Rocky bashing
* "Stay as far away from Rocky as you can, and your career will last a little bit longer," Clearfield GOP Rep. Paul Ray told departing Democratic Rep. Ty McCartney, who resigned to work in Anderson's administration.
* "We in Washington County love to go after Rocky. We're 300 miles away. What's he going to do to us?" said Sen. Bill Hickman, R-St. George. "We like to drive up here and pollute his city and drive home. Those are great treats for us."
* "Old mayor broken clock opposes this legislation, so we should be supporting it," said Sen. Ed Mayne, D-West Valley City, noting that even a broken clock is right twice a day.