On the morning of Election Day, when public officials might be expected to show a sense of pride and decorum, today's meeting of the Dallas County Commissioners Court once again resembled a VH-1 reality show. And, as you might have expected, Democrat John Wiley Price played a starring role implying that his Republican colleague Maurine Dickey was mentally challenged.

This latest barb, which drew an audible groan from the audience, came one week after Price referred to County Judge Jim Foster as "Judge Forrest Gump."

Earlier this morning, Price was peppering a county official on why a professional consulting firm angling to do business with the county only had one minority employee. Price, who has long been one of most powerful black leaders in Dallas, also wanted to know why this minority employee had an asterisk by his name. Like a student being called out in class by a stern, unforgiving teacher, the county employee stammered a bit. She told him she placed a phone call to the potential vendor asking for an explanation, but hadn't heard back.

As Price asked for answers, Dickey, a Republican who has formed an alliance of sorts with Democratic Judge Jim Foster, seethed. At a county meeting Monday last week, Price displayed a "Judge Forrest Gump" placard -- a clear slap of County Judge Jim Foster, who often seems lost when he's out in public. Price has stewed of late, because of Foster's penchant for siding with Republicans on key issues, including his recent vote to pull out of an inland port project in Price's district.

Price also doesn't suffer fools gladly, and Foster, an unknown who coasted into office off the strength of Democratic straight-ticket voting in 2006, is nobody's idea of a coherent politician.

As the Dallas Morning News has pointed out, the county judge still looks confused on the job. He struggles even with procedural formalities, including calling for motions. In the past, he has even meekly deferred to Price. Today, Foster barely spoke, and his face was about as red as a tomato. He looked ill.

In any case, as Price kept at the county official about the potential vendor's lack of diversity, Dickey interjected.

“This seems to be a bit of a double-standard in that we have someone who mocks the mentally challenged," she said.

Out of context, her comment made no sense, and so an awkward silence followed. When Dickey explained her "mentally challenged" remark stemmed from Price's "Forrest Gump" sign, Price shot back, "I thought we were talking about you."

A still-seething (horrified might actually be a better way to describe it) Dickey sarcastically complimented Price on his comeback, which, in fairness, was delivered with the deft precision of Bill Maher. Perhaps knowing that, Price accepted her praise.

Yep, it was just another meeting of the Dallas County Commissioners Court where five adults debate the most arcane public matter imaginable -- should the city of Garland proceed with "proposed parking lot improvements" at a nature preserve? -- while sniping at each other like the women of Rock of Love. And the great thing about our in-house drama is that it sometimes crosses party lines and sometimes doesn't. There's no rhyme or reason to the madness.

Today, Republicans Mike Cantrell and Ken Mayfield sparred on whether Sheriff Lupe Valdez should have been notified about changes to the food management program, while Mayfield and Price exchanged one-liners on whether Valdez should be re-elected.

Meanwhile, as the commissioners' bicker and debate, Judge Jim Foster sits as silently as a box of chocolates. In theory, he's the leader of this screwy bunch, but he rarely has anything to say -- either in a discussion about property appraisals or a volley of insults between his impish colleagues. This morning, not only was he deathly quiet, he looked confounded and bemused, like an doddering senior wondering why his grandkids are squabbling over the Wii remote.

Dickey, the Republican, is only nominally more engaged. Basically, at every meeting she says something along the lines of "well, let's not rush this. Let's allow the process to play itself out." But in a illuminating column by the Dallas Observer's Jim Schutze, we learn what Dickey means by letting the process play out: Two years after the North Dallas Republican blocked a proposal to turn a state building into an upscale apartment complex with 20 percent of its units reserved for former wards of the state foster care system, her son, Cullen Dickey, is listed as the broker on the property.

Still, regardless of Foster and Dickey's shortcomings, Price's latest salvos are silly and unproductive. The guy really has a split personality. The first, and more visible one, is that of a conscientious, careful lawmaker, whose tough oversight of the troubled Dallas County jail system has made him, in a way, the de facto sheriff. But the second side of Price is childish and cantankerous and merely gives his critics an opportunity to mock him -- even when he's right. Besides, all the insults in the world won't change the hearts and minds of Dickey and Foster.

As Forrest Gump might say, "Sometimes, I guess there's just not enough rocks."