On Wednesday, March 12, 2008 a meltdown occurred on my hard drive destroying a nearly complete 600 page manuscript documenting my life and times in the world of New York City political blogging. Simultaneously, a meltdown of far less significance to my daily life occurred in Albany, as New York Governor Eliot Spitzer announced his resignation from office.
The origins of both these events, each of which I consider to be tragic (but surely regarded by many others with glee), stemmed from similar sources. My hard-drive contracted a virus probably acquired from visits to venues mostly frequented by naked women. The origins of the Governor’s meltdown had a similar pedigree, although my disabling virus was contacted at sites where the admission was free, while the Governor’s problems seemingly stemmed from a misunderstanding of the Albany concept of “pay to play”.
Although my old buddy, Roscoe Conway, sent me a copy of an earlier and far different draft I’d sent him, I took my meltdown as a portent. I concluded that the time to cash in was now, and the times demanded a far less unwieldy document focused like a laser upon the acts of prostitution which are the day to day mother’s milk of life in Albany, as well as the far less common acts which brought down Governor Spitzer. So, I went back to my source material and found the book I just described largely buried within.
A rough draft was completed just around the time Room 8, meaning in this case myself and Rock Hackshaw, was selected by the Democratic National Committee as New York State’s designated blog for the 2008 Democratic National Convention. At the time I saw this as an opportunity to market my masterwork, but in the hubbub which ensued I pretty much forget about it until now.
In a felicitous concatenation of circumstances, the publication of Spitzer insider Lloyd Constantine’s self serving , self important and obtuse “Journal of the Plague Year” has coincided with both the imminent publication of Peter Elkind’s “Rough Justice: The Rise and Fall of Eliot Spitzer” (inspired, no doubt by Gatemouth pieces provided to him by a mutual acquaintance at Fortune Magazine) and the State government’s current outbreak of déjà vu all over again. The incipient fall of David Paterson, happening as I write, demands a volume which puts the whole sad Spitzer-Paterson rollercoaster ride in its proper context as bedroom farce.
In order to keep track of the Paterson investigations one would need the political equivalent of the Daily Racing Form, which probably already has a reporter on the case, thanks to the stable-like stink emitting from the “deliberations” over the video slot-machine contract for Aqueduct Racetrack, In an effort to see that the operations were conducted with the requisite level of purity, the contract was awarded to a company in which one of the principals (not principles) was a man of God, whose had ample prior experience leading a congregation with a prosperous bingo operation, although some skeptics believe the Governor may have been more concerned about the Reverend Floyd Flake’s experience running political field and election day operations.
As they say one good contract deserves another.
Some have noted with suspicion that the bidding process rules for Aqueduct changed several times. On the other hand, baseball’s rules have remained pretty steady since the dark day the designated hitter became law in some jurisdictions. Still, one must be concerned that the Governor may have tried to secure free World Series tickets without being Rudy Giuliani. The quality of this line of inquiry is probably signaled by the fact that it was spurred not by the New York Times, but instead by the Post, but then again, nobody sane reads anything in the Post besides their sports pages and the Sudoku (for which Floyd Flake has not yet received the contract), so naturally the World Series probe is of major importance to them (and them alone).
The real concern here is that the Public Integrity Commission believes the Governor lied to them.
What arrogance!
Why should the Governor treat them any differently than he treats anyone else?
Talk about a double standard. Actually, we don’t need to; the Governor will do it for us. Of course, this is nonsense–there is no double standard; there are barely any standards at all.
Also tied up in the Integrity Commission investigation is the Governor’s eyes and ears, Special Assistant David “DJ” Johnson, who seems to have proven that Assembly Speaker Shelly Silver’s decision to be his own driver was a sagacious move. Though this might not normally be an option the Governor would want to consider, it can be argued that doing the same might actually have been the safer move for him.
As I write this, the State Police are about to gain their third Superintendent in the course of little more than a week. Not coincidentally, DJ also figures in Attorney General Andrew Cuomo’s probe of whether the Governor had his State Police security unit, his Press Secretary, and at least one other State employee reach out to DJ's ex-girlfriend after she called police to report that DJ assaulted her. We won't even get into the phone conversion involving the Governor himself.
Luckily for the Governor, he is no longer a State Senator.
Despite this embarrassment of riches, I’m pretty sure I’m missing something. The Post says there are now seven probes of Paterson, while the News counts only five; and none have anything to do with adultery or cola products.
Although little noted elsewhere, it is perhaps most significant of all that even before the first whiffs of major and minor scandal, the State was going to hell in a handbasket while the Governor himself barely made an impression on its operations
It is clear that it is time to exhume my old draft and take it to the present.
As such, I am today announcing that my book on the Spitzer/Paterson Era (eros? error?) is nearly complete.
I am calling it “Why Jesus Wasn’t Born in Albany.”
[Because they couldn’t find three wise men and a virgin.]
The contents contained inside those pages documents a particular period in the history of New York politics, mostly as it was occurring. Certain themes (and jokes) recur in a manner which eventually forms the outlines of a somewhat coherent (I hope) worldview, as portraits are painted of the evils of the “Albany Bi-Partisan Iron Triangle”, the reflexive idiocy of the catechism of the politically correct, the cognitive dissonance and outright hypocrisy of self-proclaimed “reformers”, the complete bankruptcy of the Republican Party, the emptiness and preeminent centrality of the politics of identity, the avarice of much of the political class, regular and insurgent; and so on.
In my original draft, the story began in late 2005, with the post-conviction exit from the Leadership of the Democratic Party of the County of Kings (AKA Brooklyn) by Assemblyman Clarence Norman and his replacement by Assemblyman Vito Lopez. In the earlier draft, the story ended in early 2008 with the exit from the Leadership of the State of New York by Governor Eliot Spitzer and his replacement by Governor David Paterson. In other words, the book began with the transition of power from a black man to a white (Italian passing as Latino) one and ended with the transition of power from a white (Jewish passing as WASP) man to a black one.
The running order has now been changed somewhat. More importantly, the book now goes on to document the two years since that time, and the reversal of that trajectory.
This story has been organized in the manner of Arthur Schlesinger, Jr.’s trilogy “The Age of Roosevelt.” Franklin Roosevelt, a former New York Governor, served as President of the United States for a little over 145 months, lifting the hopes of Americans praying for real change, while guiding America through the Great Depression and winning the Great War, before suffering a cerebral hemorrhage. Spitzer’s 15 minutes ran about 14.5 months, dashing the hopes of New Yorkers praying for real change by facilitating great depression and losing the Great War (with Joe Bruno), before suffering a decidedly non-cerebral hemorrhage of his own. Then the story repeats itself, with the not so surprising twist of our present day Harry Truman dropping the bomb upon himself instead of Hiroshima.
Schlesinger divides his story thus: “The Crisis of the Old Order”, “The Coming of the New Deal”, and “The Age of Upheaval”. By contrast , here we have: “The Stasis of the Old Order”, “The Coming of the New Sheriff (No pun intended)”, and “The Age of Upchucking”.
Another useful framework for examining this story is the Passover Haggadah (the one facet of my life where I am a member of the “Reform Movement”). The opening of a Haggadah is much like a political dinner, with the food arriving far too late, a pro forma introduction and acknowledgment of important guests, some of whom are not in the room, or only there in spirit.
Then come the questions. In the Haggadah there are four, but they are only variations on the central matter at hand: Query: Why is this night different from all other nights? In this book the question is “Is this Knight different from all other knights?” Like any good Jewish text, by way of answers, this book only provides more questions.
The Haggadah not only asks four questions but describes four children, who in this narrative are echoed in the personalities of the two Governors: “The Wise Child, The Wicked Child, The Simple Child, and the Child Unable to Waive His Fifth Amendment Rights”.
As the Haggadah notes: “There are many questions. Now we begin to answer….Our narration begins with degradation and rises to dignity. Our service opens with the rule of evil and advances toward the Kingdom of God.” The story within the pages of my book is somewhat different. There are many questions, but no answers. In describing the Albany Bi-Partisan Iron Triangle, our narrative begins with the degradation of the people of New York and sinks to the public humiliation of a man who dared to challenge it, followed by the humiliation of a man who did not. Our public service begins with the rule of evil and advances nowhere.
The book more or less begins in late 2005. In Brooklyn, the epicenter of this blogger’s universe, corruption scandals had caused a crisis in the existing order of the local Democratic Party. Power transitioned, but cynics said things remain unchanged. Gatemouth, the main character I play on the web, posited that things were very different, although not necessarily any better (or worse).
Statewide, the existing arrangements, collectively known as the “Albany Bi-Partisan Iron Triangle”, put their finger into the wind, and collectively and ruthlessly signed onto the bandwagon of the prohibitive frontrunner, Attorney General Eliot Spitzer, who although not one of the club, ruthlessly worked with all elements to consolidate his likely victory. Don Quixotes in both parties failed to fall into the bandwagon’s conga line, and instead set out on the road to ignominious defeat, while the pragmatists of the existing order ruthlessly arranged to exploit circumstances to control damage and ensure that all remained the same.
Along the way, an heroic figure (State Comptroller Alan Hevesi), who appeared to embody all that was decent and classy, was revealed to be little more than a common criminal (and what little more was revealed was equally unpalatable). Still later, the man most responsible for facilitating Hevesi’s expeditious exit (Spitzer) is forced to depart the scene moments after the revelation of a ridiculously tragic flaw (as opposed to his far more significant tragic flaws which had been foreshadowed far earlier).
But we are getting ahead of ourselves. Spitzer took office, and then came war. Unlike the one in Iraq, Spitzer’s war with Senate Majority Leader Joe Bruno was not without good reason. Unlike the one in Iraq, there was never a moment where the mission seemed accomplished. Like the one in Iraq, it initially focused not on the target which posed the greatest threat (i.e. Al Queda or Joe Bruno), but on one (Saddam Husssein or Shelly Silver) who, however deserving, was a distraction from the main objective. Unlike Iraq, the proper target eventually became the focus. Like the one in Iraq, those considered allies never encompassed full-hearted commitment to the cause; some may even have been duplicitous. Like the one in Iraq, the war was administered with limited competence. Unlike like the one in Iraq, there was no reluctance to commit the necessary resources. Like the war in Iraq, there was little notice paid to the so-called “rules of war” and insufficient notice paid to the rules of human decency. Like the one in Iraq, there was no exit strategy. Like the one in Iraq, it was seemingly without end. Unlike the one in Iraq it ended
Ant then came the rise and fall of the Man Who Knew Too Little (or accepted Too Much).
None of the strands described herein took place in isolation. They connected, they collided, they interacted in a comic operatic ballet replete with pratfalls and pathos, and were scored with a soundtrack of rock, soul and blues while immersed in the baby boomer cultural stew from which both the music and the author emanated.
So, I have a very hot commodity on my hands, nearly ready to be served, and just waiting for the last chapter to write itself. Luckily (for me, not the State) the Governor seems in no hurry.
Besides the resignation, all I need is a publisher.
Those interested in discussing this matter further can contact me at Gatemouthnyc@hotmail.com.
As Gatemouth likes to say, “Stay tuned for more fun and laughter.”