Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Run Carl Run ... but why?

Politics to me is a sport. And I'm a fanatic just as many are sports fanatics. I'm not just interested in who wins or loses the game, I'm enthralled with the play-by-play and the locker room interviews … and even the cheerleaders.

One of the things I find most compelling in politics is what makes a candidate decide to be a candidate. Specifically, I'm always intrigued to see what makes someone jump into a race they're pretty sure they can't win.

Now in sports, this is easy. The league determines the schedule and you know that every so often all teams end up playing each other. The Bills are a perennial candidate, kind of like Ralph Nader. They can no easier opt out of playing the Patriots than Nader could say “no” to another publicity filled run for president.

The Bills do it because it's required. Nader does it because he's full of himself. Those two are easy.

But what makes a guy like Carl Paladino run for governor? This thought had been plaguing me for a while. Then I heard my friend Chris Smith talk about it on a recent podcast hosted by another friend of mine – and former colleague – Brad Riter.

Chris is a very bright guy and gets politics better than most. Begrudgingly, I might even say he understands politics better than yours truly. And I endured four years of schooling and tens of thousands of dollars in loans studying the topic.

But enough about Chris and enough about me. Back to Carl Paladino, the Republican-ish candidate for governor who has only a slightly higher chance of winning than you do. And I probably don't need to remind you that you're not on the ballot.

Some people run knowing that they'll lose because their political party has offered them a job after they lose. The party wants to save face by having a candidate. The party also wants to make the other candidate spend money. And there's always a chance that the other guy - who everyone knows is going to win – does something really stupid and loses. This does not describe Carl. He created his own party and has no need for a government or political job.

Some people run knowing that they're going to lose in hopes of increasing their profile for another race in the future. Their first run is strictly to get their name out there so that two years from now when people go to the voting booth, they say, “hey, this name looks familiar.” This also does not describe Carl. He has no interest in running for anything else. He just wants to be governor.

Some people run knowing that they'll lose because they want to inject their ideas into the system. As a candidate it's easier to get your message across. Hopefully someone with some authority will pick up your ideas and run with them. This doesn't describe Carl either. He hasn't exactly released a platform of things he wants to accomplish. His whole message is “I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore.” It's kind of hard for someone to pick that up and run with it.

The best I can figure is that Carl Paladino is running for governor because he likes the attention. And I think he enjoys playing spoiler, having effectively neutered Rick Lazio's candidacy. There's also the possibility that he thinks he can win, but I doubt it.

Basically, Carl Paladino is our own home-grown Ralph Nader.

Hey, look, I'm mad as hell, too. And I'm not looking forward to four or less years of another Cuomo … or Rick Lazio. But I also can't vote for a guy who has poor judgment (his email fiasco) and no real solutions.

So to those of you with the orange “mad as hell” yard signs, do us all a favor and take them down. You're just enabling him and feeding his addiction.

Plus, you look silly.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Redefining "lost"

A story published over the weekend really kind of raised my ire.
For those of you who may have missed it, Neale Gulley's piece in the Sunday paper discussed the recent line item veto's by Governor David Paterson and how they would affect Western New York. Specifically, the piece mentioned a $9,450 procurement from Assemblyman Robin Schimminger to the United Way of the Tonawandas.
The story said the organization “stands to lose $9,450 they already got from Assemblyman Robin Schimminger, D-Kenmore, for a new computer system.”
We were told the money would be there but we’re waiting for the paperwork,” the organization's director of finance and administration said. “it was submitted a couple weeks ago.”
So if I read Gulley's story correctly, the organization obviously didn't “already got” anything. They were promised it by Assemblyman Schimminger but it hadn't been delivered yet. And since they didn't already have it, they didn't lose it. They just didn't get it.
If I tell you I'm going to give you a dollar and then don't, you didn't lose a dollar. You just didn't get the dollar I said I was going to give you. That might make me a bad guy, but it doesn't really make you a victim.
Since the $9,450 in question here isn't from Assemblyman Schimminger's bank account, maybe he shouldn't have promised it in the first place. Seems to me there's a saying here about your mouth not writing checks your butt can't cash.
Further, the story explained that the money was there for the United Way of the Tonawandas to use, but they hadn't done so by the end of the fiscal year, so they lost out.
If you call me today and ask if you can borrow a cup a sugar, I'd likely say yes. If you fail to pick up that cup of sugar in a reasonable amount of time, I'll probably just end up using it myself. Several months down the road if you happen to stop by and say, “hey where's my sugar you said I could borrow,” I'd probably look at you like you had multiple heads. And if I don't have the extra sugar anymore I'm not going to feel guilty about it.
That's not much different that the United Way's not using the money it had been promised.
You still couldn't tell anyone that you “lost” a cup of sugar that you never had. Especially if it was your laziness or disorganization that prevented you from getting the sugar in the first place.
You may think I'm being hard on the United Way here. After all, they're a great group with great goals and they help a lot of people. But I'm just using them as an example – just like Gulley did. And no matter how good they are, that doesn't mean that we have the money to give them.
The reason for Paterson's vetoes in the first place is because the fiscal state of the empire state is deplorable. And we just can't give money out the way we used to. In fact, had we not been giving this money out in this manner for the last 30 years, maybe we'd be in a lot better shape now.
Someone somewhere will try to make the argument that this is “just $9,450” and considering the size of the state's budget, it's proportionally just a drop in the bucket and they should be able to find the money to honor Schimminger's word.
In all, Paterson vetoed $700 million in expenditures.
I guess it's true what they say, “ten grand here and ten grand there and eventually you're talking real money.”