It is obvious Donaldson pines for the days when he was the county’s “last executive chairman” (as he puts it) from 2005 to 2008. He expects that as party spokesman (minority leader) he will automatically be returned should Democrats pick up the one seat they need to regain the majority on November 5.
Last week’s exhibition could put that outcome in doubt.
At the least, Bernardo should be given some credit for attempting to redefine an indolent, divided legislature into something resembling a co-equal branch of government, what with all their jobs on the line this November.
Party favors
It is sometimes said that God must have loved the Paretes (as legislators) because he made so many of them (as legislators). But only one of the father-son-son “independent Democratic caucus” was in attendance for the organizational meeting last week. Poppa John Parete arrived after the opening gavel to cast his vote for Bernardo. Rob Parete and Rich Parete, presumed Bernardo votes, were nowhere to be found. As Republicans circled the wagons, no Democratic votes were needed.
Party chairman Rascoe, in urging all his (twelve) incumbents to run for reelection, will only be able to limp along with them. The chairman underwent surgery for what he called an “Achilles” replacement, and now gets around (barely) on crutches. It is painful to watch.
The Coleman girls’ championship volleyball team and their coach Coralei Provenzano were honored for the kind of tenacity and determination we hope to convey to our young folk. The team had only seven players, six of whom took the floor. Though that deficit made every match a challenge and practice almost impossible, yet they became champions.
It is also apparently a team with a sense of humor. All laughed when malaprop legislator Jim Maloney introduced them as the Coleman championship “girls’ basketball team.”
Coach Provenzano is the daughter-in-law of legislator Jeanette Provenzano.
Sunshine Wayne Harris, last seen via Skype from his winter vacation digs in Naples, Florida, was on hand, tanned and rested to participate live in proceedings. Methinks the retired educator might have been the twelfth (and deciding) vote for a Republican chairman, even though recently enacted county law allows legislators to vote in absentia.
Parting shots
I didn’t mean to pick on Maloney, so here’s a few more memorable one-liners from legislators speaking in all sincerity:
“You can’t go from point A to point C without going through point B.” — Bob Aiello
“This is the worst thing since sliced bread.” — John Parete.
“Good leadership leads you in the right direction.” — T.J. Briggs
The big bucks
At the urging of the county executive, the legislature got an early start on a monetary matter of the utmost importance, the extension late this year of the “temporary” one percent sales tax surcharge enacted in 2002 and extended five times since. The tax expires in November, and action to extend it will be required before the state legislature adjourns in June.
They’re talking serious money. The one percent special sales tax — which in fact most counties impose — is projected to raise $22.5 million. Without it, property taxes would skyrocket, or some $20 million worth of programs and jobs will go south. Some may urge “belt-tightening,” but this goes well beyond a few notches.
While the county legislature will approve, there will be some nibbling around the edges. John Parete, for instance, said some portion should go to relieve what he called a county “unfunded mandate” to offset an estimated $600,000 in election expenses this year. In a local election year, that one just might fly.
And finally, corrections are in order. I recently reported that congressman Maurice Hinchey would retire on full ($174,000) congressional salary with full health benefits. Not so. Members of Congress draw the same (relatively generous) retirement benefits as other federal employees. Average pension for congressman is $70,000 a year, according to a congressional website. They continue to pay health premiums in retirement, with the government picking up 75 percent of the tab. And Hinchey was born in Greenwich Village in 1938, not Hell’s Kitchen — I must have deduced the latter from all the hell he gave opponents over a 40-year career (38 years in office).
