New York Democrats: Can We Elect a Mayor?

New York City is one of the most Democratic cities in the country. We haven’t elected a mayor in more than 12 years and we might make it 16 years if things continue as is.

None of the four major candidates for mayor show much promise for more than infighting and grand standing. The front runner going into the primary was former Bronx borough president Fernando Ferrer. Ferrer got himself into hot water among the city’s race-baiting black activists when he admitted to a gathering of police officials that the 1999 shooting of Amadou Diallo was not a crime. Most of the city has known that for more than six years, but the Al Sharptons of the world screamed for the cops’ blood back then and Ferrer was obliged to scream along with them.

This is the chickens coming home to roost for Ferrer. He ran a race-bating campaign four years ago that tried to get Blacks and Hispancis to vote against White candidates and it ended up backfiring on him. He was a sore loser and would not campaign on behalf of the Democratic nominee, Mark Green. Mark Green did a lot of his own undoing, but Ferrer and Al Sharpton should not be forgiven by New York City voters for turning on their own political party in the name of racial politics. To them, Mark Green had not genuflected far enough and they had no problem undermining his campaign.

Bloomberg took advantage of the Democrats’ division. He was helped by his own billions and by Rudolph Giuliani’s endorsement and post-September 11th popularity. Bloomberg has been a much better mayor than I ever thought he would be. He has a lot of the down-to-Earth qualities that New Yorker’s like but without Giuliani’s vindictive nuttiness.

However, Bloomberg has done things that have made me unable to vote for him: he brought the Republican National Convention to New York City and has overseen outrageous and un-American police conduct against protesters and bicycle riders. He has proposed and championed one of the biggest acts of corporate welfare in his West Side stadium plan that will spend $600 million in taxpayers’ money to give a sports complex to a millionaire.

I can’t vote for Bloomberg, but I can’t vote for a race-baiter like Ferrer or C. Virginia Fields either. If those are my choices, I’ll vote for a protest candidate like Christopher X. Brodeur.

Spring Comes to New York

New York City finally entered spring this week. The last vestiges of winter chill melted under afternoon sun. Women’s legs started making more appearances. Being inside behind a desk became that much more depressing. It was still light out when I got out of work – most evenings anyway.

Spring brought with it the first flush of heat that promises the oppressive city summer in a few months time. There will also be at least one weekend in the spring where we get a heavy, awful taste of summer heat. It will be May and 97 degrees and we will test out our air conditioners for the first time.

After work a few evenings ago I went with some co-workers to a bar in New York’s financial district to say goodbye to a former co-worker. The bar was so crowded that I didn’t stay for a drink. I said my goodbyes to my former co-worker, a very pleasant and attractive woman who has a very bright and positive personality and is already missed. I congratulated her on her new job and gave her an awkward one-armed hug.

I went to the restroom and when I returned, my co-worker Ari said, “I’m not staying.”

“I’m with you, Ari,” I told him, and we left. I’m sorry, but no amount of drink specials is worth being miserable. I go to bars to either drink and relax with friends or to see live music. Neither was happening here.

Ari and I were grateful for the fresh air and to be out of the hellish bar. We briefly explored the interesting narrow alley known as Liberty Place – near Liberty and Nassau Streets. Downtown is a fascinating maze of streets you’ve never heard of will take you to neat pockets of the city you’ve never been to or knew were there. What makes it interesting is that this is the oldest part of New York City and the streets were created by the Dutch a long time ago. You have very old, narrow streets lined with very large buildings. It is a part of the city that has a lot of character.

The subway ride home was the same crowded, overheated hell that I had just fled, but at least I had a seat and could read or doze off to help me forget my misery.

Irish Uncle Toms

My latest column is now online. It may be outdated as far as what happened and didn’t happen on St. Patrick’s Day, but sadly there always seem to be plenty of Irish Uncle Toms around.

So read my latest column and post comments on it. Hate mail welcome; this is about the Irish after all…

R.I.P.: John Paul II

I was raised a Catholic and was once an (unmolested) altar boy, and I grew up respecting the Pope. When John Paul II came to the U.S. in 1979, I stood in the midtown Manhattan rain for hours waiting for his caravan to pass me by. When he finally drove by he didn’t disappoint, standing in his open air Popemobile (this was before he was shot and saddled with his Popemobile bubble) in the rain to wave back.

When I got older, I ditched Roman Catholicism and view all religion as garbage. I never lost respect for the Pope, though. John Paul II may have presided over an arcane religious institution and held a lot of reactionary views on social issues like abortion and homosexuality, but he spoke out against poverty and war just as fervently if not more so. He didn’t subscribe to the transparent and false morality that opposes aborting American fetuses while approving the bombing deaths of Iraqi children.

Terri Shiavo’s body was not yet cold when the world’s media began its ghoulish death watch of John Paul II. The television news wasted hours of their time telling us this past weekend that His Holiness was still dead. This circus won’t end soon either, as his funeral and the selection of the next Pope will consume more hours of network news coverage.

Most of the world will continue to lack his courage and unwavering commitment to faith. Catholics will mourn the passing of John Paul II with gratitude for his life.