The Joe Bruno era ends today in anti-climactic fashion as the old man exits
stage right stage left through the trap door with all of the hefty retirement benefits that New York State employees have come to know and love. Blogging about Albany just won’t be the same without him. His righteous indignation. His stupid quotes. His slight but nagging resemblance to All My Children‘s David Canary. Am I the only one who always wondered if he was Adam, or if he was Stuart? Indeed that was probably the reason for his great longevity in office. You could never be quite sure if he was a scheming Machiavel at heart, or just your dotty old uncle.
His constituents are left with “The Joe” and with the delicious memories of pork picnics to which they will probably never be invited again. The rest of us above Westchester are left to wonder what the hell happened. It all was so clear last year at this time. Sure, the constant sniping was unproductive, but at least it was familiar. Now there’s no Eliot and no Joe. No Upstate Czar, no President Hillary Clinton, and it feels dangerously like no one is in charge of this vast outback. Just a few “Wall-E”‘s left behind to compact the trash and stack it.
Maybe in 700 years, something wonderful will fall out of the sky. Until then, maybe we’ll just have to cannibalize each other for spare parts as we break down one by one.