Expect more from the public? Not

Just hours before the new fiscal year was to begin, Gov. David Paterson today issued a plea on U-Tube for voters to contact their local legislators and tell them they support cuts in spending.

So far, there are no reports of lawmakers’ phones ringing off the hook urging that government did them less.

There is an emerging consensus (myself and one other reporter who mentioned it today - have to start somewhere) that the real problem we have both in the state and nationally is that voters don’t want their representatives to make hard decisions.

They want more entitlements and lower taxes as well as less borrowing. And when their reps don’t deliver, they tend to get axed.

Wish someone had mentioned that in one of the many political-science courses I stayed awake for in college.

Paterson was trying to make the point that state lawmakers fear they’ll be voted out of office if they support cuts to education or health care, for example, and that people won’t understand they really had no choice. He was saying people should tell the leaders that they will understand. He’s probably wrong about that.

Paterson’s medium of choice today was U-Tube. Imagine if we had, say, daily printed reports, supported mostly by advertising, that would detail just what government policies are and the choices that confront our elected representatives. It seems that most of the current ways of communicating, like Twitter and texting, just don’t provide enough information for citizens to be really informed.

Oh well. Probably not feasible. You can tall I’m a creature of the last century.

The Big Apple State

After some exhaustive research, which included Google and Wikipedia, I am here to shed some light on why New York is the "Empire State.''

But not too much, since the answer seems murky.

At some point in the 1780s, George Washington may have (nobody caught it on tape) made a reference to New York being the "seat of Empire.'' In those days, "empire'' apparently carried the connotation since lots of economic growth and progress, and not necessarily a system where one group dominates another. Back in those days (this was a long time ago) New York seemed to fit the bill.

It must have seemed apt back in the days when we were building the Erie Canal, taming Niagara Falls and becoming an economic powerhouse. All that, of course, is a while ago now.

More recently, the nickname has given critics of the state a chance to have some fun over the years. Herb London, who was interested in running for governor in 1994, referred to it as the "Vampire State'' because, as he saw it, the state was sucking the life blood out of its citizens in the form of taxes. And this was even before the MTA surcharge and the plan to tax soda!

Among suggestions from readers today included "Union State,'' since they seem to be piloting the ship of state these days, and "Umpire State,'' since then we would at least know to expect some bad calls, and we wouldn't be so stunned each time Albany screws up.

My vote would go with "Big Apple,'' since it is already the nickname of New York City (a sportswriter coined it, referring to big payoffs at tracks) and we're one of the leading apple producers in the country.

But nobody asked me.

Whence Empire State?

Why should we not be surprised that New York didn't win the "race to the top'' for additional federal education funds, whose winners were released today?

No, I won't get started. I've written too many versions of the same problem too many times. Still, that is $700 million we could have gotten. That would have funded almost three-quarters of the raises teachers are going to get this year around the state, but who's counting?

So let me pose it differently. What's wrong with the Empire State? And what does it mean to be the Empire State? Who named it the Empire State? Are we named after the building?

Why can't we be named after something simpler, like gardens (New Jersey), mountains (Vermont) rocks (New Hampshire), a tree (Maine) or the ocean (Rhode Island) or a part thereof, (the Bay State, Massachusetts)?

I can even get my brain around something like the Keystone State (Pennsylvania, which was in a key position between the North and the South in the 18th Century.) I assume Buckeye (Ohio) is some kind of agricultural product, like peach trees for Georgia.

I also understand why Michigan, say, would rather be known as the Great Lakes State rather than say, the heart of the rust belt.

But I don't get empire. Please forward to me some suggestions for a more apt name for our great state, or whatever you think of it.

Matzah ball soup yes, gefilte fish no

I went to my annual Seder celebration last night (I know it wasn't the right night exactly, but our hosts are flexible and tolerant.)

Maybe the biggest lesson I have learned is I love matzah ball soup, but to pass on the gefilte fish.

Every year I pick up a little more of the classic story, especially the parts that we read in English. Hebrew is still, shall we say, a stretch for me. One woman last night also did some of the reading in Yiddish, which was fun to listen to, albeit unintelligible.

In my current state I tend to not react well when I have to wait to long to eat, so I had to check out early. But our host sent me home with a piece of banana cream pie, which picked up my spirits and blood sugar.

As advertised, I have a short piece in this week's New York Times Week in Review section. (Link below.) The other six pieces on what is wrong with the state were interesting, although I have to question what Mitchell Moss has been smoking.

He blames the state's woes on decaying upstate communities that are draining the more prosperous downstate region dry. But ask almost anyone from upstate and they will tell you, get us out from under the taxes, labor laws and business regulations that New York City-based politicians impose on all of us, and you will see the region prosper again. (See "The Politics of Decline,'' Whitston Publishing Co., 2005.)

Here is the link: "Can New York Be Saved?"

The joys of being a volunteer

Another advantage of my volunteer government-watchdog status: as I sit here snug at home and smell dinner cooking (about 7 p.m. Friday) the state Assembly is in session, and will be passing a budget bill later.

Interesting, but I watched part of it on TV and know what is going to happen. So no real reason to be there. Ditto on meetings planned for this weekend. My hats off to my colleagues who are there to record every twist and turn. But I have to say been there, done that.
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One more facilities-manager story. My sister-in-law reminded me that about 20 years ago I put up a bar to the door leading from the kitchen to the basement. It consisted of a couple of heavy metal braces on either side of the door, through which I stuck a (previously painted) two-by-four piece of wood.

It came on the heels of reading a creepy novel called "Providence'' where the bad guys twice broke into someone's basement, came up the stairs through an unlocked door and committed mayhem.

I was determined it wouldn't happen to us and it never did, although I did have to explain over and over again to visitors why this ugly-looking piece of wood was across the door. Now with the new kitchen we have a sturdier door with a more conventional lock. What will they think of next?

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Got an extra $6 in your wallet? Buy a New York Times Sunday, go to the Week in Review section and read my 450 or so well chosen words on why the state budget is so screwed up. They have a good crossword in their mag as well.

Anybody looking for a facilities manager?

A few answers to the response I got to my non-facilities-manager posting:

Actually I have not always been totally asleep at the switch. A few years ago after taking a shower I went to my favorite chair in front of the TV in the family room and was soon deeply involved in a game. NOT so deeply involved, however, that I didn't notice water cascading from the ceiling - right under where I had just taken a shower. I yelled for Emily, and together we made the decision to get the shower fixed.

The toilet has also been backing up lately, I noticed, and so I agreed we should get that fixed - I even initiated the idea.

I am also a bit of a furniture maker. About 20 years ago when we needed a book case for the family room. I put one together and screwed it into the wall. Some of the shelves were straight and many of the screws were hidden. Then last year when we were having the room redone, the contractor wanted to tear it out and couldn't believe we wanted to keep it. It has sentimental value, I told him, while privately seething. Some art has imperfections.

So maybe I would have some entries on a resume for facilities manager. But I think I'd rather be lieutenant governor or a minority legislator or something else that doesn't require any heavy lifting...

In the anniversary department, I was operated on nine months ago today in Boston. I celebrated by having my 21st bout of chemotherapy. That gives me a week off before facing number 22 on April 8.

Crappy doors no more

I have a friend who recently retired and is married to a woman who is still working, so he has taken over much of the responsibilities for running their household. He calls himself the "facilities manager.''

We are in the same position vocationally in our house, but no one has nominated me to be facilities manager. Just as well.

We have had a guy working at the house this week replacing most of our interior doors. I would not have picked out crappy doors as one of the problems we had to address if I had been asked to list 100. The doors opened and closed. What else are they supposed to do?

But most of the new ones are in now, and I have to admit, they look much better and give the place a spiffy look, which is a good thing.

It reminds me of last summer, when we had our kitchen torn out. I saw nothing wring with the cabinets (Emily: they're shabby and cracked), the counter tops (Emily: they're outdated) or the floor (Emily: it always looks dirty; we have to have a wooden floor).

My birthday present to her last year was to sign off on all such changes, as well as some others I liked (new bay window, deeper sinks) so we had them done, and now I like them (some people would die for our bamboo floor).

I can almost visualize my bachelor pad, as we used to call them, had I not married: pizza boxes piled high, dishes stacked in the sink, lint an inch thick on the rugs and probably some lava lamps left over from the '70s.

I'd probably need to go out and hire a facilities manager.

The Hall of Chutzpah

One of the joys of having lived in New York so long is to learn interesting words like “chutpah’’ and watch it in action.

For example…

Yesterday the Republican State Committee launched a new feature on its website, www.NYGOP.org, called the "Hall of Shame," which it said is “intended to educate New Yorkers about the disturbing pattern of corruption and bad behavior among the state's top Democrats.’’

OK, they have plenty of ammunition, named Eliot Spitzer, former Comptroller Alan Hevesi who was using state workers to squire his wife around town and, most recently, former Congressman Eric Massa of “tickle me Eric’’ fame.

But please, we all know corruption is a bipartisan enterprise in the Empire State. It was only in December that former Senate Majority Leader Joseph Bruno, a Republican, was convicted of using his public job to enrich himself.

And it was only a few years ago that former Sen. Guy Velella, R-Bronx, was found guilty of taking bribes.

For some reason the GOP’s “Hall’’ didn’t include those.

It also gave a pass to Gov. David Paterson, who has admitted to numerous extramarital affairs while a senator. Of course, maybe the Republicans just don’t want to go there…

Alert readers may have noticed I screwed up yesterday the web address of the Capitol Pressroom radio show. It is http://thecapitolpressroom.org. So you have no excuse to miss any more shows.

A face for radio

Testing the theory that I have a face made for radio, I today started a new gig as "co-host'' of the daily public-affairs show from the Capitol, the Capitol Pressroom.

Those among you who can't get enough of this kind of stuff can listen live at 11 a.m. at www.thecapitolpressroom.org. I'm on Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Otherwise, as they say, check your local listings.

I think I have described my duties in this regard before in my occasional appearances on the show: ask questions, interject words of wisdom and don't spill the can of ginger ale in front of me. So far, so good.

What I really like so far is starting my work day a little before 11 and being done in time for lunch. Almost feels like...(inject your own punchline.)

Host Susan Arbetter lines up the guests, does the research, keeps the conversation going and does all of the other heavy lifting.

As long news continues to pour out of the Capitol it is hard to imagine a better assignment. But who knows? There may be a slight break in the stream of scandals and pratfalls at some point in the distant future. Wouldn't bet on it, though.

When the going gets tough...

If I'm going to ingest news Sunday morning, it will usually be via print rather than TV. I seldom watch Meet The Press, especially now that Tim Russert is gone.

But I saw a promo that said the Republican and Democratic leaders of the House were going to be on today, as well as the two parties' national chairmen.

Seems like if there was ever a time to get some clarity on this vote-of-the-century on health care scheduled for later in the day, this would be it. So I tuned in.

I was disappointed, of course, in part since all parties have their talking points down so cold and also because David Gregory doesn't have the skill at pinning people down that Russert did. Is this the rebirth of the Soviet Union or the Age of Aquarius? Does this mean a Republican sweep of the fall elections is inevitable or impossible? No light was shed on these questions for me.

But one number was drilled into my skull: 216. That's a majority of House, I gathered, and there must be four vacancies since the full membership is 435. (Guess Eric Massa isn't the only House member who has left lately.)

But unfortunately, today was also the end of the fourth day of the first round of the NCAA basketball tournament, which is of course full of numbers. Cornell, my new favorites team, scored 89 today in advancing to the Sweet 16. Syracuse, a number 1 seed, had no trouble with number 8 Gonzaga. Georgia Tech couldn't break 70 in its loss to Ohio State... and so the day went.

Then Emily, who had been out all day, came home and asked me about the health-care situation. Did they get the 216 votes?

For just a minute I thought she was again displaying her ignorance about the important things in life (spectator sports). Nobody scores that many points, not even Kentucky against a 16 seed, not even the Celtics against the Nets...

Then an old synap clicked, and we turned on CNN to find out the vote hadn't taken place yet. But I was confused until I saw a Republican Congressman hearkening back to "failed Soviet Communism'' and I realized I had again tuned into American politics, circa 2010. He would obviously not be one of the 216 votes. Can they force overtime in the House?

There are a lot of cliches in sports - I did it for my team, I owe it all to the coach, I worked hard in the off-season, Hi Mom, etc. But at least, unlike contemporary politics, there is a little variety. Maybe that's why more people pay attention to sports than politics.

A nap can be a blessing

Friday is normally the throwaway day of the week for me three times a month, as recovery time from the Thursday chemo treatments.

But today I felt roused to go hear Steve Levy, now a Democrat but who has signed on to be a Republican, announce he's running for governor. He was having a rally/press conference across from the Capitol.

He has what sounds like a lot of good reasons to me - mainly a track record of holding down spending and taxes in his home county of Suffolk, where he has been the executive since 2004.

I kept up with what he and his new GOP friends were saying for about an hour or so, but then decided I had had enough, and I left. There is just so many times I can hear a politician talk about how he/she is going to save the state and how much he loves his spouse. Been there, done that.

The big event of my day was to be watching the Siena basketball game in the NCAA tournament. I got home, wrote a blog and column about Levy, and was all set to watch the game. Then they fell way behind, I laid down on the couch, and the next thing I knew the game was almost over.

Sometimes needing to take a nap can be a blessing.

Fred Schroeder, 1925-2010

I have a different view of what constitutes "old'' than I used to.

Of course, there was a time when my current age (62) seemed pretty ancient, but now I hope it isn't even near the end of the line.

People over 80 can seem old, and those over 90 can seem youthful (Supreme Court Justice John Paul Stevens, about to turn 90, still plays singles tennis daily, according to a story in the current issue of The New Yorker magazine.)

Until just a few years ago, my friend Fred Schroeder, who died today at 85, was always bouncing around our church, often with tales of one of his Adirondack hikes (he led more than 1,000). Emily, who often went on hikes Fred and his wife Martha led, was constantly commenting on how hard it was not to fall behind.

Fred didn't just lead hikes though. He was constantly leading work parties to improve trails (he is responsible for laying our the Long Path through the Capital Region) and he and Martha were the benefactors to whom we owe the existence of the Thompson's Lake Nature Center.

I remember we had some good laughs about how tightly Gov. Pataki's image-maker, the famous (or infamous) Zenia Mucha, wanted to control the ceremony announcing their gift. Fred said it was hard to remember sometimes that it was his and Martha's money.

Five years ago, when he turned 80, Fred's picture on the summit of some Adirondacks peak was on the cover of The Cloudsplitter, the newsletter of the Albany chapter of the Adirondack Mountain Club.

Just about three weeks ago, he had a letter to the editor in the Times Union urging lawmakers to resist Gov. Paterson's dumb (my word, not his) plan to close Thacher State Park.

Fred and Martha's daughter, Hallie, has been in the forefront of efforts to persuade lawmakers to keep Thacher Park open. She has paid for all of those "Save the Park'' signs that have been popping up along roadways around here.

Probably the question he was asked the most across the decades he led hikes was "are we almost there Fred?"

"Soon we'll be almost there,'' he would invariably answer.

Rest in peace, Fred.

The language of cancer

In a story in yesterday's New York Times, reporter Dana Jennings, who has prostate cancer, expressed his frustration that language is inadequate to describe what having cancer is like, but then does a terrific job of doing that very thing at the end of his story.

His frustration stems from what he views as the overuse of phrases like "long battle with cancer'' and "fighting'' cancer.

He points out that people with the disease have little choice about how to react to it.

"We are caught in the middle, between our doctors and their potential tools of healing and the cell-devouring horde,'' he writes.

"It pays to have a positive outlook, I think, but that in no way translates into 'fighting' cancer,'' he continyes. "Cancer simply is. You can deny its presence in your body, cower at the thought or boldly state that you're going to whup it. But the cancer does not care. You're here, the cancer has arrived and the disease is going to feed until your doctors destroy it, or, at least, discourage it.''

That strikes me as about right, although certainly learning to live with it (keeping up with politics yes, going on 20-mile bike rides no) is a key to a successful life while the disease and the drugs contend over which will prevail.

Jennings also suggests a way in which cancer has changed his life that I can identify with:

"Strangely enough, although cancer threatened my life it also exalted it, brought with it a bright and terrible clarity,'' he writes. "So, no, cancer isn't a battle, a fight. It's simply life - life raised to a higher power.''

Wanted: bigger leaders

I met Lt. Gov. Richard Ravitch, who got his job last summer, for the first time today. We were on the same radio show.

I of course had heard a lot about him and my impressions that he is a serious, smart man with much to offer to the state were confirmed.

I had just arrived in 1975 when New York City almost collapsed financially, and remember he had a key role in pulling it out of the hole.

Now, at 76, he is trying to help the state to do the same thing. This is a much harder job, he said.

It got me thinking about whether leaders were just bigger then, or is it because I am older now and have seen more that they just seem smaller now?

Through the prism of time, the city's fiscal crisis of 35 years ago is generally viewed as the finest hour in New York government and politics in the current era. Republicans, Democrats, unions, business and others all pulled together to help solve the city's problems. Gov. Hugh Carey was seen as a tower of strength.

Where are such leaders now? Can't anybody think beyond the next election? Can't anybody think of the state's financial situation beyond this year? Can anybody move the antagonistic parties to the myriad disputes tying us in knots to to compromise for the greater good?

These questions obviously aren't limited to either politics or to New York. Have bankers always been so dumb and greedy, Congress so partisan, unions so short-sighted and selfish?

Ravitch and his plan to get the state back on track both seem like throwbacks to an earlier time. We could use some contemporary leaders to help get us out of the jams we're in now.

Wanted: radio delete key

As I have done for each of the past few Mondays, I was "co-host'' on a political talk show on the radio this morning at the Capitol.

In many ways it is a dream job because the real host, Susan Arbetter, is polished and smart and keeps the conversation going with various guests. When something occurs to me, I sort of barge into the conservation with a few questions or observations, and then lapse back into silence again if I feel like it. Only if I used what former Congressman Eric Massa called his "salty'' language could I actually get myself in trouble.

I've been around the Capitol so long that in most cases I know the guests and have at least a passing knowledge of the issue on the table and have strung enough words together so that what I say makes sense, at least on the surface.

But Susan mentioned today that she is thinking of taking a week off next month and would like me to pitch in while she is gone.

I managed not to gag as she assured me that there's nothing to it and that plenty of people would be around to help, and I didn't ask for any more specifics about exactly what she has in mind.

But I have been on enough shows and listened to more to know that the real skill in hosting a show like this is keeping the ball rolling during pauses, remembering who you're talking to and avoiding the dreaded dead air. Yet while you have to do so much talking, you can't say anything really stupid or profane.

Sounds like a job several notches above my pay grade. Plus, how can you do communicate anything in a medium where there are no delete or escape keys?

Erin Go Braugh

Am I missing something, or is there some point to St. Patrick's Day besides getting drunk?

I know, I'm showing my age and I have to admit that I did my share of vomiting on the lawn of the fraternity house back in the day. Journalists,especially like me of Irish heritage, have been known to have a quaff or two. Not not to sound too prim, but the first beverage we have run out of at the last few annual reporter shows has been, of all things, water.

But last night we were in downtown Albany to see a play, and were shocked(!) to see what the old cop shows used to call 'youths' weaving on foot through traffic with beers and other drinks in their hands, oblivious to traffic.

In the doorway of an office building, two guys were scuffling, apparently paying no attention to the cops who were trying to break it up.

Later, we saw a police car on the sidewalk in front a couple of bars, apparently trying to break up a group of drunken revelers.

A good sign: several parking spots in front of these establishments were reserved for taxis, so I have to assume people are smarter about drinking and driving than we used to be.

Not to go too far out on a limb here, but I'm guessing many were SUNY Albany students, voted one of the best "party schools" (most drinking?) in America a few years ago.

I remember an intern we had a few years ago (like most of our interns, a SUNY Albany product and, like most of them as well, first-rate) who told me, only half-kidding, that while he and his fellow students were very responsible on Wednesdays, weekends on campus tended to start on Thursdays and end on Tuesdays.

We're not often downtown Saturday nights, but I assume that the level of activity last night was greater than normal because there was a St. Patrick's Day parade earlier in the day to mark...what, five days before the holiday? All of the green shirts and green party hats tended to give us that impression anyway.

There. Pardon the holier-than-thou tone, but since booze and chemo don't mix that well, I can afford to be a modern-day prohibitionist.

Still doesn't make sense

It was two years ago today (I'm big on anniversaries this week) that Eliot Spitzer stepped down as governor - just two days after his secret identity as "Client Number 9'' of a prostitution ring was revealed.

I remember the jut-jawed former Sheriff of Wall Street and his ashen wife, Silda, standing in front of the cameras and admitting his humiliation.

My first thought, as I'm sure it was for many other people, is how can somebody so smart be so dumb?

I also remember getting an e-mail from Janice, who was then traveling in Brazil, asking what was going on. She had picked up a paper in Sao Paulo (she doesn't read Portuguese) and seeing ol' Eliot's picture in the middle of the otherwise unintelligible front page. We heard of a friend traveling in China who had the same experience.

The stories written here were in English, but they seemed foreign. Ashley Dupree? Kirsten? Mayflower Hotel? Did he wear socks?

It reminded me of the episode in 1993 when the state's well respected chief judge, Sol Wachtler, admitted he had dressed up as a cowboy and sent a condom to a 14-year-old girl as part of his harassment of a former lover.

All of this was invaluable experience when, in his first press conference as governor after Spitzer stepped down, David Paterson admitted he had had a string of affairs - and that his wife, who was standing beside him, had one herself.

Then I was trying to figure out where all of this fit into the political-science classes I had taken in school and the endless string of public meetings I had attended over my career and the hundreds of politicians I have known and the countless trees I have killed and ink I have spilled trying to make sense of it all.

Couldn't do it.

Another milestone

My last day of work for Gannett was nine months ago today.

Last June 11, the coup craziness in the Senate was just getting underway, and I remember having to elbow my way into the Senate chambers that morning to view all of this first-hand - the Republicans and two renegade Democrats uniting to unseat the fragile majority that had ruled the house for the previous six months.

Then I went to lunch in the Capitol and found when I went to stand up that I could barely stir from my seat. I sort of staggered back to the office, wrote a column (the 11th of June was also a Thursday) called the doc and went home to sleep. My tumor was discovered the next day and I underwent surgery two weeks later.

It certainly hasn't been all fun and games since, but, as a doctor reminded me this week, anyone who has survived pancreatic cancer for nine months has no basis for complaining.

I celebrated today by going for my 19th chemotherapy treatment. It wasn't bad, as these things go.

Bland can be good

It will take some adjusting from the press corps and public-relations people if Richard Ravitch becomes the new governor.

Reporters today filed into a different conference room than the one typically used by the embattled (to say the least) Gov. David Paterson to hear Ravitch talk about the details of a new budget plan. He will take over the top job for the rest of the year if and when Paterson quits - something he said he has no intention of doing.

When Ravitch started to answer questions today, a press aide began to call on reporters, until one noted that Ravitch is not blind and is perfectly capable of calling on reporters himself, which he proceeded to do.

He talked for about a half-hour, looking at notes about a budget plan he was proposing, and seemed very conversant with the facts.

Plus there were no questions about any personal scandals (there aren't any, as far as we know), about whether he intends to resign (no reason to) and what his political plans are (he doesn't have any).

Just numbers and policy. What a concept. Kind of bland for the tabloid press, but not a bad thing for New Yorkers.

Not an advocate yet

I don't really have this whole "advocate'' thing down yet.

Today I went to a press conference where the League of Women Voters, for whom I also do a blog, participated.

I suppose my role was to lead the cheers for the member-item-reform bill they were pushing, but of course I did not.

I asked skeptical questions. Why would this pass this year when similar bills have regularly been shot down? How can you persuade Democrats to give more money to Republicans, at their own expense? Are lawmakers really serious about using taxpayer money for pet projects when the state has a yawning ($9 billion) budget gap?

Then when a bunch of good-government lobbyists, including the league's, went later in the day to meet with a legislator about a bill they were pushing, I had no inclination to go along. I can't imagine sitting in on something like that and not hoping for some juicy misstep I could write about or trying to persuade him of the rightness of our cause. So I stayed away.

The column I do for another web site, NYSNYS.COM, gives me a journalistic outlet, and my role with the league as I see it is to keep its members informed about what is going on at the Capitol. So far, I can't see myself as an advocate.

Hub Docs: Keep it Up

BOSTON, MA - For a guy with pancreatic cancer, I'm doing pretty well, two of our docs told us here today.

They were especially pleased that the blood marker for cancer activity continues to fall, while the most recent CT scan shows it hasn't spread beyond the original tumor. You can't hope for much more than that, they both said. One suggested that the radiation treatment I had in November is having a positive effect.

They both agreed that I should continue my current chemo regimen. When Emily suggested that it really hurts my quality of life for a couple of days a week he said, essentially, I should be more grateful just to be alive.

It's a long way to come but it's comforting to have differing opinions on my condition and how to proceed. Their confirmation of what we were told in Albany gives us more confidence that we're doing the right thing.

Plus, I can still get home in time to watch the Siena basketball game on TV tonight.

Second Opinions are Good

SOMERVILLE, MA - We drove to this Boston suburb today in preparation for a couple of doctor visits tomorrow. Want to know why health care is so expensive? Take me for example.

We have a perfectly good oncologist in Albany but we feel better about bouncing the latest test results off our oncologist here as well. And that's completely fine with our insurance company.

Of course, I was operated on here last June, had radiation treatments here and have regularly visited three different docs at Beth Israel Deaconess Hospital.

The radiation treatment I got in November, known as the cyberknife procedure, wasn't available in Albany and Boston is known for its cutting-edge medical technology.

The jury is still out on the effectiveness of the treatment I've received here but it's comforting to know that docs at a top-ranked medical school are on my case.

And of course, coming here gives us an excuse to visit with Ellen and Allyson. It's a nice fringe benefit to my current situation that I wouldn't have if, say, I was being treated at Sloan-Kettering in Manhattan or Johns Hopkins in Baltimore.

Mixed results from new tests

We got a mixed report from the doc today on my latest series of tests.

On the plus side (always good to start there) the blood marker that indicates cancer activity again dropped. In addition, the suspicious growth on my liver that they thought was cancerous last fall has continued to shrink, making it less of a concern.

Also, doc said I looked pretty good and was impressed that I x-country skied a little over the weekend.

The negative thing if that the tumor on my pancreas looked a little bigger. That could mean more cancer, or it could be merely scar tissue from the radiation I had back in November. No way to tell for sure without opening me up again, which is not in the cards.

We're off to Boston Sunday to meet with docs there Monday to see what they think. Preliminary plan is to continue the chemo regime I am on now, since overall the signs are positive. Didn't ever think I'd be happy to go back for more of the same, but that's the perspective I have now.

Traitorous thoughts

I did feel a bit the traitor last night at a meeting for bloggers.

I know, that's what I do now, but when I looked around the meeting room packed with people who provide content to newspapers and other outlets for free, I couldn't help remembering that I used to get paid for doing the same thing.

Well, OK, not quite the same thing. Reporting for newspapers - gathering facts, talking to people, writing it up in a direct, unbiased manner - is different from riffing in cyberspace.

Still, understanding that a quarter of all newspaper jobs have vanished in the last decade even though the public's appetite has never been stronger, gave me pause to be part of the group.

Two panel members, who are very skilled bloggers with relatively large audiences, work for a newspaper that gets a small portion of its revenue from ads on their web sites.

One of the other panel members actually makes a living from advertising he sells on a local blog while the other, like me, does it for a hobby.

The audience was full of enthusiastic amateurs who delight in the chance to express themselves and get feedback from readers, even if they don't know how many and even if it's only a few. We kept hearing that it's a whole new way to have a conversation.

But it is not yet a whole new way to make a living. Crunch time for blogging and on-line information in general is likely to happen in the next year or two, when newspapers start charging people to use their sites - maybe the last chance for them to stay in business.

As my mother used to say in another context, why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free? Those days will likely be over soon for many web surfers.

Warning: watch out for moving cameras

I actually had some empathy for the members of Gov. Paterson's cabinet who emerged from a meeting with him this afternoon.

Exiting the door from the corridor towards the staircase on the second floor of the Capitol, they were confronted by at least a dozen TV camera operators, most of whom turned on their bright lights, and maybe 20 or so reporters, many of whom were shouting questions that the officials as they tried to make their way through the crowd. And of course the questioners weren't interested in their expertise, like the state economy or consumer rights.

"Is he resigning? What did he say?'' some of them yelled at the officials, most of whom just kept their heads down and plowed through the assemblage.

Welcome to a full-throated, blood-in-the-water media frenzy.

Basically, the difference between a big story in Albany and a frenzy is the presence of New York City TV stations, whose representatives tend to bring their own brand of aggressiveness and assertiveness that comes both with their occupations and their places of work. What brought them here today, of course, was the possibility of the imminent resignation of Paterson.

Things can get hairy when the cameras have to move, for they are usually carried on shoulders and the back of them can whack the unwary in the head as the operators pivot. The people holding the cameras also often have to retreat while they're trying to get their shot, which of course means they can't see where they're going, and they have to depend on their on-camera cohorts to help guide them. It's best to stay out of their way. In this case, the camera is mightier than the pen.

At a little past mid-day, the pack was getting restless, since yet another shoe had dropped on Paterson (a new report claiming he took illegal gifts and might have lied under oath) and he had yet to respond.

It seemed possible that the only footage they would get would be state officials coming out of the meeting with Paterson, and thus the unusual insistence that the commissioners say something, almost anything.

But it was not to be. After a half-dozen or so commissioners came out, there was a half-hour lull or so, until one reporter found out that the meeting room was empty. Other participants had apparently slipped out through other entrances.

But soon we learned that Paterson was going to have a meeting with legislative leaders in a couple of hours, and that he would take questions.

That's how things unfolded, although there was palpable disappointment that Paterson showed no inclination of voluntarily leaving office, and in fact vowed to keep working on a new state budget.

Not many notes were scribbled when he was citing numbers about the state's fiscal predicament. But the media horde will continue to be around probably for a while as long as there's a chance the next shoe to drop will knock the governor out of office.

At least the weather looks good

I was eager to get home tonight early to catch the TV weather, but first was bombarded by ads suggesting why the state shouldn't cut any spending this year.

First was a message from the prison-guards' union, which, to ominous music, said closing prisons is dangerous and that the state should first cut unnamed "bureaucrats'' in Albany.

No mention here of the state's declining prison population, a raise the guards are scheduled to get April 1 or studies that show the state-prison administrative structure is not top-heavy.

Then was an ad saying not to cut $1.4 billion from aid to local schools, as Paterson has proposed. Lots of people were saying how important education is.

But no mention of the fact that we already spend more per pupil than any other state and that teachers in most districts are due raises this year and that the cost of keeping their pensions intact is zooming upwards.

Finally, SUNY advocates had their say: no way we can recover from this recession without a trained work force, no way poor people can afford to pay more - and apparently no way SUNY can economize.

I could talk about lengthening the academic year, week and day, but I hate to beat a dead horse.

No health-care ads in this pod, but providers are bound to be heard from as the April 1 budget date draws near.

Anybody want to pass the hat so that taxpayers can get into this game? Oh, almost forgot. Isn't that supposed to be the Legislature's job?

One more note to keep in mind: as the Paterson scandal continues to unfold and pressure mounts on him to leave office, remember the pledge he made only two weeks ago that the only way he would quit before his term was up would be "in a box.'' Keep that in mind the next time you hear a politician bang the lectern and make a promise.

An unpaid tourist brochure

LAKE PLACID - Nothing like being in a tourist town in the off-season, which here must start March 1. No crowds, relatively warm temperatures, modestly priced restaurants.

But still, there is enough of the main attraction here - snow - to make for some nice cross-country skiing, and I was pleased to find out I can do it for an hour and a half and not be totally exhausted. That is enough time to make all of the fun fringes that go along with the sport, like sitting in a hot tub, having wine and cheese and having dinner near a fire, seem to have been at least partly earned.

Of course, that means a little anxiety too.

I was a bit unnerved at the end of our run when I came across a guy getting into his car who was looking at a broken ski pole.

He said he had been thrown off balance by a branch across the trail and had nearly impaled himself on the pole.

"But I'm OK,'' he said, bravely. "That's why I work on my abs when I go to the gym.''

That made me wince a little bit, because my abs still feel tight after my surgery last June, and felt much tighter after the skiing. The surgeon did warn me that it takes a year to recover from abdominal surgery. Glad I didn't have the additional problem of impaling myself on a pole.

It's back to the big city tomorrow, with a planned CT-scan in the afternoon a jolting reminder of my patient status. But it was nice to think about other things for a while.