Things have always been rocky for Paterson since he was thrust into the governor's office when Eliot Spitzer was forced to admit a penchant for high-priced call girls. (Hey, better than low-priced street walkers, right? No? Okay then.) From day one it was a dubious start, what with the revelations that he dabbled now and again in both the booger sugar and extramarital dalliances. And then there was the whole Senate coup that jeopardized the Democrat's control of both the Assembly and the State Senate. And the entire budget proceedings have been a total mess.
And pretty much from the time he took office, Paterson has had to defend his seat from potential contenders, opportunistic political sharks who smell the blood in the water, and are circling the governor's manse in Albany measuring the windows for curtains and checking to make sure all of their furniture will fit in the parlor.
And then there was (and still is) the recent Aqueduct debacle, with allegations that the choice of AEG to operate the lucrative racino was nothing more than a little political back-scratching at best, a backroom deal to make well-connected individuals rich, at worst. We'll have to let the Feds straighten that one out.
That's already a pretty rough go at it for your first year or so, but now that pesky New York Times is letting rumors circulate that it has the grandaddy of all Paterson stories, facts so salacious that were they to make it into print their revelation would be so explosive, Paterson would have no choice but to curl up in the fetal position and rock back and forth, quietly muttering "mommy, mommy," until folks in white lab coats pulled up in their van and carted him off. At the very least, he would have to resign.
We have to tell you, goslings, were it us, we would have thrown in the towel if people began to just speculate that we admitted to being big fans of the Twilight movie, but that we had never actually read the books and were just jumping on the vampire bandwagon to impress a twenty-something goth girl who works at the local Starbucks, let alone all of the tribulations Paterson has been forced to endure.
But Paterson is a tougher cookie than Pol Position can ever hope to be. Tales of his physical prowess abound not only in Albany, but across this great country, like the time he created the Rocky Mountains locking horns with his great ox, or how he created the Great Lakes while wandering aimlessly in a blinding white blizzard. Or was that Paul Bunyan?
Anyway, Paterson's pretty tough, as evidenced by his quotes in recent weeks about his eminent demise. Take this recent quote for example:
“The only way I’m not going to be governor next year is at the ballot box. The only way that I’ll be leaving office before then is in a box.”
Whoa, if we didn't know any better, we would have thought that was a Clint Eastwood quote from The Outlaw Josey Wales, or at least Every Which Way But Loose. And then there's this nugget:
"I'm running for governor in 2010, and anyone that thinks they're bad enough to beat me better get in soon because they're running out of time."
Please Hammer, don't hurt 'em!
Anyway, we like the tough love from the tough gov. We're looking forward to an all-out brawl come this fall.