No tears shed for state broadcast network

I’m not crying over the apparent demise of the General Assembly’s propaganda arm, called CT-N.

It’s the self-inflicted victim of broadcast creep, pleading poverty with $877,451 in the bank, according to its latest IRS statement.

Once dedicated to simply televising the General Assembly and its committees, the Connecticut Public Affairs Network grew and grew, after it was anointed by then-Senate President Kevin Sullivan back in 1999.

In response to their expanding telegenic opportunities, lawmakers became even more pompous, bloviating their under-informed monologues and colloquies for over-extended periods, to the dubious benefit of the state’s insomniacs and policy wonks.

Over the years, CT-N’s playpen expanded to include more exotic locations and assignments. One of the chief beneficiaries has been Gov. Dannel P. Malloy, whose frenetic tours of the state were often streaming on the web, or recorded for later.

Now, the Connecticut Public Affairs Network is essentially kicked out of the Capitol after rejecting a temporary deal for $5,000 a day in expenses, pending further negotiations in this year of the budget crisis. While singing the monetary blues, CPAN claimed that the General Assembly was attempting to take over editorial control of its coverage.

As CT-N defaulted last week into a death loop of a never-ending two-hourand-22-minute meeting of the state Board of Firearms Permit Examiners, Gov. Dan Malloy even jumped on his high horse, promising the find $400,000 toward the $1.6 million haircut that the new state budget took toward CPAN’s previous $3.2 million budget. He asked for the legislative and judicial branches to find similar amounts.

Going over 15 years of CPAN’s IRS 990 filings for non-profit organizations, we see that President and CEO Paul Giguere’s compensation was $107,071 in 2002. In 2016, CPAN reported that he was paid $161,587 plus $23,672 in benefits. The organization spent more than $25,000 in lobbying expenses. They paid out about $2.1 million for the more than 30 other employees, about a dozen of whom — pawns in this game with real technical skills — are in the process of becoming temporary workers for the Connecticut General Assembly, until bids go out to continue the operation. There is a roomful of video equipment in the first floor of the Legislative Office Building, dozens of stationary cameras throughout the Capitol complex and equipment for remote recording.

Back in 2015, when Giguere made $143,050 in salary and $24,385 in benefits, CPAN asked the General Assembly, unsuccessfully, for about $8 million. Last year it tried to piggyback on Connecticut cable bills and require every subscriber in the state to cough up 40 cents more per month for its state-designated monopoly, or another cool million bucks a year. Anyone familiar with cable bills know that charges eventually increase and are never reduced. The failed legislation was written to limit contract eligibility to a company with “experience in providing gavel-to-gavel coverage of state government proceedings.” Yeah it was pretty much dialed-in for CPAN.

One thing CPAN did, was allow reporters to be in multiple locations at the same time.

So after a week of checking on CT-N’s website with no change, it was finally time to check in with that Nov. 2 meeting of the state Board of Firearms Permit Examiners, held in the headquarters of the Department of Emergency Services and Public Protection in Middletown. The board hears the cases of people who once lost their gun permits and now they’re trying to get them back.

An attorney named Donald Celotto was in an uphill struggle, after his client, a dude from Cheshire wearing a mullet, admitted that he did not include his entire criminal history, in particular a 1994 domestic incident, on his application to be reinstated. Cheshire Police Chief Neil Dryfe was there in opposition. Celotto said that a different, 2001 domestic, in which, according to a board member, the dude threatened to kill his girlfriend, then threw something at a wall with the woman’s 6-year-old nearby, was reduced to breach of peace.

“The victim’s testimony in a police report is hearsay,” Celotto said. “It went through the court system with trained assistant state’s attorney and judges, and it was adjudicated as a breach of peace... But under the circumstances that prevail for an allegation contained in a police report, is very serious on its face, to result in a breach-ofpeace plea, I think puts the underlying circumstances in a far-less grave light than the lurid reading of it. I don’t question the urgency of law enforcement to respond to such a thing, but the conviction resulted in a breach of peace violation.”

The mullet finally got a chance to talk. “This is stemming from a relationship from the past,” he said. “I have learned a lot since then.” Celotto described his client, who was not named, as “steadfast” with good conduct for 16 or 17 years. “I don’t think he’s very sophisticated,” Celotto said. “I do feel he has come in good faith and contrition.”

Not exactly scintillating TV.

KEN DIXON