Sex and the single guv has N.Y. abuzz

Perhaps you’re wondering what the heck is going on with Andrew Cuomo.

Of course you are. You’ve been in deeply dull pandemic lockdown for more than a year. And now, here’s a drama involving politics, ethics, sex and remorse featuring one of the biggest political names in the country. In which citizens are challenged to decide whether, say, kissing a female subordinate on the mouth after a private meeting could count as a “customary way of greeting.”

Can I hear you say “Nah”? Cuomo was the hero of an earlier stage of the pandemic — the truth-telling, Trump-challenging star who won an Emmy for his daily coronavirus briefings. Remember when you deliberately tuned in to watch the New York governor show you a bunch of charts?

But wow, how fast things changed. It turns out the stellar accomplishments Cuomo was pointing to every day were, um, fudged. Somewhat. The question was whether a nursing home patient who is hospitalized and dies from COVID19 counts as a nursing home fatality. Obviously, if you’re the patient’s family, that doesn’t matter a heck of a lot. But if you’re a governor trying to demonstrate how well you oversee the nursing homes, it’s a big deal.

Cuomo’s star power was dimmed, for people who were paying attention. But this new scandal has gotten everybody’s interest. New York has a long record of this kind of political crisis. In 1881, enemies of Sen. Thomas Platt managed to grab a hotel room next to the one where Platt was having an assignation.

Much, much later, Gov. Eliot Spitzer resigned from office after voters learned he was an enthusiastic patron of prostitutes. (That was only 13 years ago, but gee, it seems like forever.)

Spitzer was succeeded by Lt. Gov. David Paterson. A day after he was sworn in, Paterson and his wife announced they had both had extramarital affairs.

There were also lots of terrible/embarrassing/cringe-worthy stories on the lower rungs, many based on the theme that nothing that happens in Albany counts back home.

Part of the problem is that New York has had a pathetic record of putting women in high office. We’ve elected only seven to statewide jobs, none of them governor. Maybe this will help change that pattern. If it does, credit goes first to the women who came forward to tell their stories, knowing the governor had control of the party in which they were trying to make their careers.

Charlotte Bennett, a young former aide, told The New York Times that when she was alone in an office with Cuomo, he started asking unnerving questions about her personal life and volunteered that he was open to relationships with women in their 20s.

Lindsey Boylan, who is running for Manhattan borough president, reported that once, as she was leaving Cuomo’s office when she was his aide, “he stepped in front of me and kissed me on the lips. I was in shock, but I kept walking.”

Anna Ruch, who worked in Democratic politics, met the governor at a wedding, exchanged pleasantries and then felt his hand on her lower back. Ruch removed said hand.

Cuomo held a news conference in which he confessed only to having “made others feel in ways I never intended.” In a perfect world, he might have added: “You know, it’s a tough time right now, and part of it for me is realizing how I can really be a jerk with women.”