Ned’s nice triumphs, but pink squirrels only get you so far
I had a college roommate named Fred who reminds me of Ned.
Lamont, that is. Fred and Ned both grew up in WASPy privileged enclaves, and, although this did not spare them the slings and arrows of basic existence, it’s also fair to say that they were catered to a good deal more than you or I have been.
People were nice to them, and their surroundings were also quite nice. And it made them … nice. Some people emerge as crusty snobs from the same pipe- line, but another possible reaction to a life of comfort and affluence is to become good-natured and to expect the world to behave in kind.
Story about Fred: A few years after college we attended a wedding at the country estate of a classmate in Brickerville, Pa., which is located quite near such disturbing towns as
Intercourse, Blue Ball, Reamstown and Bird-inHand, but not really near anything else.
It was an afternoon wedding. In the early evening, we napped and then about 10 of us decided to go out on the town. This was difficult to do in Greater Brickerville, but we eventually found a roadhouse, full of men in wool jackets and caps sporting the names of grain companies, 100 percent of whom were drinking shots and beers.
We, recent Yale graduates, sat down in two booths, where Fred noticed that our place mats had pictures and descriptions of Brandy Alexanders, Grasshoppers and Pink Squirrels.
“I love Brandy Alexanders,” Fred exclaimed. “Let’s order some.”
“Fred,” I cautioned, “they probably bought 10,000 of these place mats cheap. Look around you. They don’t serve stuff like that.”
“They wouldn’t have these place mats if they couldn’t make the drinks,” insisted Fred, who hopped to his feet and went over to the bar where I saw him get into an animated conversation with the barkeep and a waitress.
“We’re going to get beaten up and crushed by farm equipment,” I told the others.
The next thing I saw was Fred and the waitress walking toward us with trays of Brandy Alexan- ders. It turns out they did know how to make all those drinks, but nobody ever asked them to make anything except boilermakers. They were quite tickled to have Fred around.
So it is with Ned. I predict he will try to govern by good nature, which can be quite irresistible.
Case in point, there are roughly 1,200 federal workers in Connecticut who are without pay and ineligible for unemployment comp. In a ponderous, foot-dragging process that apparently consumed all of four hours, Lamont got Webster Bank to agree to give them no-interest pay-cycle loans backed by the full faith and credit of the State of Connecticut.
“We’re happy to do it — it’s simply the right thing to do,” gushed Webster CEO John Ciulla at the proverbial “hastily scheduled press conference.” Happy! Right thing to do! Did it right away! Brandy Alexanders for everybody!
But soft you now, for yonder sits the state Legislature, and the Republicans therein will surely gaze with ill humor at a Democratic governor offering no-interest loans. Let us spy and see what foul epithet they will direct at Ned.
“The proposed temporary support is a clever and unique way to leverage a partnership to help those in need,’’ said Senate Republican leader Len Fasano.
Hey, can I get a tech person in here? There’s something wrong with my laptop! Niceness is coming out of the Republicans! Of course, Fasano is one thing.
His House counterpart is quite another. Don’t let the white dress and the animal print Jimmy Choos fool you, Ned. Themis Klarides is a ruthless Dothraki horse lord born in the wrong place and time.
NED: “Hey diddly ho, nice lady! Let’s play a game called ‘what’s special about you and why!’ ”
THEMIS: “You are weak. Tonight my dogs and I will eat your liver cooked over a fire of dead snakes.”
There’s something infectious about Lamont’s can-do sunniness, but it’s best suited for relatively simple situations. In his inaugural address, he beamed around the packed joint session and exclaimed, “Let’s fix the damn budget, once and for all!”
“Alex, I’ll take Legislative Responses for $400.”
“And the answer is ‘Slap their foreheads and yell: Why didn’t we think of that?’ ”
“What is: Something none of the 187 legislators did?”
“And you’re back in the plus column.”
Which is to say, at a certain point, Lamont is going to need more than back-slapping and Pink Squirrels. But, really, for now, who even wants to think about that?