Well, interesting. I’d guess about 100 220 people turned out though, judging from the cars honking as they passed by on Field Point Road, there are a lot of people fed up with being cash cows for the undeserving. Funny thing that I forgot to mention in my own impromptu speech: there was a comedian who, after four ruinously expensive divorces declared that the next time he felt the urge to get married he’d just find a woman he hated and buy her a house instead. The line gets laughs, but that’s what Congress is doing, only we don’t even know the people they’re buying houses for on our behalf. Hmmm.
Roger Pearson, atoning before challenging Dodd
Perhaps the most affecting speakers were the duo of Democrats Roger Pearson and Frank Farricker, Former First Selectman and candidate for that position, respectively, dressed in sackcloth and ashes and beating their breasts. “If I had known that the people I was hanging around with were nothin’ but a bunch of commie rats,” Farricker said, tears rolling down his eyes, “I would never have done it – I just didn’t know better, and I’m sick about it.” Farricker was seen signing a Ron Paul petition while as we left, Pearson was clutching an unlicensed handgun and his expired Police Commissioner’s badge in one hand, a copy of Atlas Shruggedin the other, and asking directions to Chris Dodd’s Greenwich office. Easy there, big guy, and careful with that gun!
Well, off to file a tax extension!
Who knew? At least one reader has suggested that we throw one here in Greenwich but I wasn’t so inclined, partly because my protest days went by sometime in 1970 or so and also because I figured Greenwich taxpayers protesting taxes would be so stereotypical that we’d be the laughing stock of the country.
But I’m reconsidering: the people rallying at these events are exactly the type who don’t “do” protests, and in view of the main stream media’s studied refusal to cover these demonstrations, maybe the magic name of Greenwich, plus the concept of the geese that lay the golden eggs threatening to go on strike would force the press to take notice. Maybe.
In the meantime, here’s a picture of the Stamford protest. I’m astonished to see Democrat activist and local politician Frank Farricker there. He’s the one in the pink bunny suit. The bicyclist way, way back on the fringe? Franklin Bloomer.
You wouldn’t know it from the online version of Greenwich Time but, as reported here yesterday, the P&Z turned down the plan for a park at the old NHRR power plant site. Greenwich Post has a brief mention of the story (they don’t add permalinks to their articles, for some reason, but check under “local news”). Three commissioners were in favor, 2 opposed, which kills the deal. Frank Farricker, who did not say what I said he did yesterday (just kidding, Frank) opposed the plans because of concern over the toxic residues in the soil and the lighting proposed for the park. Seems to me that “experts” said the dirt was okay and as for lights, I wonder if Mr. Farricker has ever looked just down the street from the proposed park and seen that highway overhead. I-95 is pretty darn bright, except when sections of it lie under the Mianus, and a few more candlepower in the neighborhood would only serve to make it easier to find the earplugs so helpful in shutting out the noise of truck traffic on I-95.
So what’s happening with the failed Antares projects near Western Junior High? A reader wanted to know and so I asked my friend Frank Farricker who knows everything about local real estate news and is always an unimpeachable source of information unless you want to know (a) how many houses will sell this year (Frank, we will sell more than fifty – really) or (b) politics. Frank was dropped on his head repeatedly as a baby and as the result became a Democrat. We love and cherish him anyway and of course, pray for his soul (in fact, I voted for him when he ran for First Selectman, but that was only because I thought the job would keep him off the streets and out of trouble). Here’s what he says happened to the Antares’ dream of becoming residential kings:
The buildings are owned by Lehman Brothers, who, in its most simplistic form, took the property back in December, 2007. They then hired a company called RADCO (www.radco.us) to execute a “turnaround” strategy. RADCO only turned around Putnam Green, in which there was a significant expense to fix up apartments and rent. I understand they are about 60% full, with rents hovering in the $3-$4000 a month range.
They just left Weavers Hill alone along with the 15 or so senior tenants that beat Antares. There was a rumor that it was for sale, but that was knocked down by Marsal and Alvarez, the bankruptcy trustee charged with disposing of Lehman assets. They will probably begin the cleanup to Weavers Hill soon, then when it is finished they will try to sell $2 million condominiums, because there is no other logical way it makes sense to pour another $50 million into something that has already lost $360 million. Yes, between the purchase, the fees, the construction, the marketing, the lawyers, the new operators with their construction, marketing, fees and lawyers $360 million has been poured into those two projects.
I’m not the real estate whiz that Frank is but if those condos ever sell for anything close to $2 million, I’ll give up the practice and go back to lawyering, a horrible fate indeed.
Local politicians displayed a blithe ignorance of the troubles of their neighbors this past week while gorging on stuffed swan, swallow tails and entire roast oxen at La Scala. “Who’s Walt Noel?”, Frank Farricker mumbled around a mouthful of turkey drumstick. When told that Walter and his wife Monica had been evicted from their Round Hill cottage and were now living in an unheated hut across the street Frank pretended a moment of concern. “Is he one of the caddies up at my club? Well, geeze, that’s too bad, but I thought that type went south for the winter. What is he, senile or sumptin?” He then returned to a discussion on raising taxes on the rich with Goldman Sachs alumnus Jim Hines. “S’go away,” he told this reporter. “We got work to do.”