Golisano's Guru

Tom Golisano isn’t romantic. Not about life and not about public service, although it’s easy to think that only a man in love with civics would run for governor three times. But warm, mushy feelings are hard to find in the frozen tundra of Rochester, especially if you spend your day running a payroll processing business. In fact, that clear, cold worldview was alive and well back when he proposed to his first wife. In a documentary shown on Buffalo TV in 2003, his first wife, Gloria Austin, recalled that when he proposed to her in college, he said, “If we got together, I think we could be very successful.” They were… after they divorced and she bought into his company. They’re much better friends and business partners, according to their daughter.

That search for something “very successful” might not have worked on the first try in his marriage (he goes out with a cute brunette now), and it certainly didn’t work on his first run for governor on the Independence line in 1994, his first run for any elected office. He lost every county, including the one he lives in.

In 2002, when Golisano last ran for governor, he got more upstate votes than the Liberal, Conservative, Working Families and Green parties combined; more votes in the city than any of those parties, and bested the Democratic ticket in a third of the state’s counties. He even beat George Pataki in a fight for the Independence Party nomination by a little more than 500 votes—the governor’s first lost in any election, and one in which the two men spent a combined $40 million.

Helping fuel Golisano’s rise—from four percent of the vote in 1994 to eight percent in 1998 to 14 percent in 2002—was Pataki’s uninspiring leadership and Golisano’s billion-dollar personal fortune. After three runs, Golisano seems to have taken the Independence Party as far as it can take him—think of it as the Wal-Mart of third parties: bigger than all its competitors combined, but not yet able to penetrate Gotham.

Since that 2002 race, the political wannabe has worked to raise his profile, donating $14 million to the Rochester Institute of Technology, the largest gift the school has ever received. He’s also expanded from the exciting world of payroll services—where he made his fortune—and bought the NHL’s floundering Buffalo Sabres for $92 million, vastly raising his upstate profile.

When Golisano emerges from his Palm Springs hideaway next week to launch his fourth gubernatorial campaign, he’ll run not only as a member of the New York State Independence Party, which he founded and bankrolled, but also as a Republican.

“Approximately a month ago Senator John McCain called me and made a convincing case that I could be a more effective advocate for reform as a Republican,” Golisano said in a letter last October, when he switched parties, to the one he’s been bashing for over a decade.

Internal warfare between conservative ideologues and pragmatic career politicians hasn’t been smoothed out by the GOP’s highest official, the always-distracted Governor Pataki (anybody wanna visit Iowa again? How about fundraising in New Hampshire on the eve of the next transit strike? We can take my helicopter). When the governor spends as little time as humanly possible in the state capital (a place that’s famous for looking it’s best in the rear-view mirror), people like Senate Majority Leader Joe Bruno are left behind to run the day-to-day mismanagement of Albany. The split between Pataki, the outgoing head of the Republican Party, and Bruno, the soon-to-be big dog, has left the party in disarray, and opened the door to Golisano, who’s willing to send out checks as fast as his payroll processing company can cut them. While the deal hasn’t closed yet, the newfound affection between Golisano and the GOP is already showing signs of paying off.

“The Independence Party office is my Honda Odyssey van,” said one of the state party’s vice-chairmen, Tom Connolly, behind the wheel on his way home from a Rochester fundraiser. “We’re a big-scale party. Very, very upward moving.”

Then again, if the founder flirts with other parties, why should anyone else stay around?

For now, the euphoria of another Golisano campaign has Independence members giddy. Remembering Golisano’s 2002 Independence Party primary, Connolly said, “I swear to God, it was the greatest mail program I have ever experienced as either a voter or someone who put together mail programs. I never saw mail like that. Golisano’s mail, just unbelievable.” That’s some mail.

Even a spokeswoman for the party’s NYC chapter—which is under the leadership of Lenora Fulani, chief acolyte of deranged, patient-fucking therapist, polygamist and cult leader Fred Newman, and which was kicked off the state party’s executive board last year with Golisano’s approval—said they would support him if he is their party’s choice. Another Gotham supporter created a Draft Golisano website, where visitor comments ranged from “New York State needs you!” to “Tom, you’re going to heaven.” (Which, my sources tell me, is nowhere near Albany).

Republicans are less giddy about supporting a man who’s made his political career, such as it’s been, running against mismanagement of Albany. When Golisano tried, errrr, adjusting his position after registering as a member of the Grand Old Party, Democrats rejoiced. The Democratic State Party noted Golisano’s newer, friendly view of Pataki “amounts to 18 flip-flops and two straight days of reversals—and he’s not even a candidate yet.” They went on to quote Golisano calling Pataki “irresponsible,” and “embarrassing,” and even comparing the governor to Stalin.

And how did Stalin run New York? Like “a special interest trust fund,” Golisano once said. But it’s Golisano at the wheel now. With his money, increased credibility and popularity upstate, it’s his move now, and the Republican leadership has been reduced to backseat drivers, waiting for a chance to respond.

Pataki naturally wants to see a Republican successor but has kept his criticism of the man who financed three campaigns against him to a dull roar. Pataki’s first pick for governor, Jeanine Pirro, opted to run for Senate against Hillary Clinton instead. But even against the most hated women in Republican America, Pirro could barely raise a dime. Now, as an attorney general candidate, she could probably use some of Golisano’s money.

Senate Majority Leader Joseph Bruno is sitting with his cheeks clenched on a narrow five-seat majority in what could be the only branch of state government Republicans will hold after November. A Golisano-size contribution to the Republican Senate Campaign Committee could do wonders for Bruno’s tension.

State Republican Chairman Stephen Minarik, who hails from the same county as Golisano, is one possible Golisano convert. Minarik could find salvation in Golisano’s self-made-man story, especially since there is a financial scandal swirling around Minarik’s first choice, Bill Weld.

A less likely convert is State Conservative Party Chairman Michael Long, who didn’t see the conservative message in Golisano’s Pataki-bashing ads from previous campaigns. No Republican has won statewide in years without that big C next to their name. And that little party has a history of leaving liberal Republicans out in the cold (just Google Howard Mills).

One supporter Golisano isn’t likely to get rid of, no matter how much he tries is Fulani. Although she backed Pataki over Golisano in the past, she always backs the Independent Party movement, even when the people she endorsees don’t want her support.

For some Republicans, switching parties and becoming a born-again Republican instantly cleansed Golisano of his previous political sins. Loyal Republicans like John Faso are still guilty of that unforgivable sin: poverty. Faso has about $1 million for his race so far; the richer, more liberal Bill Weld has $1.8 million. Spitzer has $19.1 million. (Spitzer’s primary opponent, Tom Suozzi, raised more than $1 million in about two weeks.)

Behind the wheel is a candidate with the money to campaign Bloomberg-style, from Flatbush to Plattsburgh. His onboard GPS navigation system had been a pair of odd bedfellows: Steve Pigeon, a former Erie Democratic county leader who was overthrow in a power play in 2002, and Roger Stone, a Republican op-researcher who’s been forced to publicly deny visiting sex clubs with his wife and also denied leading a violent mob that helped shut-down the 2000 recount in Florida. From their not-so moderate perspective, they were able to craft a “centrist” message: lower taxes (right), more money for schools (left) and same-day voter registration (uh, anybody want this one?). Or, more succinctly: the crooks in Albany suck and they’re ripping you off. Who could argue with that?

But missing from this ride is the man who created the roadmap that convinced Golisano to grab the wheel in the first place.

The Politics of American Discontent “was the book that influenced Golisano to run,” said Independence State Party Chairman Frank MacKay. “That was the influence. That’s what encouraged him. It laid out the argument. He made a run due to that book.”

The author is Gordon Black, a longtime Golisano friend and Rochester pollster who shared the skeptical zeal of his buddy. How deep was that skepticism? In a documentary about Golisano, longtime friend Gary Muxworty recalled “sitting around with our wives, a bunch of young couples, when Golisano said, ‘Do you believe everything the government tells you?’ He had to be in his early 20s when he made that statement.”

Times haven’t changed. In that same 2003 documentary, produced by a public TV station in Buffalo, Golisano holds a stack of paper and tells the host, “Do you know I can’t find the New York State budget dollar amount in this document? If this was a public corporation, the comptroller and governor would be in jail for not releasing adequate financial information.” Although the documentary was produced and aired after his 2002 race, Golisano adds, “I’m fighting this battle trying to get this resolved.”

But that battle is a lost cause, according to Black, who convinced not only Golisano but Ross Perot and Jesse “The Body” Ventura to run as independent candidates.

When reached at his St. Thomas home, Black noted the one overwhelming flaw of Perot’s candidacy. “He didn’t understand that the reason we run deficits—massive, overwhelming deficits—in American politics, at all levels by the way, is that the people who run for office have to pay off the interests that fund their elections.”

“The deficit was not some irresponsible behavior on the part of people,” said Black. “It was a direct product of the incentive system of funding your campaign from interests that want money from the government.”

Black, who ran Golisano’s first campaign, said, “I’ve never heard him make a statement in politics that led me to believe he understood that fundamental issue. Perot did, but I never thought Tom did.”

That difference only got worse when folks like Stone and Erick Mullen, hired admen, signed up for the 1994 campaign.

“I took off three months and supposedly ran the campaign. But I really didn’t run the campaign; the advertising agency ran the campaign. The advertising agency had absolutely no idea what’s motivating the American voters or New York voters. And Tom liked the slickness of the ads and he liked sounding like a fiscal conservative, and I thought that made him just into a Republican in New York State. They all like to sound like fiscal conservatives. Not a very pleasant experience. It was very frustrating.”

How frustrating?

“I wanted to get out of New York,” Black said. “I hated New York. I hated New York, and I finally concluded I wasn’t going to be able to change it. So I decided I wanted to come some place that wasn’t New York.”

As for his protégés: Perot is happily a private citizen again, quietly giving away his fortune; “The Body” opted not to run for re-election as an Independent Party governor, and Golisano is days away from running as a Republican.

While explaining Golisano’s place in the pantheon of America’s independent politicians, Black was briefly interrupted by a person in his St. Thomas home. Through the phone, the father of America’s independent movement was heard saying, “I’m on a long distance phone call. Nothing serious.”