published in Artvoice (cover story)

Last Saturday afternoon a crowd of about 15 people gathered on the east side of Niagara Square’s traffic circle and did the same thing they’ve been doing in that space for a year now: holding a General Assembly for Occupy Buffalo. Once the meeting was called and the chatter of the various conversations subsided, a paper bag stuffed full of ginger-molasses cookies was passed around the circle and the members began planning their one-year anniversary, coming this weekend.

When Occupy Buffalo was evicted from Niagara Square in an early morning roundup on February 2, the Buffalo Police followed the “shock and awe” mold of action made popular by the same war the occupiers were motivated to protest, storming the square with dozens of squad cars and SWAT vehicles. By morning all that was left was a geodesic dome on loan from a supporter, which Occupy Buffalo successfully lobbied police to save from the payloaders and dumptrucks that followed the police cars.

Though they no longer occupy the square, Occupy Buffalo members continue to attend to their core issues of economic justice and political corruption in a variety of venues: They’ve been escorted out of NFTA board meetings for speaking out of turn (which is easy to do because the NFTA does not allow public comment in board meetings); they’ve pushed for IDA reform at Buffalo’s Central Library (and drew a phalanx of interested parties from the Erie County Sheriff’s office); they’ve protested the military’s use of drones at a National Guard base outside of Syracuse (and been arrested for their troubles); they’ve pressed State Senator Mark Grisanti on his calculated ambivalence to fracking; and they’ve been an active voice in the otherwise sleepy chambers of the Buffalo Common Council.

In other words, Occupy Buffalo has been fully exercising their muscle in participatory democracy. And they’ve seen results. The NFTA has recently made changes to become more responsive to the public, and IDA reform has become a hot-button issue taken up by Erie County Executive Mark Poloncarz.

John Washington (pictured at top), who serves as something of an unofficial spokesperson for the group, sees a link between the old and new phases of the movement.

“Living in Niagara Square for that period, and to be immersed in a group of people that’s organizing to create change, really shows you how powerful you can be,” Washington said. “[We’ve] seen that in the Common Council meetings, where 10 or 15 people just showing up can result in $45 million being pulled out of a big bank.”

Last spring, under criticism from Occupy Buffalo, Buffalo Comptroller Mark Schroeder divested 10 percent of the city’s holdings from JP Morgan Chase, a national bank with layers of undesirable odors and few local employees, and moved the money into the local First Niagara Bank.

But Occupy isn’t settling there. They’ve set their sights on the remaining $400 million still being held in a JP Morgan Chase account, and it appears Masten District Councilman Demone Smith is on board. Smith has drafted a “Responsible Banking Act” for the City of Buffalo.

The cover page of the proposed legislation somewhat clumsily states it will allow the city to “strategize absolutely with financial institutions through their Community Reinvestment Act effort to partner with the city in rebuilding areas of the city which have been marginalized or neglected,” and that it “also allows us to divest from financial institutions that have shown to be irresponsible in their own dealings which have spurned public outrage.”

Smith, for his part, welcopmes expressions of public outrage in the chambers and supports Occupy’s presence, crediting the occupiers for working on needed banking reforms and bringing intelligence and insight into Common Council meetings. “We agree more than we disagree,” Smith offered.

Delaware District Councilman Michael LoCurto shared similar sentiments: “They raise awareness of issues with the Council and the city. In the case of their advocacy regarding JP Morgan, they affected policy.”

Wary of the potential for law enforcement to use drones domestically, Occupy Buffalo and the Western New York Peace Center called for the Common Council to become the first city in the United States to ban the use of drones in its airspace this past August. The law enforcement issue hits incredibly close to home for members of Occupy, who were closely monitored by the Department of Homeland Security. A recent FOIL request by Occupy’s attorneys, Michael Kuzma and Brian Daire Irwin, was answered by 13 pages of email correspondence from the United States Coast Guard that went on to pretty much conclude that the movement posed “low/negligible threat to USCG personnel or interests.” Both the occupiers and their lawyers believe there’s more surveillance yet to be released.

“I think it’s ridiculous,” Washington said in a phone conversation. “Anyone who understands how the Department of Homeland Security, the FBI, even local police departments work…when you have a group of 75 to 150 activists in a public circle with a Facebook page, a website, and holding open meetings, I mean, the idea that all you have is 13 pages from the Coast Guard is absolutely ridiculous to me.”

The absurdity of Coast Guard’s involvement in monitoring what its own document, provided toArtvoice by Occupy Buffalo, calls an “overwhelmingly peaceful” protest isn’t lost on the Coast Guard personnel. One email dated for January 20, 2012 reads:

I have reviewed the “Occupy” websites for Cleveland, Erie, Buffalo, and Rochester and have not found any evidence that these groups are planning any solidarity protests, or are even aware of the planned west-coast actions. My assessment is that the probability of solidarity protests…is LOW.

Whether the Coast Guard is still watching Occupy Buffalo or not, it probably won’t keep them and others—like the Western New York Peace Center, the Coalition for Economic Justice, and various labor unions—from pressing forward as lobbyists for the people who can’t afford to hire their own. Members are looking for the movement to evolve into focused areas of activism, where members draw from the pool of consensus within the group to work on individual topics—for example, student loan debt.

This weekend, as Occupy Buffalo celebrates its first anniversary with events in and around Niagara Square (where else?), the movement wants to remind everyone that the tents might be gone but the occupiers are still here. They might be done, for now, with occupying space, but they’re resolutely focused on the long game.

Say it Ain’t Sloma wearing his colonial wig.

published in Artvoice on May 17, 2012

The bill sponsored by State Senator George Maziarz and Assemblyman Robin Schimminger to create a new seat on the Niagara Frontier Transportation Authority’s much-beleaguered board has now passed both the Assembly and the Senate. The bill itself, however, is a compromised version of what transportation advocates have been calling for, which is voting representation for the people who actually use the transit system.

The bill sitting on Governor Andrew Cuomo’s desk will provide only a non-voting seat on the NFTA’s board of commissioners for a member of the “transit dependent and/or disabled community.”

The press statement released by one such advocacy group, the New York State Transportation Equity Alliance, strikes a conciliatory tone:

This bill marks an important first step towards filling gaps in the NFTA board. However, if riders are to have their system be truly accountable to their needs, then they must be treated as full members at the table. We look forward to carrying this momentum to ensure that riders are meaningfully represented at the table with a vote.

It appears that riders have been thrown a bone; time will tell if the bone satiates the growing appetite for a more responsive “public benefit” agency.

Statewide groups like NYSTEA and local groups like VOICE Buffalo hope that this will not lessen the political will for a more substantial change in the way New York’s transportation authorities operate. In other words, they intend to wield the power of the poet Charles Olson’s lines: “What does not change/is the will to change.”

In other Albany news, Howard Zemsky was officially confirmed by the Senate as the NFTA’s new chairman. As Zemsky currently enjoys widespread respect from the community, and appears energized to remove the NFTA from the real estate business, this would appear to be a second positive step in as many weeks for the authority.

Two steps may lead to a leap forward should the state legislature find a way to resolve the chronic expired terms and vacancies on the NFTA board. There is currently one vacancy on the board, as well as four commissioners with expired terms serving actively on the board. The agency has been forced to navigate the broken roads of a financial crisis due to diminished state funding and rising operational costs, all while being effectively compromised in its leadership.

One of those expired terms belongs to Henry Sloma, the now former acting chairman who presided over two fare hikes in three years while being hesitant and then unable to pry from his home county of Niagara a fair share of tax revenue to match the percentage formula Erie County has provided to the NFTA for years.

The NFTA’s website today lists Zemsky as chairman and Sloma, whose term expired two years ago, as the vice chairman. The title of vice chairman, it should be noted, did not exist until Zemsky’s appointment, and is nowhere to be found in the state law that defines the NFTA.

You know what they say about taking two steps forward.

When comparing the legislation that defines New York’s four upstate transportation authorities, the theme that emerges is that one of these things is not quite like the other, one of these things just doesn’t belong.

If you thought the NFTA’s aviation and real estate responsibilities were the only thing separating them from the other quasi-governmental public-benefit corporations in the state, well, you have at least one more thing coming.

It turns out the systems operating in the Rochester, Syracuse, and Albany metro areas have much different mechanisms in place to provide local input into the composition of their governing boards. All authority commissioners are appointed ultimately by the governor; the difference lies in how the governor is allowed to pick the appointee.

Here’s the rundown:

• The Capitol District Transportation Authority currently has an eight-member board of voting directors, three of whom are appointed from a list of six provided by Albany County; the majority party in the legislature nominates four people, the minority party two. The legislatures of the surrounding counties (Schenectady, Rensselaer, Saratoga) serviced by the CDTA have a similar provision carved into the law: Each receives a total of two seats that are chosen from four submitted names—three for the majority party, one for the minority. (Currently, Schenectady has only one representative.)

• The CNYRTA-Centro board members are appointed in a similar but slightly less confusing process. The City of Syracuse provides the governor with six names for three seats, Onondaga County provides 10 names for five seats, and Oneida County submits four names for two seats. Information from the Centro website indicates only one representative of the City of Syracuse but an additional seat each for Cayuga and Oswego County.

• Moving westward, the RGRTA works very similarly to Centro. The City of Rochester submits six names for three seats while Monroe County submits eight for four. Additional counties have the ability to recommend two names for one seat. Currently the 12-member board represents seven counties in addition to the City of Rochester.

• Finally, the NFTA. The NFTA’s board is comprised of one chairman, one non-voting representative of the labor union that represents many of the NFTA’s employees, and 10 commissioners. Of those ten, only two are appointed with any formal local input at all. One name is submitted for one seat by the Erie County Executive, and one name is submitted for one seat by the Erie County Legislature. (The county executive’s seat, per Mark Poloncarz’s office, is the currently vacant seat, and the legislature’s pick is James Eagan, one of four members of the board whose term is expired.)

Everywhere else in the state, 100 percent of the governing boards of transportation authorities comprise people recommended by the municipalities they represent. Locally, the number is 20 percent.

At stake for the NFTA, of course, is the prospect of replacing one political process with another, more localized one. Some might ask what the difference may be.

One consistent advocate of the NFTA’s riders, Assemblyman Sean Ryan, sees a distinct advantage in the way upstate’s other transportation authorities are governed. “We need to have more people on our board who are more connected to the local community,” he says.

Imagine a restructured NFTA board with three members who represent the city, five members who represent Erie County, and two members who represent Niagara County. As it stands, the NFTA’s board of commissioners has little public accountability. There’s no easy way, for example, for anyone in the public to access any of them.

Ryan contends that things could be different: “In many ways it would make them more answerable to the local community,” he says. “Just by virtue of being on the scene, closer, and understanding how their constituents use transportation services. I was surprised to see how all the other transportation authorities do it, and ours really sticks out.”

Ryan is not in favor of a proposal by State Senator George Maziarz and Assemblyman Robin Schimminger to put a non-voting seat representing disabled/transit dependent riders on the NFTA board. “While I agree with the sentiment of this bill, I do not think it goes far enough,” he says. “I think we need to be the first one in the state to have a voting, full board member who actually rides the bus. We’re out of whack with the way the rest of the transportation authorities put their boards together.”

Expect future legislation asking for the NFTA to borrow some organizational pointers from its neighbors.

Article appeared in Artvoice on Thursday May 3, 2012.

classy throwback logo would look good on a ballcap

One quality for which transportation agencies like the Niagara Frontier Transportation Authority have been stridently criticized by community groups throughout the state has been their ability to restrict and organizationally ignore comments, concerns, and input from the their ridership.

There are five heavily acronymed New York State transportation authorities (think major cities: Buffalo’s NFTA, Rochester’s RGRTA, Syracuse’s CNYRTA or Centro, Albany’s CDTA, New York City’s MTA), and each is managed by a board of commissioners appointed by the sitting governor. If you imagine that a governor would ever consider appointing to such a board a low-income mother who rides the bus to her job, well then bless your heart, that’s very sweet. Rest assured, it’s a political process.

Several lawmakers have attempted to impose change upon the NFTA through legislation. Most recently, State Senator George Maziarz and Assemblyman Robin Schimminger co-sponsored a bill that would put a single member of the “transit dependent/disabled” community into a non-voting seat on the NFTA’s board. The bill passed in the Assembly. However, Jake Carlson of the New York State Transportation Equity Alliance, or NYSTEA, an organization that seeks to reform the statewide omission of meaningful customer service in public transit, recently expressed concern that backdoor lobbying by transportation authorities threatens to derail the bill.

Of New York’s five transportation authorities, only New York City’s MTA provides its ridership with a voice on its board. The Permanent Citizens Advisory Council (that’s PCAC, for those scoring acronyms at home) in theory has three voices on the MTA’s board, but functionally it’s mute, as these voices aren’t amplified with the voting power with which every other board member is endowed. While the bill in question proposes non-voting representation on the board, there’s no doubt where community and rider advocacy groups stand. “We’re interested in having representation on the [NFTA] board, not just as a non-voting member,” said Duane Diggs of VOICE Buffalo. “We think it’s important that if the people have a voice, that voice should carry some weight.”

What’s it mean not to have voting power? Jake Carlson offered the following anecdote that played out last December:

“Back in December the MTA was adopting a budget to deal with the capital plan, and one of the full members wanted to make an amendment to it to restore service that was cut in 2010—[the MTA] had one of the largest service cuts in a generation in 2010—and so one of the full board members said he wanted to take $30 million or so and use it to restore service. Two full board members were fully in support of this and the three rider representatives made their case, too. The chair and few others said, ‘No, we’d love to be doing that, but we can’t.’ Everyone else was silent. I’m sitting there thinking, this sounds good, maybe we’ll restore service, but when it came down to the vote it was only those two members voted for it. The rest of board remained silent and didn’t weigh in on the debate. It almost felt like there was an actual debate for once. But at the end of the day, those rider representative votes weren’t counted, and so the service wasn’t restored.”

In other words, the non-voting members can scream until they’re blue around the gills, but it won’t matter. The NFTA has a non-voting seat that belongs to the Amalgamated Transit Union (ATU) president, Vincent Crehan. Our sources say that Crehan is sympathetic to and has been an advocate for the concerns of transit riders. Our sources also say that Crehan can’t recall a single instance in his tenure as commissioner, dating back to 2008, when one vote would have influenced an outcome either way.

(Our sources will have to be gospel, as Crehan declined to comment for this story, citing concerns that another NFTA commissioner, Mark Croce, had with an earlier article in this newspaper. In that article, Croce’s faithfully represented comments included criticism of ATU’s unwillingness to grant concessions in recent contract negotiations. One can only speculate.)

While voting representation for riders is a social and economic imperative, the least the NFTA could do is create a meaningful forum for riders to provide input, voice concerns, and ask questions. “No upstate TA board meetings have public comment periods,” Carlson pointed out. “The only time riders have a chance to voice their concerns is when a fare hike or a service cut is proposed. Or they can call into the comment line, or you do what some of the Occupy folks are doing and just disrupt the meeting.”

This week the Erie County Industrial Development Agency saw fit to call sheriffs in to police its board meeting as a precaution against a perceived threat from Occupy Buffalo protesters. County Executive Mark Poloncarz called the police presence “overkill.” What do the ECIDA and NFTA have in common? Neither allow for public comment at their monthly board meetings.

The NFTA did not respond to multiple attempts to solicit comment on these issues.

[originally appeared in Artvoice: http://artvoice.com/issues/v11n16/week_in_review/nfta_no_comment]

(originally appeared in Artvoice on 4/12/12)

One of Isaac Newton’s first experiments as a young student at Cambridge was an attempt to objectively describe color. To do so, he slid a “bodkin” into his eye socket between eyeball and bone, and pressed the tip until he saw white, dark, and colored circles. Next, he stared with one eye into a reflection of the sun for as long as he could. After looking at the sun, his senses were stripped down to two base colors. Light objects all appeared red, while dark objects appeared blue.

After spending three days in a dark room recovering from his experiment, Newton found he could reproduce this effect at will. Newton found red and blue to be primary colors, positioned at opposite sides of any color wheel, as any good art student will tell you by seventh grade, and the red-blue color dominance was firmly established.

Red and blue, besides being the colors of several prominent national flags and a certain local football team, are the dominant colors of amateur boxing. There’s always a red corner and a blue corner to which each fighter belongs, their respective allegiance demonstrated by the color of their gloves and headgear. In the first round of the Golden Gloves in January, there were two rings to accommodate more than 40 fighters initially in competition: a red ring and blue ring. Tomorrow, in the throwback ambiance of the Statler’s Golden Ballroom, the Golden Gloves final will take place, with 18 fighters competing for championships according to experience and weight class, and 10 fighters in non-tournament “match bouts.”

The Golden Gloves’ roots are deep in Buffalo. The tournament started in Chicago in the 1920s and was organized, promoted, and fund-raised in Buffalo for almost 40 years by a retired wrestler known alternately as the Red Devil, the Masked Marvel, and Franklin Kelliher. Monsignor Kelliher, that is.

In 1936, the young priest was given the reins to the Working Boys Home, a homeless shelter/halfway house for roughly 50 young men run by elderly priests from Father Baker’s Home. But the administration of the home belonged to the priests in name only, for it had come to be run by the boys themselves, and Kelliher was directed to restore order.

His first day on the job, he threw four boxing gloves down on the tables and offered any boy who resented the change of leadership an opportunity to knock him out of his position. “If you lick me, I’ll quit,” he recalled later to the Courier Express. (Kelliher died in 1985.) “If I lick you, you will take orders and obey.” Kelliher, 36 years old at the time, stood 6’1’’ and tipped the scales at 235 pounds. Still, he drew challengers and he managed to keep his job until his retirement in 1975.

•

There’s a good chance Monsignor Kelliher was in attendance at the Broadway Auditorium to see Joe Louis’s only Buffalo fight on Janaury 11, 1937. The Courier Express drummed up excitement in town before the fight: “One of the greatest fight crowds ever to witness either a title or non-title bout in Western New York is expected to jam the Broadway Auditorium tonight to see Joe Louis, the fanciful Brown Bomber from Detroit, battle Stanley Ketchell in a four-round bout.”

From the beginning, it seemed that Ketchell wasn’t much a challenger for Louis, who was between losing his first fight to the German Max Schmeling in June 1936 and capturing the world heavyweight title from “Cinderella Man” James Braddock in June 1937. Ketchell’s attributes as accounted in the Courier Express don’t extend beyond being an animate punching bag: “Ketchell’s only qualifications are that he has the size, build and punch to give Joe a workout.”

By all accounts, the 7,328 fight fans who filled the auditorium were not disappointed by its short duration. The Courier celebrated Ketchell for lasting into the second round: “The bout lasted longer than expected…Ketchell did the best he could while the bout lasted, but was palpably afraid of the amber assassin.” Louis knocked Ketchell cold with a left hand 31.5 seconds into the second round: “He went down like a poled ox, full length, his arms stretched out at length.”

On a rather warm day in March, I entered what remains of the Broadway Auditorium. Anchored on Broadway just east of the intersection at Michigan Street, the auditorium awkwardly shadows its former self like most 19th-century structures that still stand in Buffalo. From the outside it looks like an enormous pile of yellow bricks and glass block, with a pyramidal roof projecting above it.

Walking from the noon daylight into the darkened garage door entrance, the enormous sky of the building, held aloft by its arched steel ribs, comes alive in imagined memory. Daylight streamed into the windows along the eastern side of the roof, the western portion not faring as well against years of lake effect weather.

It’s probably too late for a large storm to occur this season, but if it happened, the auditorium would be ground zero for the dig-out efforts: A massive mountain of lonely rock salt stood sentry astride dozens of well-rested city snowplows. Today, the cathedral on Broadway is a depot for the Department of Public Works that stands in the way of Mayor Byron Brown’s efforts to create an African-American cultural history district anchored by the neighboring Michigan Street Baptist Church, the Colored Musicians Club, and the Langston Hughes Institute.

•

Across the street from the Buffalo area’s most impressive cathedral, the Basilica of Our Lady of Victory, is a parking lot next to a large building with many doors. One door is labeled “Roy and Jim’s Lackawanna Community Boxing.” Opening the door and climbing down the curling iron stairs into the basement is a little like stepping back in time. The room is long, dank, punctuated by reds and blues, and lined with old fight posters. Cigarette smoke perfumed the air. Young men and boys were scattered throughout the room working at different stations: pounding speed bags, jumping rope, shadow-boxing, doing situps.

After Dante Palmer finished 15 minutes of effortless-looking jump rope, I noticed he was wearing his mouthguard. Most fighters I’ve seen only wear it when sparring. Palmer explained he started wearing it while training so he could get comfortable breathing with it in, and that it’s become something of a habit. The Buffalo native is 20 years old and started training in Lackawanna because of a connection his mother had with someone who was formerly affiliated with the gym. Now, the gym has become something of a habit. “I’m here every day,” he said. “I want to turn pro.”

On Friday, Palmer will be fighting Buffalo’s Emmanuel Colon in the 141-pound open final for the chance travel to Nevada to compete for the national championship. “Booky’s ready,” Roy Brasch told me.

When I ask where Palmer got the nickname Booky, Brasch plead ignorance.

“I’ve had the nickname since birth,” Palmer told me between rounds of sparring with the 50-something Jim Giambelluca and the 40-something martial artist Marty Cacavas. “I don’t know why.”

“Gym’s closed Friday for the Gloves, guys, so everyone knows,” Roy Brasch announced to the room. At 65 years old, Brasch is the source of the gym’s cigarette odor and its spirit. He and Giambelluca run the gym, charging members $20 monthly. “We’re the cheapest, I’m pretty sure,” Brasch told me.

Brasch and Giambelluca remember Monsignor Kelliher well, having fought on a number of fight cards Kelliher put together. I asked Brasch, who has a way of pronouncing the word “boxing” that makes the plosive B jump out like a leading jab, to describe the monsignor, and he told me, “He was a tough, tough man. He didn’t take no shit. If you got out of hand, he’d pick you up and throw you against the wall.”

At one point, Cacavas found some blood on his shirt and asked Jim and Booky if they were bleeding at all. Both looked confused, but then Jim said, “It’s probably my mouth.” As he washed his well-worn teeth and mouth out with water I asked him if he was having fun. “Always fun,” he said.

“You still spar, Roy?”

“No, I wish. I take Coumadin now. Can’t fight no more.”

(originally published in Buffalo Spree, photo courtesy of Micheline Veluvolu)

One November Friday night in Rochester, New York—birthplace of soccer pro Abby Wambach and the garbage plate (that’s food)—I found myself, my brother-in-law, and my father standing along the Genesee River, walking under the new bridge that connects to the eastbound 490. In front of us: Blue Cross Arena, home of the Rochester Americans (colloquially known as the Amerks) American Hockey League team and Buffalo Sabres affiliate. Behind us: Nathaniel’s Bar and Grille, origin of the Caesar salad now in my stomach, and home to twenty flat-screen TVs showing Tebow highlights.

The Arena gates weren’t open yet, but the atrium was packed with people at six p.m., all looking like they belonged to a secret order of Rochesterians. I’ve been to Rochester more than a handful of times, but I can never get over how different the place feels from my hometown of Buffalo. Everything looks more or less the same, but the atmosphere inside social spaces feels very different. Where Buffalo invokes idealism and a confused depression, Rochester responds with pragmatism and a polite anxiety.

An hour before the Americans face-off against the Toronto Marlies, the gates open and the atrium people disperse into the expanse of the arena. There’s a young man in shorts and sneakers flipping a puck in the air, catching it on his stick’s blade, flipping it back in the air, catching it on the shaft, flipping it back in the air, etc. It looks like he’s trying to perfect the annoying children’s game I once received from a cheap uncle—the one with the ball on a string attached to a wooden handle with a space for the ball to fit. Flip the ball up, don’t get it in. Repeat ten times until carsick.

I doubt whether sports are more existentially meaningful than the ball-on-string game, but there’s a strong argument for comparable emotional depth. Seeing the ice itself always releases a nostalgic twitch that lets me know that I’m as good as home. I’ll never forget the first time my dad took me to Buffalo’s War Memorial Auditorium—the ridiculous expanse of the room and the smell of the cold air stale with beer, sweat, and mold. Above all, that clean sheet of ice at the bottom. Perfect.

The Rochester arena’s full name, Blue Cross Arena at the War Memorial, retains the building’s post-war origin. It’s named, like many such places across America in the fifties, in honor of the WWII fallen. It was renovated and expanded in the 1990s and renamed in the fashion of most sports venues built in that decade—after the highest bidder. Still, the juxtaposition of the fifties-era structure and its superimposed layer of nineties-era design (considered state-of-the-art when I grew up) felt very familiar.

Pregame, there is an area of the concourse set aside for kids to play a game of knee hockey (after culpability waivers are signed, of course). It was then that I started to get it. Minor league teams in small cities, perhaps in order to survive and retain fan loyalty, cultivate a tighter community and a better family atmosphere than major league teams can.

If the knee hockey didn’t bring it home, there were $2 happy hour beers in the atrium and cheap tickets to really emphasize how cool Rochester can be. Before the game, I asked Amerks vice president of business operations Rob Kopacz why folks from Buffalo should make the trip. “It’s an affordable night of entertainment, and it’s an available night, as most Sabres games are sold out,” Kopacz says. “Down here, these guys are approachable. When the game’s over, [the players] all leave out the back door. There’s no security, and fans line up to meet them and get autographs.”

Kopacz also glows about the Amerks’ roster: “These guys flying up and down the ice are the future stars of the Sabres,” he contends. “These guys are going to be there, if not this year, then in the coming years. I go back to the days when Ryan Miller, Derek Roy, and Jason Pominville were all here with the Amerks. This is where they started and now they’re the core of [the Sabres]. And I look at these guys here, and they’re the next core. I look at [forward Marcus] Foligno, [forward Corey] Tropp, and others, and that’s exciting.”

It almost wasn’t. Despite a twenty-five year plus affiliation with the Sabres—the longest in NHL/AHL history—the Amerks became exclusively affiliated with the Florida Panthers beginning in 2007. This past May, the connection was restored when Sabres’ owner Terry Pegula purchased the Americans. The fans’ excitement can be measured in season ticket sales, which are up seventy percent. Pegula’s wife, Kim, hails from the Rochester area, and it was hard to deny the sense of family that permeated the building that night. Lots of kids in the stands, Amerks’ wives fundraising for the families of Russian hockey players killed in September’s plane crash, and a high school marching band belting out the “Star-Spangled Banner” created a prideful atmosphere that not even hordes of college kids double-fisting $2 beers could sully.

Into the third period, the game was tied 1-1. Of the 6,717 people in attendance, there was a vocal contingent of about seventy-five clamoring for a fight every chance they got. With the Amerks on the power play and looking for the winning goal, the Marlies’ Jerry D’Amigo got a breakaway. With only 2:30 on the clock, an ominous feeling descended. D’Amigo rifled a shot over goalie David Leggio’s blocker for a 2-1 lead. There were more cries for a fight, and some in my section started to loudly complain about Canada, and Canadians, and how they should all go home.

But time ran out on the Amerks and the fight fans. A middle-aged woman in front of me stood and cheered while a disappointed Amerks fan loudly offered some further opinions about Canada. I was told she’s the mother of Marlies’ winger Tyler Brenner. I told my dad, the guy who brought me to my first ten or so hockey games, and he was tickled. It’s all in the family.

Would Santa Want to Sit on the Board without a Vote?

(article originally appeared in Artvoice)

When all the smoke of a game-changing service cut proposal had cleared, and the public furor it caused quieted, the NFTA was left with the diesel soaked rags and a book of matches in the form of the second significant fare hike in three years. Of course the NFTA has been quick to deny that the proposed service reduction was a threat designed to make a fare hike more palatable, but many riders still smell the fumes when they think of the NFTA and its Board of Commissioners.

And it was out of that toxic air, amid a multitude of voices from riders and elected officials, that the NFTA threw the public a bone. At its February board meeting, they announced the development of a Citizens Advisory Panel (CAP), a non-voting entity that could nonetheless provide a novel thing for the NFTA: the voice of the people who actually ride the bus. Currently, the board is functionally deaf to the experience of its customers. In the Board’s monthly public meetings, there is no allotted time for the public to speak or comment. For a business-heavy Board, they have ignored the number one rule of business: customer service.

As it now stands, even if CAP were formed, they would finally be able to bring customer issues to the Board’s oblong table. But the strength of their voice would ultimately be tempered by their lack of voting power.

“It’s shameful that they wouldn’t have a vote,” regionalism and NFTA advocate Kevin Gaughan said when the CAP was first discussed. “I would suggest that they not waste their time in building such a committee. Until a commissioner sits on the Board, the Board will never understand the issues.”

There are currently two bills originating in the State Assembly to create additional non-voting commissionerships on the NFTA Board. One, from Crystal Peoples-Stokes, calls for two non-voting commissioners to be appointed by the Mayor of Buffalo and its Common Council, but the bill appears stuck in neutral. Another bill penned by Sen. George Maziarz and Assemlymember Robin Schimminger that calls for a “second non-voting member to the Niagara Frontier transportation authority who shall represent the transit dependent or disabled community” (the first non-voting member is Vince Crehan, who is the president of the Amalgamated Transit Union Local 1342), has started to move through the legislature.

Perhaps the NFTA is waiting on the fate of that bill before they create the CAP, because they’ve offered no new information on the matter since it was first announced five weeks ago. It was then described as an “advisory panel” that “will not be a part of the actual governing Board, but rather act in an advisory capacity to help Metro become more responsive and better meet the needs of its customers. It will function in a capacity similar to our current Advisory Committee on the Disabled.”

Once a month, a small slice of the disabled community meet in the “West Room” off the cafe of the downtown library to convene the Advisory Committee on the Disabled, a forum begun sometime in the wake of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) of 1990. I arrived early last week and sat between two gentlemen. On my right was Donald LaBer, who told me the NFTA “get a lot of input from this.” On my left was Rich Marino, who dismissed the Committee, saying “they mostly just like to pat themselves on the back.”

At the outset there were about a dozen committee members and five NFTA employees from various offices, including the Director of Surface Transportation, Tom George, who came late, excused himself on a phone call halfway through, and then left early. “He can be kinda condescending,” I was told of George.

By and large, the NFTA staff were respectful and responsive to the concerns of the committee. ADA Coordinator Colleen Clancy listed some of the committee’s recent accomplishments: no more colors on paper bus schedules (as many visually-impaired riders found them difficult to read), directives to have drivers call out stops and transfers, and a new green space at the airport for guide dogs.

If the NFTA can be forced to respond to its customers so it can be in compliance with federal legislation, perhaps there’s room to hope it could do the same if either of the bills in the Assembly pass and the CAP is formed. But what would it mean to not have a vote? We’ll look at that next.

It’s not really a joke. At least it shouldn’t be. But the state of the NFTA at times reveals a byzantine web of conflicting interests, inexperience, strange math, and outdated coin machines on buses. It’s hard not to laugh darkly at the absurdity the system provides the public, in the “If you don’t laugh, it’ll just drive you crazy” kind of way.

To recap the long, strange stops the less-than-magic bus has taken in recent months:

• Faced with a $14.7 million dollar shortfall, the NFTA found a way to trim $7 million in-house, and presented a proposal to the public to enact a painful service reduction in order to avoid any fare increase.

• Assemblyman Sean Ryan’s requested that the New York Authorities Budget Office review the NFTA’s finances, and the ABO agreed to conduct a review.

• The service reduction plan meets vociferous resistance in a series of public hearings in late January, as some of the thousands of folks who depend on the NFTA to sustain themselves pleaded for the NFTA not to cut their bus service.

• Governor Cuomo’s proposed budget included a restoration of $2.9 million in State Transportation Operating Assistance funds, leaving the NFTA with a revised deficit of roughly $4.8 million.

• In February Board of Commissioners approved a plan to increase the fare by a quarter to $2, with only two commissioners voting against it. They also agreed to add a “Citizen Advisory Panel” to bring the voices of the system’s ridership to the board.

• Early this month, Governor Cuomo nominated businessman/developer/philanthropist Howard Zemsky to become the new Chairman.

Also in February, the acting chairman of the board, Henry Sloma, wrote a letter to the Niagara County Legislature asking for a $1 million annual pledge, stating “it would appear based on the service levels that Niagara County is equitably enriched by service in excess of $1 million over and above the contribution of mortgage recording tax.” Erie County currently contributes one eighth of one percent of its sales tax revenue to the NFTA in addition to its own mortgage recording tax proceeds. In Niagara County, no such luck. The Niagara County Legislature has commenced its process of hemming and hawing.

When asked in February whether the lack of a sitting chairman negatively affected the NFTA, spokesperson C. Douglas Hartmayer responded, “Not at all. As a 14-year member of the board, acting chairman Sloma has led the board with dedication and passion on behalf of the Buffalo Niagara region.” That’s right, Say-it-ain’t-Sloma has been in a leadership position in the NFTA for 14 years, yet this is the first time, seemingly, that he has approached his home county for an operating assistance commensurate to what Erie County provides.

“He’s been acting chair for three years and this inequity has been going on now for more than a decade,” Assemblyman Sean Ryan said by phone. “I appreciate Acting Chair Sloma writing a letter, there’s still no resolution from the NFTA board asking for that. They could and they should come out stronger for that. In return, Niagara County should get a statutory board seat. Erie County got two board seats in return for their contribution.”

The bios of the current commissioners offers a strange brew of political allegiances and conflicts of interest, so it may come as little surprise that Sloma, as a powerful Republican figure in Niagara County, found it unfit to write such a letter at an earlier time. Adam Perry is a Byron Brown apparatchik, or a civic-minded and effective attorney, depending on who you’re asking. Kevin Helfer runs Buffalo Civic Auto Ramp (BCAR), a quasi-governmental agency that runs downtown’s public parking ramps, keeping monthly parking rates artificially low and standardized. Developer and restauranteur Mark Croce owns several surface lots in the entertainment district.

Croce was one of the two commissioners (Michael Hughes being the other) who voted against the fare cuts last month. Croce explained his vote: “We had a fare increase not too long ago [January 2009], and we have a $200 million dollar budget, yet every time we have a deficit we rely on the backs of the people, losing focus on our core mission.” Reached by phone, Croce bristled at the notion that his involvement in the parking business might present a conflict of interest. “Conflict of interest?” he said. “I’m the only one who understands the situation!”

Croce pointed out that the price of the new monthly bus pass ($75) would be nearly identical to or even more than monthly parking ramp rates, and that he desires public transportation to be a more viable and cheaper option for consumers. The lack of free-market pricing on parking downtown, he said, is an impediment for growth. “You can’t just get a monthly, you have to go on a wait-list,: he said. “Downtown has lost out on new businesses because these a new business can’t find parking for their employees.”

It’s bad enough for BCAR to be in direct competition with the NFTA, Croce said, but it’s downright odious for the director of BCAR, Kevin Helfer, to have a seat on the NFTA board. (Attempts to reach Helfer were unsuccessful as his listed extension at the BCAR office routed to someone else’s voicemail, and the message was not returned.)

Croce was also quick to point out other revenue streams the NFTA should explore, saying he’s asked to board to look into the city’s $4-5 million yearly proceeds in the Parking Enterprise Fund, while also complaining about the disproportionate level of state funding for New York City’s MTA, and the lack of concessions from the Amalgamated Transit Union, which serves many of the NFTA’s employees.

The bus is crowded with ideas about how the NFTA can save money or find new revenue streams. The NFTA has explored low cost or free power from the Power Authority in Niagara Falls; it has initiated the sale of its Outer Harbor real estate; policemen have been laid off; and overtime has been severely limited.

Ryan proposed that the NFTA find a way to scale back their 25-cent fare hike to 10 or 15 cents. “Every nickel brings in about a $1 million [annually],” Ryan said. “And they told me that because they haven’t updated their coin drop-boxes on the buses, they can only accept quarters. It’s very frustrating because it seems that the only answer is a quarter increase.”

These are the same boxes that are unable to give change and unable to accept credit or debit card payments; and this is the same public transportation agency with a $200 million dollar budget and a large “support service” staff that still has been unable to produce any smartphone “app” that could offer schedules, trip itineraries, and even payment options. The NFTA seems stuck in 1988 in more ways than one.

Several months ago, regionalism activist Kevin Gaughan submitted a humanizing article to the Buffalo Newsabout the riders and drivers of the bus system itself. He included some interesting figures, namely that the NFTA employs 115 people as “support service managers,” whose salaries and benefits total “$11.4 million.” When asked directly about this figure, the NFTA’s Hartmayer responded, “I have no idea where Gaughan came up with his information. I can tell you that the NFTA has 43 manager positions for its 1,600 workforce with a total budget of $3.8 million.”

Reached by phone, Gaughan defended his figures. “All I did was [review their budget] and count heads, and I did so rather conservatively; any employee that had a tile including ‘senior,’ I included in my definition of managers. I’d be pleased and honored to sit down with the NFTA, preferably an officer and not a spokesperson.

“All New York State public authorities should do what all private companies have been forced to do: downsize, adapt, and innovate,” Gaughan continued. “So far, the NFTA’s abject refusal to do so has hurt itself. They should downsize their administrative offices and what they define as ‘support services.’ For some 20 years, we’ve asked them to divest their real estate holdings, and it hasn’t happened. Accountability in agencies like the NFTA slide back and forth between the board and its officers and, as a result, I think it’s reasonable to assert that this governance model is failing us. I’m thrilled to see that the board will include someone who actually rides the bus [the Citizen Advisory Panel], though it’s shameful that this person will not have a vote.”

The Authorities Budget Office review and analysis on the chronic budgetary woes of the NFTA may not be completed until the summer, though Gaughan doesn’t proffer much enthusiasm for its ultimate efficacy. “With all due respect, the ABO is a waste of time,” he said. “The idea of one New York State government agency assessing another is like asking one fox in the chicken coop to assess another fox. There should be an independent review by a consulting firm such as McKinsey & Company—for the third poorest city in the nation, I’m sure McKinsey would consider lending a hand pro bono.”

If there’s any hope for the situation to become untangled it may lie in three emerging areas: the Citizen Advisory Panel, executive director Kimberly Minkel, and the incoming chairman, Howard Zemsky. The Citizen Advisory Pane, while not empowered to vote, would finally endow the board with the voice of its ridership. Hartmayer clarified to the role of the CAP through an email: “As with any advisory panel that I am aware of, it will not be a part of the actual governing Board, but rather act in and advisory capacity to help Metro become more responsive and better meet the needs of its customers. It will function in a capacity similar to our current Advisory Committee on the Disabled.”

There also seems to exist a good deal of confidence in Minkel’s ability to evolve into an effective leader of the NFTA, and widespread respect and admiration for Zemsky. “He’s very methodical,” Ryan said. “He’ll listen to a lot of voices, synthesize that, and say, ‘Here’s a good policy initiative.’ That’s a rare thing among leaders. Howard does more listening than talking.”

If that’s truly the case, he should get plenty of chances to listen. There are two public hearings to discuss the fare increase scheduled next week: Wednesday, March 21 at 6pm in Niagara Falls City Hall, and Thursday, March 22 at 6 pm at the Central Library in Buffalo. Hopefully, a healthy debate can drown out the dark snickering.

Poet Michael Basinski performs at Big Night

On a cold night last November, the curator for UB’s Poetry Collection took the stage at the Burchfield Penney Art Center for a fundraising event for BlazeVox Books, the Buffalo poetry press. The upstairs atrium lobby was adorned with a wine/cheese/fruit spread circled by a dozen or so tables fitted with white tablecloths. The audience was well dressed for a poetry reading: designer jeans, handbags, boots, makeup, clean hair were all easy to spot. BlazeVox editor Geoff Gatza then introduced a man who needs no introduction within the literary community: Michael Basinski. Basinski stood at the podium and quickly exfoliated any pretense of his office found perhaps in his unbuttoned white shirt and dark sport jacket, slipping seamlessly into character as a poet and performer. In his new skin he gave a brief introduction to his poem, “Maid of Beer.”

On a recent Monday night in Ulrich’s Tavern, Basinski met with me and filled in the gaps. He grew up in the 1950s on Harmonia Street, a block-long street between Walden and Sycamore, and not far from the Broadway Market and even closer to streets with names like Sobieski, Stanislaus, and Kosciuszko. At the time the area was hotbed of swiftly assimilating Eastern European cultures; today the area is a hotbed for ragweed and dandelions covering the lots where houses once stood.

When he was around 10 years old, his aunt gave him an anthology of poetry. “It was one of these early 20th century, mass-produced anthologies with an embossed cover and gilded pages,” he said. “I still have it. I think there’s stars next to Shelley’s poems.” Looking perhaps for the traces of influence of Romantic poets in the mass culture of the pre-Beatles 1960s, he was particularly attracted to the bohemian and beat culture documented in Life magazine and ridiculed in Mad magazine. Of the culture he was raised in, Basinski said, “I didn’t feel like I had to get outside of it. I was outside of it.”

Other than the book from his aunt, Basinski insists that he never received any guidance or encouragement from teachers or friends into what he refers to as the “Realm of the Poem,” aside from a backhanded comment from one of his teachers: “I do remember writing poems and putting ’em in high school literary magazine and one teacher said, ‘Oh, now I understand you.’”

Fete of Egyptian Luxor and cotton towels dry my dripping face dripping of need face a dry throat Gobi alone murmur July of ur nighttime O! and wanton O my moist I more lush quart cups beer cool cups want I’m wanted drunk or alive to hear your sea negligee a sail-lure snail tied tight of negligent honey from da side of the Simon Pure beer truck pore more forth excess cups of beer more

[original story pulbished in Artvoice: http://artvoice.com/issues/v11n8/in_the_margins#ixzz1nCyQgemq]

His father worked at Republic Steel and Basinski himself, bohemian notions or not, went right onto the line at Buffalo China, decorating the kitchenware as it passed by. But he kept at school, earning an associate’s degree in chemistry from ECC. “I could do algebra very quickly, so I wouldn’t have to think,” Basinski told me at Ulrich’s, “and then I could go home and read Tennessee Williams.” But the “Realm” still surrounded him and he was lured to take night classes in literature at the University at Buffalo, where his early professors were Sally Fiedler and Jack Clarke. Soon Basinski was getting long looks and questions during his lunch breaks at the factory while he read Charles Olson and meditated on shipping pallets.

“Being able to move about socially makes me a big proponent of public education—economically feasible higher education,” he said. “I was quirky enough to be to posture myself into different places, but I didn’t know anything about going to school or anything. But I could go down the street and there was exposure to really great teachers and top-notch writers.”

An assignment in one of Clarke’s classes was to attend a poetry reading on campus from the newly returned faculty member, Robert Creeley. Clarke gave his class some important advice beforehand, urging the students to have a few drinks, get a buzz, get psyched up, do whatever they could do to try to make access to the Realm that much easier. Basinski complied. “Me and my friend George met at a bar at the corner of Amherst and Main Street and tightened up a bit. The reading was in the Fillmore Room in Norton Hall, and there were like 300 people there. I remember he read ‘Do You Think’ from his daybook [In London] and I remember thinking, ‘I’m there, this is it.’”

our Lady of Villa Maria on Doat street near Persia and Randolph streets the lawn fete night Mary of vortex Czestochowa Cheektowaga in the darkness of holy magi incense and flickering old candles yellow of old women prayer in the church shadows

Now in his early 60s and almost three decades into a professional career as a custodian to UB’s world-renowned Poetry and Rare Books collection, Basinski never betrays the sense that his primary identification is as an artist. Wearing large glasses under a mat of thick, curly gray hair and an exquisite matching gray mustache, however, he looks like he could be a stand-in for Saturday Night Live’s “Superfans” skit with Chris Farley. A superfan, albeit, with a classic education and an ever-widening imagination focused on increasing the circumference of possibilities within thought. Variations of the word “possibility,” came up again and again during our conversation, whether we were talking about the his work at UB’sz Poetry Collection, his role in the literary communiity, his pleasure in working with younger artists, or the aesthetics of fluxus, of which he is an active practitioner.

Basinski grew up within East Buffalo/Cheektowaga’s Polish-Catholic community, but formal religion was never an active part of his life. The culture and community of church, however, do seem to have translated into his disposition. His job at the Poetry Collection started when he was a graduate assistant, after he was referred to then curator, Robert Bertholf, by English faculty member Kathy Kosinski.

“She knew where all the fish fries were on the East Side so we had mutual points of reference. I called up the Poetry Collection, and I talked to Bertholf. Bertholf said, ‘Come on in, I’ll talk to ya.’ So I put on a tie, went in. I said, ‘Hi, Dr. Bertholf, I’m here. I’m Michael Basinski,’ and he shook my hand and said, ‘Go sign up.’ And that was it. I ordered books. And today, I ordered books. Not much has changed.”

Basinski is extremely catholic in his tastes. In addition to textual work, he creates visual artwork and composes musical fluxus pieces, explaining “making words as pure music without the burden of carrying meaning, is highly attractive to me.” As curator of a prestigious literary institution with a purchasing budget, he has consistently advocated that there is “one poetry,” a single point of reference and unity for all the dueling denominations of the poem.

He explains the frequent mention of the gods in his work as such: “It’s a very spiritual poetry, always. I think the poem touches other realms and in those realms the gods live and thus spirits live, a realm of possibilities. This is what Percy Bysshe [Shelley] did. I’m reading Keats again and I find it there. And this bar maiden is delivering a form of elixir to us so that we are able to experience a higher form of reality. That’s how these gods and mythologies work into our experience.”

O sweetened of salt mermaid sumoon seed conical spire composed of tubular whorls sumoon a rite of candy stores and bakery sweets bakers up before the birds sumoon marauding taffy fertile fruitful productive urmoonoonfecundation sumoonmaiding to you my wedded lips in the center of the night roaring moon

Had Basinski been born in Pittsburgh, he might have been a painter; or if he had been from Krakow, he might have written fiction; if from Chicago, he might have been a musician. Being from a Buffalo steel family, he gravitated to the burgeoning literary culture of his hometown. I got the sense that he is proud and immensely comfortable with his hometown as he relayed to me a story of stealing beers from the Ulrich’s store-room during a busy St. Patrick’s Day rush. “I have picture of myself in the doorway of this bar hanging in my house.”

It’s easy for art to seem stuffy, especially when serious work takes on a certain quality of solemnity in galleries, or when the rules around an art form become rigid and rendered “classical.” Sometimes art takes on modes of exclusivity, often regardless of the artist’s original intention. That November night at the Burchfield-Penney, Basinski immediately unraveled any such pretension, exposing the possibility for art to always be exuberant and joyful.

When he talks or performs, it becomes immediately apparent that the world sounds and probably even looks different to him than it does to other people. Not just in the way that all experience is to some extent individualized; for Basinski reality doesn’t look like reality anymore. Sitting in the bar with him for over an hour, I had barely heard a word of the droning local newscast coming from the TV, and the man coming in trying to sell canisters of decaf instant coffee strangely didn’t seem necessarily real, either. Basinski told me he would head home by driving east down Broadway through Buffalo, Sloan, Cheektowaga. A three-mile stretch directly next to a river of active railyards. He left me thinking how it all would sound, bouncing around in his head to a language only he speaks.

Since the proposal was unveiled, however, some key developments have changed the course of the story:

• The NFTA has found ways to halve the deficit by some $7 million worth of layoffs and streamlining without affecting bus service directly;

• The New York State Authorities Budget Office has agreed to dig for the roots of the NFTA’s seemingly chronic economic woes at the behest of freshman Assemblyman Sean Ryan;

• Governor Andrew Cuomo’s proposed budget gives the NFTA a $2.9 million bump in funds; and

• there has been increased support for a fare increase to be implemented in the place of a service reduction.

Artvoice posed the following questions to NFTA spokesperson C. Douglas Hartmayer this week, to offer those who weren’t able to attend one of the recent public hearings a chance to get into the discussion.

AV: What has been the biggest surprise to you in recent weeks with the hearings and increased media attention?

Hartmayer: There were no real surprises coming out of the five public hearings. We understand the impact the proposed cuts will have on our customers and expect them to be as passionate as they were. As such, we will continue working to obtain additional state transit operating assistance and access to eight megawatts of low-cost power from the New York State Power Authority.

AV: Due to the NFTA’s fiscal crisis, has the Board of Commissioners given any thought to trimming the salaries of upper management in addition to the proposed service cuts, fare hikes, and layoffs?

Hartmayer: Implementing operational efficiencies began over three years ago, not just recently. Salaries of the NFTA’s management team have been trimmed by 12 percent from a year ago. Including the 2012-13 budget, non-represented employees have not had a salary increase in three of the last four budget cycles, non-represented employees health insurance contribution is being increased to 15 percent from 10 percent, and their vision plan is being eliminated. At the same time there has been a hiring embargo in place except for Metro bus operators and necessary safety personnel.

Throughout the NFTA, 42 of 50 planned position eliminations have taken place, the remaining eight will be eliminated shortly, overtime has been reduced and only allowed for extenuating circumstances. These are other initiative resulted in $7.7 million in savings in the 2012-13 budget.

Also, please let me put to rest the misconception that our Board of Commissioners are paid. They work pro bono; they do not receive any compensation for the work they perform on behalf of the authority.
[original placement: http://artvoice.com/issues/v11n7/week_in_review/nfta_speaks#ixzz1nCxTCDa4 ]

AV: Kevin Gaughan wrote an intriguing opinion piece for the Buffalo News in which he said there are “115 support services managers” in the NFTA receiving salaries and benefits which total $11.4 million dollars. The NFTA Mission Statement says that support services “proactively provide high quality, coordinated, innovative, technological, cost-effective support service solutions for our internal and external stakeholders.” First of all, is Gaughan’s figure correct, and secondly, can you clarify what the Support Services do for the NFTA?

Hartmayer: I have no idea where Gaughan came up with his information. I can tell you that the NFTA has 43 manager positions for its 1,600 workforce with a total budget of $3.8 million.

As in any business as diversified as the NFTA, there needs to be support services to “support” the efforts of our business centers. We have employees who provide services in areas such as accounting, MIS, engineering, printing, labor relations, legal, human resources, customer service, marketing, and diversity. It should be noted that these employees work on behalf of each business center, increasing the overall effectiveness of the authority.

AV: Some lawmakers have criticized the NFTA’s role in subsidizing the Niagara Falls Airport to the tune of $900,000-$1.5 million annually. What is the vision for the future of NFTA’s role in this airport and how can the NFTA justify spending this much money on a secondary airport?

Hartmayer: The Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) has designated the Niagara Falls International Airport (NFIA) a reliever airport for the Buffalo Niagara International Airport (BNIA). Contrary to what some people may believe, the two airports do no compete, but actually complement each other. Most recently the new terminal has played an ever-increasing role in the economic growth of the Niagara region. According to the New York Statewide Airport Economic Impacts Study of May 2011, the NFIA has a total impact of $158.6 million, supporting 1,706 jobs in the region. The NFTA’s role is to continue developing aviation service at this facility. In 2011, the outbound passenger total increased by 184 percent. On average, 75 percent of the people using the NFIA are Canadian. That translates into new revenue for restaurants, hotels, and retail stores and additional sales tax that helps stimulate the Niagara Falls economy.

Specific to your question regarding the NFTA subsidizing the NFIA at the expense of Metro, it’s a moot point. The combined net budgeted surplus for both the Buffalo and Niagara Falls airports is $4.94 million for fiscal year-end 2012. The FAA allows for a maximum of $4.5 million to be diverted for non-aviation purposes, which the NFTA has done for years to support Metro Bus and Rail operations. The true reality is, the NFIA’s deficit has no bearing whatsoever of the shortfall Metro is facing.

AV: Does the lack of a current chairman, with Henry Sloma filling in for the time being, affect the NFTA’s ability to make good decisions?

Hartmayer: Not at all. As a 14-year member of the board, acting chairman Sloma has led the board with dedication and passion on behalf of the Buffalo Niagara region.

AV: Would the NFTA be open to adding a citizen spokeperson (ie, an active user of the NFTA transit system who can represent the needs of the public) to the Board of Commissioners in the future?

Hartmayer: The governor appoints the members to our board. If this were to happen, I’m sure the commissioners would welcome such an addition. Further, please know that we are in the process of developing a Citizens Advisory Panel made up of Metro customers and transit advocates so that we can ensure there is an open line of communication between our customers and staff.

AV: There’s been a lot of public speculation that the service cuts were engineered to make a fare hike more palatable. I know Henry Sloma has denied this is the case, but can you blame folks for arriving at that conclusion? What really happened?

Hartmayer: As reported, the board, in an effort to gather as many facts as possible regarding proposed Metro service reductions and/or a fare adjustment, held a number of meetings that were attended by elected officials and community leaders. At that time, their comments to the board indicated that the people they represented could not afford a fare increase and asked the board not to impose one. Upon listening to their collective comments the board subsequently voted to initiate the public hearing process for proposed Metro service reductions to close a $7.1 million budget deficit, minus a fare increase.