Shopping with the mayor

Valerie Keehn instinctively thumbed the platinum card in her palm as the stretch limousine came to a rolling stop on 50th Street. She gingerly extended a toe of her polished leather Prada heels to the curbside and pulled herself into the mid-afternoon sun, inhaling deeply the crisp autumn air. Perfect shopping weather, she thought, as she tucked an Armani designer handbag beneath her arm and strutted authoritatively toward the door to Saks Fifth Avenue.

For nearly nine months, she had wanted to jettison her wardrobe from last season; the frumpy frills, the aging material, the styles so woefully passé. What better time to do it than when a hot platinum card is burning between the finger tips.

“Follow me,” she said, tossing the card at a nearby department manager. “I’ve got a number of things I’ll need you to gift-wrap.”

She grabbed a gold-embroidered chemise, cashmere sweaters, and velvet evening gowns; thousands of dollars of purchases in just minutes. But every minute worth it, she thought, leafing through a collection of designer-print silk wraps. Like a pirate sifting through plunder, she loaded the man’s arms with so much finery he called for help to haul the impending purchases.

She pressed onto the home ware department and quickly noticed a striking collection of Faberge glassware shimmering in the department store fluorescence. Four martini glasses for $400, it’s for a good cause, she whispered, thinking briefly about how striking she’d look sipping a Godiva Chocolate martini in them with an extended pinky at the next Keehn for America fundraiser. She chortled slightly. And what good would such glasses be without a set of crystal flutes to complement them?

“Throw it on the card,” she said, pointing at the entire display.

“But my dear,” the manager gasped. “That’s well over $10,000 worth of merchandise.”

“And I’m prepared to buy it,” she quipped, making sure to use her most pretentious, Oxford-inspired voice.

“Well,” he replied, glancing hard at the card. “I’ll need to check your credit…”

“Then just do it,” she barked. “I’m rich, don’t you understand? Real rich. I’m so rich, in fact, I haven’t the time to concern myself with prices.”

So she shopped on, filling the arms of four more attendants with a bevy of high-name big ticket items. The dollars flew by, but it didn’t matter. Not with that platinum card. It was almost as if the items were free; just hand them to the attendant and worry about the bill later. Tiffany, Gucci, Versace, she needed it all and in copious amounts.

But then the manager returned; a look of deep concern entrenched on his face. He had dispatched of two attendants and was telling the third to leave when he found himself staring into the angry eyes of his frivolous shopper.

“You insult me by putting back my purchases,” she growled. “What is the meaning of this?”

“My dear,” he said in a pleading voice. “These are the items you can’t afford right now.”

“Nonsense,” she shouted, drawing the attention the manager had desperately tried to avoid garnering. “Pack up these things now and allow me to go back to my shopping.”

The manager shrugged.

“Even though these cards typically have no limit, you have somehow managed to reach your maximum,” he whispered. “In fact, you can hardly afford the item you’re holding in your hands right now.”

Keehn looked down at the small $150 designer key ring she plucked from the sale rack in the accessory isle and contemplated; there is a platinum card here, the card means money and money is meant to be spent, right?

“Well don’t worry about it,” she said abruptly, grabbing a stack of satin sheets. “Somebody will pay for it.”

True, this fictional narrative is rather fantastic given the mayor’s off-kilter fashion sense. What is not fictional is the Keehn Administration’s concept of spending and their utter disregard for what the city’s credit and taxpayers can burden. Finance voice-of-reason Matt McCabe tried to warn Keehn about the inhospitable condition of the budget months before she came out with her ludicrous $63 million capital projects budget, something that looks much akin to a dumpster-sized shopping spree through Saks Fifth Avenue’s wares.

Sure, it’s all stuff the city wants, maybe even needs. But with dwindling municipal revenue sources –primarily from lagging sales and mortgage tax receipts –it’s not stuff the city can afford. More specifically, it’s not stuff the few remaining lower-middle class property owners can afford. Few people among this class welcome a local tax increase that is almost to double digits before even including the full cost of the biggest ticket item on the wish list.

The city is now facing an 8.63 percent tax hike, a number that considers a little less than half the cost of the $17 million Public Safety fortress Keehn and lapdog Ron Kim have so brutally stumped for during their conglomerate campaign. Keep in mind, this increase is also figuring in the fact that Saratoga Springs is receiving $3.8 million in VLT revenues this year, a source that is about a solid in the future.

The question is where to make the cuts so that working-class citizens can still own property in the Spa City? Well, the most obvious one can be made next week in the voting booth. Hopefully, city voters will support a Mayor who spends more time finding answers to these fiscal questions rather than using the position for political attacks while stacking the city finances like a house of cards.