On Monday at noon, George Pataki will finally, blessedly, get out of the way. This state can then at long last breathe a sigh of relief and get back to actual governance. He is not, however, going away entirely, caught up as he is in the desire to cast wider the nets of his failure by running for President. On the one hand, that's a remarkable leap of faith on his part; on the other, one has to be strangely fascinated by the fact that he believes in himself so strongly that this quest of his hasn't been aborted by the incredulous derision it inspires. George Pataki leaves behind a state that neither loves nor hates him. If he inspires any reaction, arguably, it's boredom, the kind you get from an uncle whom you like at some level, but who can't stop yapping about golf. Your relief when this uncle finally leaves your Thanksgiving dinner is precisely what New Yorkers are feeling as the Pataki era draws to a close. Pataki is Calvin Coolidge, without the excitement. Pataki's legacy is, in fairness, mixed. He preserved more open space than any of his predecessors. He championed the cleanup of the Hudson. Until he started running for President, he supported gay rights and a woman's right to choose. He also cut taxes, especially in his first term, and took some steps to shrink state government, notably the sale of the World Trade Center in 2001. He even managed to deliver an on-time budget two years in a row. By the low standards set by contemporary republicans, he was not as bad as he could have been, which, I suppose, translates into a gentleman's C, politically speaking. What Pataki did not do was reform the scandalous condition of the state government. During his first run, in 1994, he pledged to do away with the three-men-in-a-room régime, and to only serve two terms; he broke both pledges. The state budget grew from $59.0 billion in 1995 to $112.5 billion in 2006. He did nothing to change the culture of secrecy surrounding public authorities. There was no investment in public infrastructure, such as broadband upstate or new subways downstate. He made sure New York City schools were underfunded. Meanwhile, upstate New York has been bled white by high taxation, over-regulation and a lack of affirmative, pro-development public policy. The redevelopment of the World Trade Center is an embarrassing fiasco, complete with a politically motivated cornerstone-laying in 2004, timed to precede the RNC convention that same year. The fact that this cornerstone subsequently had to be removed says everything that needs to be said about the Pataki legacy. What more remains to be said is flamed by Fred Dicker, of the Murdoch Post, here. It's a magnificent tirade, even coming from that crusty old crank; here's an excerpt:

The magnitude of Pataki's betrayals - of his allies, of his obligations as a government administrator and, most importantly, of the people of New York - is hard to capture in a single column. Indeed, it's hard to believe unless you've seen it first hand. Here are some more unvarnished truths that help explain why this three-term governor's departure is widely welcomed at the Capitol: * Rarely did Pataki work at his job. When he could no longer avoid making a decision, he resorted to late-night cramming sessions. Friends calculated Pataki averaged about 15 hours a week of real work. That left most of the work of actually governing New York to a ragtag collection of private-sector political consultants and public-sector political hacks, whose often-ignorant and abusive treatment of the state workforce destroyed a once-proud corps of professional administrators. * He further alienated many in the press and political classes by walling off historically public hallways at the Capitol. This "Fort Pataki" served to deny public view of the stream of lobbyists, political consultants and other special interests that regularly trooped into the governor's office. * He held no more than three Cabinet meetings during his entire 12 years in office. He frequently didn't know the names of his commissioners and occasionally mispronounced them, even in public. * Pataki broke virtually every political promise he ever made. Before taking office, he said he wouldn't put his name on state Transportation Department signs that greet motorists entering New York because it was wrong to use public monies for self-promotion. Instead, he put his name, face and voice in more than $100 million worth of state-financed TV and radio ads. He pledged to sell the state aircraft fleet, then expanded and used it like never before; said he'd send his kids to public schools, then never did; insisted he'd never have the state take over the Long Island Lighting Company, then did; attacked his predecessor for making paid speeches, then did so himself; said he'd never serve more than two terms, then did.

Pataki single-handedly destroyed the New York republican party (good news, but unintended). He presided over an unprecedented decline of this state. His Lieutenant Governor wasn't even in the running for his succession. For over a year, he has abdicated his role in government in favor of auditioning elsewhere. It's a measure of the man that his absence wasn't really noticeable. Goodbye, George.