You know a report about a hack-infested state agency like the Registry of Motor Vehicles really has to stink when it’s dumped late on the afternoon of Thanksgiving Eve.
But now it’s clear just how bad the smell is down there in Quincy. Thanks to the heavily redacted report, we understand why the hack political appointees of Gov. Charlie Baker had no time to actually do their jobs — at least one was too busy sleuthing, trying to find out which of his underlings was behind “an unpleasant scent issue.”
C’mon down, ex-boss of the Merit Rating Board, Tom Bowes, a corpulent Braintree hack. His sole qualification for a $114,000 registry job seems to have been his $350 contribution to Lt. Gov. Karyn Polito just before he was hired in 2016.
Bowes is gone now — the Braintree town councilor couldn’t even get elected mayor after seven motorcyclists were killed in June by an alleged drunk-driving Ukrainian who hadn’t had his driver’s license pulled as required under law by Bowes’ Merit Rating Board.
Being a good hack, Bowes knew how to pass the buck, but not much else. In the 294 pages of interview “notes” that Tall Deval released late on one of the slowest news days of the year, the tubby coat holder was thrown under the bus by a 19-year employee of the Merit Rating Board named Donna Cabey.
The outside interviewer asked her about Bowes’ work habits.
“Is he in every day?”
“He comes in,” Cabey sniffed, “but I do not know about the ‘work’ part.”
Not fair. Bowes had his priorities, Cabey acknowledged. He singled out employees to shun, especially when he was on flatulence patrol.
“He targeted an employee and did not communicate with/share information with a person that wore a hat and allegedly was the person behind an unpleasant scent issue.”
You can see why Tall Deval wanted this payroll patriot to have life-and-death responsibilities in state government. Bowes’ top deputy was Deb Easton, the sister of the Democrat mayor of Quincy, Tom Koch, one of Tall Deval’s first endorsers. She made $96,246 a year and was likewise eminently qualified — she had donated $350 to Baker.
Besides the unpleasant scent issue at RMV headquarters, Cabey explained, Bowes had other issues to deal with.
“He referred to his employees indirectly to others as ‘bitch’ and ‘poor white trash.’ It sounds like ridiculous, but how can people observing this respect him as a leader?”
One day, a thunderstorm was roaring through the area and everybody rushed to the window — this is a real-life variation on the old joke, why do state workers not look out the window in the morning? Because they want to have something to do in the afternoon.
Anyway, Bowes and the mayor’s sister and the rest are mesmerized by the dark clouds and the downpour outside when suddenly a loud clap of thunder is followed by a blinding flash of lightning.
“And he comments, ‘You better check yourself, you might have wet yourself.’”
Summing up, Cabey said no one had any confidence in Tall Deval’s pal because of his “lack of knowledge, integrity and accessibility for his responsibilities, quick to shift accountability for his responsibilities … inappropriate comments to people, shoulder rubbing, touching and otherwise inappropriate (in some staffers’ opinions) gestures.”
Who did this hack think he was? Joe Biden?
Bowes is gone now, but he had an opportunity to defend himself. The seven motorcyclists were mowed down on June 21, a Friday, and after that, it was all hands on deck in Quincy, except of course for Bowes.
He had no intention of letting the catastrophe interfere with his upcoming vacation to the U.K. He had tickets to the Red Sox-Yankees game in London, and, well, first things first. His patron Tall Deval felt the same way — the governor was not going to let seven funerals interfere with his own plans for a junket to Old Blighty.
In his interview, Bowes recalled his last day at “work” after the deaths.
“It was a Tuesday, and I was boarding a plane for Europe.”
Interviewer: “London, right?”
Bowes: “Yes, I was not with the governor like they say in the media.”
Interviewer: “He was there at the same time?”
Bowes: “Yes, but he was there for a conference for global warming.”
Typical Tall Deval. Never let the job interfere with a chance for some virtue-signaling.
Want more of the gross incompetence in Tall Deval’s administration? He sends down his Needham high-school friend, Mindy d’Arbeloff, to address the registry’s wait times. Her expertise?
“Twenty-five years in hospitality.”
Mindy has recurring amnesia, a big problem at the RMV apparently. There’s an “ombudsman” named Fred Apel. He’s asked about something.
“I don’t recall it. Memory isn’t what it used to be though.”
Another explains his duties: “I’m a manager. I manage.”
Something’s rotten at the registry. There is indeed an unpleasant scent issue, and it’s wafted all the way up to the State House. The RMV stinks on ice, whenever the hackerama releases the report.