By Mark Z. Barabak and Richard Simon|July 06, 2009
Reporting from San Francisco and Albany, N.Y. — As California lawmakers stay locked in partisan gridlock, residents might take small solace in one fact: There is a legislative body even more divided, more hapless and more dysfunctional than the one in Sacramento.
For almost a month, ever since Republicans briefly won two Democrats to their side and tried to seize control, the state Senate in New York has been paralyzed, split 31 to 31, as a stack of legislation -- legalizing same-sex marriage, extending the mayor's control of New York City schools, renewing the authority local governments need to conduct business -- sits in limbo.
During that time lawmakers have convened dueling sessions -- each claiming legitimacy -- huffed over which party should lead members in the Pledge of Allegiance and fought about whether a Republican lawmaker crossing the chamber to fetch a drink should have counted toward a quorum, allowing Democrats to pass more than 100 "noncontroversial" bills, which the state Assembly refuses to recognize.
In California, lawmakers are at least trying to resolve the state's budget crisis.
"It's shameful," said Seymour Lachman, an author and former Democratic state senator who teaches government at Staten Island's Wagner College.
As of Sunday, there was no resolution in sight. Democratic Gov. David Paterson, politically hobbled, exercised his scant authority over lawmakers by calling a brief special session -- the regular one ended June 22 -- over the Independence Day weekend. (A few lawmakers balked at sticking around, including Sen. Ruben Diaz, a Democrat and pastor from South Bronx, who left Albany for Sunday services. "They're going to arrest me in church?" he said.)
For all its seriousness, the legislative coup has often played like a putsch inside a circus tent. Democrats initially cut the lights and killed TV coverage from the Senate chamber, trying to thwart the GOP. Next, they attempted to lock rebel lawmakers outside, but Republicans found a key.
At one point, the two sides held simultaneous sessions, wielding separate gavels, passing two sets of legislation and heckling and shouting past each other to be heard by their respective presiding officers. (Democrats sat at their desks when Republicans led the Pledge of Allegiance, but later stood for their own recitation.)
