Good Enough for Government Work, Part II
by Mark Gardner

Yep, that’s me - - good enough for government work.

Again.

Good enough for government work.

It was originally an expression that was intended to mean the exact opposite of what you think.

In the 1940s, the phrase meant an effort that was so complete and exacting that it satisfied high government standards, especially in the war production industry. By the 1960’s, the phrase had disparagingly morphed into one that described lax effort and a slipshod product.

But for me, right now, it means I’m good enough, and lucky enough, to have obtained my second job working for a governmental entity.

My first government job was in 1997 at the New York State Insurance Department. As of two months ago, my second government job — 24 years later — is in the Westchester County Law Department. Will this possibly be my last job? Who knows? I’m 62. With the many revelations prompted by Covid 19, the most important of which is an increased awareness of one’s mortality, this could be it.

My first experience — at the Insurance Department — was very rewarding and pleasant. So much so that I was not just willing but also eager to give it a go for a second time.

I started at the Insurance Department in September 1997 as a Deputy Superintendent under Superintendent Neil Levin. My path of entry into the Department was a little weird and not of my own making.

According to what I have been told, in the summer of 1997 then Superintendent of Banking Levin had lunch with Maurice “Hank” Greenberg of AIG to discuss Levin’s imminent appointment as Superintendent of Insurance. After Levin was appointed, he contacted Greenberg and asked if anyone working at AIG might be interested in joining his executive team. That offer was lowered about ten rungs down to my staff attorney level, and I jumped at the chance.

I sent in a resume, received a call from 25 Beaver Street, and had lunch with Greg Serio at a diner on Pine Street in lower Manhattan. Then I interviewed with Levin, and Deputy Jennifer Cooperman, but strangely, no Civil Service staff. At some point, I cleared all the hurdles, including fingerprinting and a criminal background check. Within a couple months I appeared for work and started on the second floor, working with Debbie Briffa, Susheila Elahie, Randi Berman, and others. The executive team was comprised of Levin, Jennifer Cooperman, Elizabeth McCaul, Greg Serio, and Steve Maluk. John Calagna was an adjunct member of the team as a sort of Presidential Press Secretary.

More recently, in April of this year, I found myself tiring as I entered my 40th year in the insurance industry. My career began in the spring of 1982. That was a time long ago and in a New York City far away, when there was no email, no iPhones, no Internet, and not even any fax machines. Secretaries — not “administrative assistants” — typed on typewriters. The primitive computers featured five-inch-wide screens and captured data on “floppy disks”. Smoking was allowed . . .everywhere. People were drinking liquor during lunch at places like The Drug and Chemical Club, the City Midday Club, and other men’s clubs that actually barred women from joining as members.

As part of the many departments and divisions, and the thousands of County employees in Westchester County, there is a Law Department the size of a medium law firm. Sixty-five lawyers and additional staff are housed in the County Office Building in White Plains.

In late August, I appeared for work as a Senior Assistant Deputy Attorney, specializing in insurance matters. Under a state law, (the mysterious “6N”), the County is able to self-insure itself to cover its liability, including its liability for its extensive, County-wide, bus service. It’s as if Westchester County is running its own insurance company — they could call it the Westchester County Liability Company. Due to bus accidents and other incidents, there are plenty of claims filed with the County and plenty of insurance-related legal work.

Flashing back to September 1997, I was introduced within days to a variety of long-time employees. I met and often befriended many staffers at the Insurance Department, some of whom have long since retired or even passed away. But many of those retired are still around and return for Department retirement lunches. Sam Wachtel, Anne Kelly, Vinnie Laurenzano, Mark Presser, Marty Carus, Steve Maluk, Wayne Cotter, and so many others reappear from time to time. I was intimidated by some of these folks. Okay, not by Wayne Cotter, but there were Bureau Chiefs and others who knew more about P&C insurance than I ever would.

September 1997 was a true time of transition for me. (No, not that type of transition). When working as a lawyer for AIG, my role was to defend the insurer from state regulators. Then, just a few days later at the Insurance Department, I was part of a team whose objective was, figuratively, to lift up the financial skirts of insurance companies and look underneath.

And there was power in the halls of 25 Beaver Street. If you wanted to request the presence of some high-ranking insurance company executive, all that needed to be done was to make a phone call and a demand. The very next day, if necessary, some Vice President from MetLife, Fireman’s Fund, or another household-name insurance company would appear, chastened and humbled.

But back in 2021, it's different here at the County. The County is not regulating insurers. It’s a government entity that tends to many different functions. For example, it operates an airport and a prison. It even has a “Parks and Rec”, like the TV show. Sadly though, from what I have been told, there is no one here who works as a “lineman for the County,” a job extolled by Glen Campbell in his 1968 song, “Wichita Lineman.”

Interestingly, the County is part of the same state pension system of which the Insurance Department is a member. Due to some quirk in the law, (or maybe it was intentional?), I can start the stopwatch of my participation in the New York State pension system when I began working for the Insurance Department in 1997, not the County in August 2021. I could be classified as Tier 4 rather than Tier 6, which is what I would be if the clock started in August 2021. Punchline: if I work four years at the County, I may be able to claim a very small pension for five years of total service.

And it looks promising. Just like inside 25 Beaver Street, in the County’s White Plains headquarters there is none of the aggressive, competitive behavior found in the private sector. No one is trying to climb over someone else to grab the single promotion for which eight people are eligible. It’s a very friendly, cordial environment. Just as the Insurance Department’s OGC was staffed in 1997 with very capable lawyers, like Bonnie Steingart, Paul Altruda, Paul Zuckerman, and so many others, the Westchester County Law Department is staffed by many top-notch counsel. The Westchester County Attorney is, ironically, a former insurance litigator who was a partner in two major insurance law firms.

Strangely, everything old is new again. After spending many years in cubicles with low walls, I have a new job that comes with an actual office. Privacy again! There is even an office telephone with a cord. But it’s not a voyage back in time. No one is smoking in the office, or out drinking martinis at lunch. And just to confirm I’m not back in 1982 in a Twilight Zone episode, I checked the copier outside my office door. Whew: it can scan documents and print them in color.