Public Advocate Betsy Gotbaum (D) is one of several names
often discussed for the 2009 mayoral election. One of her biggest cheerleaders:
husband and labor leader Victor Gotbaum, who told City Hall in
this past February's “Political Power Couples" issue that she would be "the
best god-damned mayor the city's ever had."
Gotbaum recently sat down at Everest Diner on Chatham Square
to talk about her mayoral hopes, why the city needs an ombudsman and the only
dog she could never train.
What follows is an edited transcript.
City Hall: Have you gotten
any particularly interesting calls lately?
Betsy Gotbaum: About five
years ago, I got on this kick about food stamps. And the reason I got on a kick
about food stamps is I got a call from one guy—his name is Eric Wilson—and Eric
was in a homeless shelter with his children and he had been denied food stamps.
Which is illegal. So that started a whole huge program where, in addition to
getting more information out to New Yorkers to know about how you get food
stamps, we were able to persuade the powers that be that they should reduce the
application to two pages. And then I was able to raise about $1 million through
private money to give to the United Way to do a food stamp
outreach project—all from one call.
[Gotbaum orders white meat
turkey sandwich on whole wheat toast with extra mustard on the side and an ice
tea.]
CH: How do you respond to people who either don’t know what the public advocate is, or worse, are familiar with the
office and want to get rid of it?
BG: I totally disagree with
people who say they want to get rid of the office. Because I think this is a
very important office for one huge reason: the mayor of New York City has an enormous amount of power and control. You
need checks and balances. For example, when the school bus fiasco occurred,
that was wrong. It was just the wrong thing to do. And somebody had to call them on it.
CH: But a lot of people were
calling them on it. 
BG: Well I think I was the
first one.
CH: Since you’re a citywide
official, does that make your crticism more powerful?
BG: Sure, I think it does. It makes it more powerful. When I was Parks
Commissioner, one of the things that was the most helpful for me was when a
Council person or a civic leader would call me and say, “Such and such a park
is a mess.” And I’d say, “Wait a minute. My supervisor told me that it’s fine.”
They’d say, “No, no no—it’s a mess, it’s horrible. Come out and see.” And I’d
go out and see and they were right. Your supervisors want you to look good,
they want to look good, but you can’t be in every park at all times.
CH: Your husband says you’d
be a great mayor. Do you agree with him?
BG: Oh, I agree with him, sure.
CH: Are you interested in
running for mayor?
BG: Leaving my options open.
CH: You could actually be mayor since Bloomberg has been making
moves to possibly run for president. Which means you could be mayor, briefly.
BG: If he were to step down, I would be mayor for 60 days. Or if he won, I would be mayor for 60
days. And then I’d be mayor for 60 days and of course I’d run then—if you hand
it to me. Of course I’d run then.
CH: Where in New York did you grow up?
BG: Upper East Side.
CH: And now you live on the Upper West Side.
BG: Yup. I lived in Brooklyn for 20 years.
CH: You were there before it
was the trendy borough.
BG: We sold our house before
it was trendy. We also bought our apartment before it became trendy.
CH: How long have you lived
on Central Park West?
BG: Ten years. And when we got it, it hadn’t become the Beresford.
CH: And now you have Jerry
Seinfeld as your neighbor. Do you ever see him?
BG: I see him in the gym. He’s gone all summer, but when he’s here in the
winter I see him all the time. We’re on the same schedule.
CH: Do you have opinions
about the Upper East versus the Upper West? Do you miss your old neighborhood?
BG: Nope.
CH: Do you feel like a
traitor?
BG: Nope.
CH: Do you like the Upper West Side better?
BG: I love it. Different feeling, different atmosphere, much more friendly, I
think.
CH: You’ve got a big family.
BG: They’re pretty much
spread out. My daughter and her three children came to stay here in New York. So I sort of took a week off. Then they just went
to visit their grandfather, my former husband. And actually when I was coming
into the restaurant, he was calling me to talk to me about the behavior of our
grandchildren.
CH: Which was good, or bad?
BG: This year was better
than last year. There is progress. And you know, you really can’t say
anything—how your children bring up their children. You can tell your own kids
what to do…,
CH: You have some opinions about
the way your daughter’s bringing up her kids.
BG: I generally have
opinions. But the kids were great this time. A few meltdowns, as they call them. I think when children have meltdowns, they should be put in a room with the door closed until the meltdown ends. And
I don’t think you can reason with a six-year-old. I
remember I was never allowed to do whatever I
wanted when I was growing up.
CH: And you had to finish
what was on your plate.
BG: You had to finish what
was on your plate—there were starving children in China, right?
CH: Right.
BG: In my family, that doesn’t seem to be happening.
CH: There’s a more
progressive approach.
BG: Or something.
CH: Recently you requested
that the city’s Conflicts of Interest Board hammer out some rules about personal
versus public the use of the city car. They haven’t done that. What’s your approach to making those distinctions?
BG: If I’m in the city, in
the five boroughs, I have to have what they call my package. And the package is
security and a driver. The Speaker of the City Council has a full contingent of
police, so they drive. And Bill Thompson and I don’t. So we never take the car outside of the city. We have a problem
coming up in August—there’s a big senior picnic out in Sunken Meadow, which is in Long
Island. And after that I’m
going out to Long Island for the weekend. And so I’m now going to rent a car
somewhere in Long Island, where my car will take me to rent the car and drive
out.
One time I was in Brooklyn Heights for a pension board meeting. I had a half an hour, and—this is how it
all started—I went shopping on Montague Street to buy somebody a birthday present. And the reporter
from the Post is standing around the corner and saw me. But I don’t think that’s—am I supposed to take a cab to do the shopping and leave the car? So that’s why we’ve all asked,
please—whatever we’re supposed to do, we’ll do.
CH: So do you keep track of your mileage then?
BG: I always do.
CH: Do you have any pets?
BG: No. I love dogs. My last dog we got at the pound—the dog from hell. I loved him but I couldn’t train him to do anything. He bit me a couple of times. Eight months, trying to make
this dog like me. The only funny story with this dog—which isn’t that funny, actually—he bit me, and one day I was having a
meeting with [Health] Commissioner Frieden. And he had bitten me here [motions
to face]. And I came in and he sees blood and—as you know, he’s a doctor—he says, “What’s that? Are you okay?” I said, “Yes. My feelings are
hurt. It’s a dog bite.” He says, “Maybe you should go and have that
looked at.” He was wonderful—he took care of it. The dog had all his shots and everything. So a few days later, I got a notice
from the Department of Health—this had nothing to do with Tom Frieden—it was a coincidence because my husband had been
sitting in the park holding the dog on a leash
and the dog had bitten somebody. And I got this notice because
the dog was registered in my name, “If your dog bites one more person we’re going to have to destroy it.” And then we
found a Catholic priest who was going to train him, and the priest couldn’t
train him, so the priest found a home [for him] in Maine.
CH: Hopefully he’s happy in Maine.
BG: He’s happy. I hear from
the woman who has him. He lives on a farm with seven dogs, happy as a clam—loves her, which makes me furious. I will get a dog again.
CH: You put a lot of energy
into raising money for projects undertaken by the public advocate’s office.
BG: Yes. It becomes
political. The mayor controls the budget. If he cuts the budget, then you got
to go to the speaker and beg for the speaker to restore it. It’s a dance I’ve done for six years and it’s wrong. We’re not talking about a lot of
money—we’re talking about $3 million in a $59 billion budget. And people say
they don’t think the office is worth having? Eric Wilson
thinks it’s worth having, right? All the hundreds of people that we help each
year think it’s worth having—I think for $3 million you’re getting a pretty big
bang for the buck. But I think it needs an independent budget and I have to try
to figure out how to get that.
CH: Do you like to cook?
BG: I love to cook.
CH: What are your
specialties? Do you like baking—,
BG: I hate baking. I’m
terrible at baking. I’m good at fish, vegetables, salads, chicken. I’m not a
good baker because I don’t measure well.
CH: Does your husband ever
cook you dinner?
BG: Oh, please!
CH: Does he microwave you
dinner? Order out dinner for you?
BG: He can’t even use the microwave. He can order dinner. You sort of give up
after a while.
CH: What’s the last movie
you saw?
BG: “Sicko.” I thought it was terrific. I don’t think everything is perfect in Canada, and I certainly know it’s not perfect in England or France, but the exaggeration is very funny and the stories
about what goes on in this country were horrific. It just brought home what I
really believe—we really have to do something
about the healthcare system.
CH: What’s the biggest
mistake you made in office so far?
BG: Using the car when I shouldn’t have—but I didn’t know, I didn’t do it on purpose. Because it became a big deal and it’s so distracting
from me and the office. It was a mistake, I made a mistake and I was wrong, but
it was a huge mistake. And nobody told us. Why don’t they tell us? Give us the policy. We all want to know. I’m not
unusual. That’s the one that I feel was the most—it caused a lot of anxiety in
our office and it caused me a lot of personal anxiety.
CH: How do you feel you’ve been treated by the press?
BG: Part of the problem is you asked me, “A lot of people don’t know what the public advocate does,” and part of that is that it’s sometimes very hard to get the press
interested in some of the issues that I’m interested in. I’m not whining, I’m
just saying that seems to be the truth. And maybe I should pick better things
to be concerned about, but that’s not who I am. I really do care about other people that nobody else cares about. But I love the
press. I get very irritated at one particular publication because I’m not treated
fairly.
CH: Can I guess which one it
is?
BG: No. But I have no
complaints. You know what I mean.
