Phil Reisman: Cuomo controls neither sleet nor Preet

Twenty-nine days into January and already 2015 is shaping up as an annus horribilis for Gov. Andrew Cuomo.

That's Latin for a bad year.

It began on New Year's with the death of his father, the former governor, a lion of oratorical eloquence and progressive politics. Mario Cuomo's passing on the day of his son's inauguration seemed like an omen. What it means exactly is undetermined, but if this were a novel it would be a cliché.

Then came the departure of Larry Schwartz, the loyal secretary and behind-the-scenes operative who steered the ship of state with a panache worthy of King Henry VIII's court and Richard Nixon's first and second administrations.

Schwartz was a central figure in a New York Times story about Cuomo's mysterious decision in March to close down the independent Moreland Commission, which the governor had convened to investigate corruption in Albany. The Times reported that Schwartz called commission investigators to complain when attention was turned to Cuomo clients and campaign contributors and even ordered that a subpoena be withdrawn.

Working under Cuomo for one term may have been Schwartz's plan all along. Nevertheless, unflattering words like "tampering" and "obstruction of justice" followed him out the door.

Schwartz, who lives in White Plains, reportedly left for a private-sector job — though it's not clear exactly what he is doing. To date, I have ruled out Wal-Mart greeter.

At any rate, you can bet that when Schwartz cleared out his desk at the state Capitol he took all his cherished tchotchkes and the key to the skeleton closet. You can also bet that we haven't heard the last of him.

Nor have we heard the last of the Moreland Commission — which brings me to the State of the State address.

In his PowerPoint presentation, Cuomo got laughs when he referred to Senate Majority Leader Dean Skelos, Assembly Speaker Sheldon Silver and himself as "The Three Amigos." What made this especially weird was the fact that three state senators were also once called "The Three Amigos," and two of them — Pedro "Sushi" Espada and Carl Kruger — are serving time in prison.

Anyhow, in his speech last week Cuomo noted how the rough-and-tumble of politics had aged his power troika. He evoked the disco era.

"We were like 'Saturday Night Fever' dudes just four years ago," he said. "And four years later — it's really sad. Pictures don't lie. It's true. It really is true.

"But we believe, and I am sure I speak for Dean and Shelly, it was worth it and we would do it all again, wouldn't we?"

Well, this proved to be an unfortunate question — at least as far as Shelly was concerned. The very next day, Silver was indicted on federal charges he took $4 million in kickbacks. Left standing are two amigos, (or is it two Bee Gees?) who must be sweating mightily.

Who goes down next is anyone's guess. It's a parlor game in Albany.

U.S. Attorney Preet Bharara, who seems to indict elected officials on a quarterly basis, has promised that more will go down. He said, "Stay tuned."

Bharara was highly critical of Cuomo for shutting down the Moreland Commission. Though he hasn't said whether the governor's office is a target, the Silver takeout has shaken the power structure.

The message is more than clear: The U.S. attorney is following a directional map left behind by Moreland and is trying to establish a new legal standard, heretofore considered business as usual in the great hog trough of Albany, namely that it is a felony to accept payments from anyone seeking favors from the state.

Some conspiracy-minded people might've thought Cuomo's "blizzard" was deliberately created to distract public attention from the corruption scandal. If that were true, then he had many accomplices. They would have to subpoena Al Roker, Mr. G and all the other skilled practitioners of the barometric arts, who read the radar and predicted we were going to get buried under 162 feet of snow — at least.

It's unusual to get a "snow day" for six inches of white stuff, but Cuomo's scary forecast essentially gave everybody an unscheduled holiday, including public school teachers who do not like him very much. This is an advance of another fake day off, the Monday after the Super Bowl when millions will be calling in sick.

With a wave of his hand, Cuomo can shut down an anti-corruption panel of his own creation and the New York City subway system. Now that's power for you.

But there are two things the governor cannot control — Preet Bharara and Mother Nature. This must be driving him crazy.

Reach Phil Reisman at preisman@lohud.com. Twitter: @philreisman