Does Kathy Boudin deserve to go free?

This column begins just before noon on Thursday, Sept. 18, under threat of the tropical storm Isabel knocking out power in the Mid-Atlantic region, where I reside. Maryland's governor has declared a "state of emergency," following the lead of his counterpart in Virginia the day before. There's a slight wind currently, and not a drop of rain has fallen. Most of the schools in Baltimore are closed, and my own sons will have a half-day; they've already requested "provisions" for the anticipated inclement weather, including a six-pack of Fresca and several bags of Doritos chips. Tomorrow's classes have been cancelled.

Watching the local news?which I rarely do?is even more weird than usual. There's a battery of weather and beat reporters, standing on beaches in Ocean City acting as if they're embedded reporters in Iraq. Despite the frowns and grim predictions, this is the Super Bowl for the normally maligned television grunts, a moment to shine, so to speak, instead of occupying the lowest rung on the food chain of such organizations.

Should fortune look kindly upon yours truly, and I live another 40 years, it'll be swell to track just how kooky the world becomes season by season.

Yesterday, former domestic terrorist Kathy Boudin was sprung from prison after serving 22 years for her role in the 1981 murder of two cops and a Brink's security guard in Rockland County. The New York Times was pleased by her parole, editorializing on Aug. 22 that Boudin's time served as a "model prisoner" justified this misguided decision. Reporter Lisa W. Foderaro, assigned to cover the actual release, wrote: "Kathy Boudin, the 1960's radical and fugitive, walked out of prison into the brilliant September sunshine this morning? Appearing relaxed but not smiling, Ms. Boudin turned around in the parking lot at 8:45 a.m. and waved a slow farewell to her friends among the inmate population, who were watching her departure from inside the prison."

Foderaro quoted, in 60s parlance, one of the limousine liberals who'd been active for many years in securing Boudin's freedom. Letty Cottin Pogrebin, a founding editor of Ms. magazine, said, "She paid a very heavy price for a very foolish move when she was young and idealistic, and she had deep remorse. I know that, and I know that she has suffered enormously and has been a model prisoner."

The numerous children of the victims, who grew up without fathers, are no doubt comforted that Boudin was a "model prisoner." And maybe they'll have a Jesse Jackson-like moment with Columbia professor Todd Gitlin, who was supportive of Boudin. Gitlin, a professional left-wing gadfly, and favored Times op-ed contributor, was also a 60s activist; however, unlike Boudin, he didn't, to quote the Daily News' Stanley Crouch, "lose his mind in the process." Meaning, I gather, he saved his venom for the printed page rather than practicing violence willy-nilly. Nonetheless, Gitlin told the Times: "She is the perfect parolee. She represents the possibility for redemption? To say that Kathy Boudin can be redeemed is to say the 60's were worthy."

I'll return shortly to New York's disgraced but still dominant daily?which hasn't changed a whit in its flagrant bias under the new regime of gentleman Bill Keller as opposed to guilty white Southerner (and like Bill Clinton, honorary negro) Howell Raines?but first a timeout.

Rudy Giuliani don't have no glass jaw. That was quite a rebuke of Mayor Mike he gave in Ireland the other day, as reported by the Daily News. Rudy, asked by an Irish broadcaster whether the country ought to emulate New York's punitive no-smoking policy, let it rip. "Some people want to make the choice of being able to have a cigar or a pipe or a cigarette after dinner," the speaker-for-hire said. "And they should be provided with an opportunity to do that." He was more specific about the chaos Bloomberg's goof has caused in the city: "There's no action without an equal and opposite reaction."

Naturally, Giuliani's flacks had to temper their boss' opinion, saying it wasn't a criticism of his fluke successor, but the message was clear. Bloomie don't surf, but he wish he could.

Time out. Looks like I was grossly premature with the flip weather analysis above. It's now Friday afternoon (Sept. 19), and power has just been restored to my neighborhood, 20 hours after the house went dark. Although the family, after living in Tribeca for 16 years, is conditioned to such emergencies?to put it extremely mildly?the storm wasn't much fun. The boys occupied themselves for maybe 25 minutes telling ghost stories, and then the bitter reality set in; no cable, computers, a refrigerator of slowly rotting food and nothing to do but hit the sack.

I had about an hour left of juice on my laptop and used almost all of it periodically following the Bosox's nail-biting win over the Devil Rays in Boston Thursday night. Hey, it's a pennant race and my team might actually make it to the playoffs, especially with Ichiro's Seattle Mariners in a meltdown worthy of Sens. John Kerry and John Edwards.

Baltimore City and County?and obviously the rest of Maryland and surrounding states?were fairly devastated by the Boudin-like Isabel. It didn't quite compare to bad old Donna, a monster hurricane that tore apart Long Island when I was a tyke of nine or 10, but news of the Inner Harbor flooding, cars submerged into the water in Fells Point and assorted fatalities certainly make me feel a little silly in predicting a mere drenching of the grass. Early this morning, our lawn was covered with tree branches and other debris; the patio's awning was ripped to shreds; and down the street a giant oak fell on a well-appointed mini-mansion. When electricity was restored, a simultaneous power outage in our backyard occurred, causing a fire in the bushes and a number of live lines dangling where the boys usually play football.

Nevertheless, we got off easy. My friend Alan, who lives out in the county, is still without water and power, and a normal living environment isn't expected to return for several days. A locksmith came to open our garage door, which was locked electronically, and told us of his buddy in Middle River, MD, whose house was completely destroyed.

Against my better instincts, the events of the past 30 hours can't be blamed on either France or Teddy Kennedy.

The Massachusetts senator was just joined by nephew Bobby Kennedy Jr. in endorsing eclipsed-by-empty-suit-Wesley-Clark candidate John Kerry. Bobby, a genial fellow whom I had the pleasure of interviewing for New York Press a few years ago, is a one-issue guy?aside from a blanket endorsement of any Democrat who still breathes?the issue, of course, being the environment. In Friday's Boston Herald, the middle-aged scion who scotched his own promising political career by dabbling in heroin, was quoted as praising Mr. Heinz's "bold and visionary" environmental record.

Meanwhile, Uncle Ted, whose dim-witted son Patrick is backing mentor Dick Gephardt, sputtered to anyone who'd listen that President Bush's invasion of Iraq was a "fraud" and a "bankrupt policy." Again in the Herald?for some reason the online Globe didn't mention Tubby Ted's temper tantrum?the senator had choice words for the president, which bordered on the paranoia that's displayed twice a week in the New York Times by the vile Paul Krugman.

Kennedy, who've must've supped with Oliver Stone or Robert Redford the night before, said: "This [the war] was made up in Texas, announced in January to the Republican leadership that war was going to take place and was going to be good politically? My belief is this money [for the ongoing attempt to bring democracy to Iraq] is being shuffled all around to these political leaders in all parts of the world, bribing them to send in troops."

Funny?actually, not all that amusing when you consider history?that Teddy is apparently hung up on "bribes." I imagine his family is quite familiar with those sorts of transactions, whether it was with the mob, Papa Joe's bootlegger friends, or the late Richard Daley, infamous mayor of Chicago.

Now, in the spirit of the commercial aspect of this fat edition of New York Press, I'd suffer pangs of guilt by not mentioning several of the city's institutions that the family misses now that we're ensconced in "The Land of Pleasant Living." Except for anything that involves crabs?cakes, soft-and hardshell, not to mention coddies?the restaurants here generally suck. Would that the owners of Roc, Periyali, Ecco or El Teddy's open branches near our neighborhood of Guilford. As for takeout pizza, I doubt I'll ever find the equivalent of Il Mattone (Greenwich St.), a joint that not only whips up the best pies in Manhattan but boasts an extraordinary staff as well. And though the boys are very fond of Comics Kingdom in nearby Roland Park, they are sad that jabberfests with the staff at St. Mark's (Chambers St.) and Forbidden Planet are no longer part of their weekly routine.

My wife, on occasion, pines for Barneys and Bliss Spa and a decent shoe store. My own needs are simple, but a Virgin Megastore would be convenient. In addition, we all prefer Yankee Stadium, even with all the moronic Sox-haters who chant "1918" once they push through the turnstiles, to the retro Camden Yards, which houses the wretched Peter Angelos' Baltimore Orioles.

Finally, as I haven't the stomach for a return to the Times, a word about Andrew Sullivan, the conservative/gay/Catholic blogger whom I swear, after vigorously defending President Bush since 9/11, will flip to Howard Dean one of these months. Sullivan smeared the National Review on Sept. 18, because its online columnist John Derbyshire made light of the aforementioned Boudin's work with AIDS patients, facetiously calling the affliction "a fashionable venereal disease." Bad taste, I agree, even if Derbyshire was attempting to put Boudin's release in perspective.

Sullivan ranted: "Some of the editors at that magazine call themselves Christians. Yet they gladly publish a smug, sickening bigot like this. This isn't funny. It isn't even pertinent to any broader point. It's despicable."

Oh, please. Diversity in a magazine?eclecticism?is something to admire, not condemn, whether or not you, or even the editors of a publication, agree with an offensive article. Sullivan ought to know that by now.

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