Coarse Comments Aside, Schaefer Bent on Action

G oing to watch William Donald Schaefer at work is like heading over to a Beltway overpass to take in a bloody car wreck: It's ghoulishly good fun. But then you ask yourself, is it really okay to like watching this?

Maryland's comptroller, the former governor and Baltimore mayor, has always thrived on being cranky, cantankerous and a little bit kooky. "He Says What You Think" was his campaign slogan for years.

But now he's 84, and whatever filters once kept him reasonably within bounds have gotten clogged up. He entered last week's Board of Public Works meeting in Annapolis looking slightly stunned. Even if Schaefer seems out of it, even when he over and over again asks speakers to repeat what they've just said, the comptroller manages to dominate the proceedings: With piercing glares, mocking faces and nasty retorts, he shuts down state staffers who presume to offer him information.

But as galling as those displays can be, Schaefer is the only one on the three-member panel who routinely and aggressively questions the merits of the multimillion-dollar contracts that state officials present to the board for approval.

When the Transportation Department proposes to spend $1.2 million on marketing for EZ Pass and other such road initiatives, Schaefer insists on hearing exactly how the winning company qualified for the contract. When a staffer assures him that everything's on the up and up, Schaefer interrupts: "Will you let me ask the question first, or is that impossible?"

The deal smells fishy, and while Gov. Bob Ehrlich squirms in the next chair, Schaefer sprays accusations: "You do this all the time," he tells the staffer. "You give it to who you want rather than who should get it." (Never mind that in this case, neither company in contention for the contract had previously done business with the state.)

"We follow the rules as best we can," the purchasing official says.

"You follow the rules, my foot," says the comptroller.

No one else on the board sees any merit to Schaefer's objections, and the contract is approved.

Schaefer interrupts, slings sarcastic barbs, mocks citizens testifying to the board and generally makes himself the focus of attention. (He is an equal-opportunity offender: When Ehrlich professes his deep commitment to historic preservation, Schaefer coughs loudly and clutches his chest in mock shock.)

To what effect? He tries to halt destruction of a historic building on the Baltimore campus of the University of Maryland, to no avail. But he manages to force reconsideration of a $14 million contract to beef up security at the truck gates at the Dundalk Marine Terminal.

I came to Annapolis expecting to find Schaefer the embarrassment that his opponents in the Sept. 12 primary make him out to be. Anne Arundel County Executive Janet Owens has made Schaefer's age a central issue of her campaign, arguing that "It's time" for him to go. Del. Peter Franchot of Montgomery County takes it a bit further, contending that there are now "serious doubts" about Schaefer's "mental and emotional fitness."