Submitted by Karen Fassuliotis
Oh, bless your heart Brian Raabe for that Economics 101 sermon—truly, I felt the full weight of your 25 years of tax-paying wisdom descend upon me like a gentle Greenwich spring rain. (Raabe: Fassuliotis Waves False Flag on Taxes Feb 15, 2026). I mean, who needs quantum entanglement when we have your crystal-clear multiplication tables? Residents can indeed add and multiply, which is precisely why so many of us are multiplying our complaints about the latest assessment shock.
I notice you didn’t really challenge my model, you just said we need to spend more. And you’re right: prices rise. Groceries cost more. Woolworth’s is gone (RIP five-and-dime dreams). Roads crumble, schools leak (due to improper maintenance or fixes, not because they are falling apart) and apparently bridges need saving from the ravages of time itself. But let’s not pretend the town’s budget is just quietly keeping pace with inflation like a well-behaved Dow index. No, it’s ballooning faster than a hedge-fund manager’s ego at a cocktail party in the back country. Your “some of us are here for nice things” line is adorable—because nothing says “value for money” like another oversized multimillion-dollar capital project while the mill rate does its little interpretive dance to keep the illusion of lower taxes alive.
And the Mayflower bit? Chef’s kiss. I never claimed to have built the ship, Brian—just that after 50 years here, I’ve watched enough fiscal sleight-of-hand to spot a “don’t worry, the mill rate will save us” mirage from a mile away. You’ve got 25 years? Congrats on the silver medal in the “I’ve Been Here Long Enough to Lecture You” Olympics. No extra votes, as you so helpfully pointed out, but plenty of extra property taxes to show for it with no changes in the services we get.
You defend the new BET Democratic majority like they’re innocent bystanders who just wandered in after the assessment train left the station. Cute. Those increases were “in motion” long before, sure—but so is the spending spree that’s about to make sure the mill rate drop is about as satisfying as a diet soda after a five-course meal at an upscale restaurant on Greenwich Avenue.
As for Dr. Jones and her nonexistent checkbook? I never said she signs the checks; I said the system rubber-stamps whatever shiny new initiative comes down the pike while waving the “stellar schools, awesome police, great quality of life” flag like it’s a get-out-of-tax-increase-free card. Walk around Tod’s Point? I do—whenever I can get there. Beautiful views, yes. Also, beautiful delusion if you think “it’s been working since 1640” means we should all smile politely while our tax bills get a 5–10% haircut courtesy of a mill rate that masks budget creep disguised as inevitability.
We’re not agrarian potato farmers in Maine (though the quiet does sound tempting some days). We’re Greenwich residents who expect stewardship, not sanctimony. So yes, I’m unhappy about taxes. You are too, apparently—yet here you are, carping hard for the status quo like it’s a full-time job.
Maybe take that lap around Tod’s Point yourself, Brian. Burn off some of that hyperbole about how everything’s fine because we pay all that money to have nice things. The reality isn’t deception or propaganda—it’s basic arithmetic that even us former BET members can handle without a lecture from the rooftop of 25 years’ worth of paid-in-full receipts.
Still paying into the pot, still not thrilled about the size of the ladle.
Karen Fassuliotis
P.S. My 1,500 followers send their regards. They multiply faster than your mill-rate excuses.