The sands of another year are about to drain out of the big hourglass? How did that happen?

And yet, it's irrefutable, as well as reviewable. There's a week left in my pocket calendar, so it's time to buy a new one and reflect on the foibles and follies, on promises made and forgotten, amid the river of news that poured around our rock here in the river called the State Capitol.

Arguably, the biggest news of the year was the midnight ride of Paul Revere... I mean Ned Lamont, who resigned from the ultra-exclusive Round Hill Club in Greenwich and mounted a well-moneyed challenge to U.S. Sen. Joe Lieberman.

Sure, the Nedster lost by 113,000 votes, but nearly 451,000 Connecticut residents found themselves doing something they had vowed they'd never do again after the great Lowell "Big Guy" Weicker brought us the income tax in 1991: vote for a Greenwich millionaire.

In the end, and maybe at the beginning as well, Lamont's great grandfather, Thomas W. Lamont — close associate of J.P. Morgan — would have called the $16 million campaign a bad investment.

But if anything, Lamont's pursuit was less quixotic quest than a sure sign of change that swept through the country and gave Congress back to the Democrats.

It even forced Lieberman to say that nobody wanted to bring the troops back from Iraq more than him. Now, safely ensconced in the cushy Senate for another six years, he wants to send more troops to Iraq.

It makes me wonder how many Connecticut

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residents are suffering from voters' remorse around now.

And how about U.S. Rep Chris Shays, R-4, whose tenure has been negated by the Democratic sweep of the House and who's now the only Republican congressman from New England. Can someone get victor's remorse?

New Haven Mayor John DeStefano, who was buried in a November landslide, first won the May Democratic convention's nomination, then lost after an hour of arm-twisting. Four million dollars later, he won the primary and the booby prize of being the Democrat designated to be crushed by Gov. Jodi Rell. Those political soap operas came during a year when the entity strangely named Broadwater decided to locate its huge natural-gas terminal 11 miles off Branford and essentially make Long Island Sound narrower, not broader.

On the plus side, the Legislature finally committed to invest about $250 million in the Teachers' Retirement Fund, even as the state budget eclipsed $16 billion. In 1990, when Connecticut was in the midst of the financial crisis that would leave us with the income tax and Weicker's one term as governor, the state budget was $7 billion.

Lawmakers and Rell poured a cool $2.3 billion into the state transportation fund, an investment that should make you feel infinitely relieved as you sit in stopped morning-commuter traffic along I-95 in Milford, Stratford, Bridgeport and Fairfield, or on Route 8 in Shelton or Trumbull. This was the year that Ernie Newton, the former state senator from Bridgeport, was sentenced to five years for bribery, evading taxes and using campaign money for personal expenses, including that money pit of a rattletrap Jaguar.

In the revolving door of state corruption, John "Why Should I Resign if I've Done Nothing Wrong" Rowland, finished his 10-month prison term in February and Peter Ellef, his former scowling chief of staff, began a 30-month prison term, in the corruption case that keeps on giving.

Oh yeah, and Bill Tomasso, of the eponymous New Britain construction group that fixed up Rowland's infamous lakeside cottage, was also sent away for two-and-a-half years.

Continuing the self-destructive theme, William "Tocco" Sullivan, the former chief justice of the Supreme Court who has retired to senior status, decided to delay the release of a controversial court case in an attempt to help the candidacy of Associate Justice Peter Zarella.

In the fallout, the entire high-court panel has been ruled out to possibly succeed Sullivan, who's still appealing a 15-day suspension imposed by the state Judicial Review Council for ethics violations.

This year Republican, and some Democratic, lawmakers continued their love-hate relationship with Rep. Chris Caruso, the veteran Bridgeport Democrat, whom some think may become the city's next mayor and whom others believe can light up a room like a grease fire.

Caruso, who has unsuccessfully made Lisa Moody, Rell's chief of staff, one of his pet projects, got involved in a strange, nasty, embarrassing confrontation on the House floor.

It was late on the night of May 3 and campaign finance-reform legislation was on the verge of falling apart when Caruso traded expletives with two Republican leaders.

Speaker of the House James A. Amann, D-Milford, vigorously smashed his gavel trying to halt the confrontation. If a quick-thinking aide had been prepared, they could have thrown a bunch of fresh almonds under Amann's gavel and we could have had shelled nuts for the holidays.

Ken Dixon's Capitol View appears Sundays in the Connecticut Post. You may reach him in the Capitol at (860) 549-4670 or e-mail him at kdixon@ctpost.com.