From the beginning Utah DABC insiders have argued that the only real fix for the “cultural” problems at the liquor agency would be a radical change in management.

The state liquor monopoly has been dogged over the last year with employee complaints that they are bullied and spied upon by arrogant managers, who have driven out knowledgable managers. Restaurateurs and resort owners say the system makes it difficult for them to compete with over western cities for tourists and conventions.

Because Director Sal Petilos appears be shielded by the governor’s office, hope rested on whomever would fill the No. 2 position of deputy director. The deputy runs most of the day-to-day operations.

Wednesday, the long awaited announcement was made: Cade Maier was appointed deputy director. He replaces Tom Zdunich, whom many employees called “Petilos’ Dick Cheney.” Zdunich retired in August at the height of the DABC controversies.

Meier is a DABC insider who has worked for the agency as an information technology project manager and a warehouse general manager, making him what critics call “the safe” choice, but not the best choice.

According to former wine buyer and critic of the DABC Brett Clifford, the agency missed a bet by rejecting another candidate who is a liquor and wine broker in the private sector. (Herbert says he wants the state’s monopoly run on a business footing.)

“You had a very rare opportunity to pick someone who truly knows the liquor and wine business with an extensive background in the industry,” Clifford emailed Mike Mower, Gary Herbert’s deputy chief of staff. “He is also intimately familiar with the peculiarities of Utah’s broken wholesale and retail system as well the hospitality business. You don’t need another “yes” man—you need someone who can be honest about what’s wrong with the system and knows how to correct bad practices.”

Salt Lake magazine’s in-depth feature on the DABC troubles and Utah’s love-hate relationship with alcohol is arriving on newsstands now.

You can ignore phone calls from the repo man.

You can even ignore phone calls from your ex.

But don’t ever, ever blow off the Department of Alcoholic Beverage Control. Never.

The owners of The Woodshed Bar tried that ploy to their grief.

“Someone want to take them to the woodshed?” quipped Chairman John T. Nielson. But he wasn’t smiling.

A compliance officer told the commission that the owners of the The Woodshed Bar, 800 S. 60 East, SLC, never answered their phone or returned his calls to confirm they had gotten the required insurance for their business. (At one point, the wily compliance officer borrowed a cell phone and they didanswer that call. Way bad.)

The upside is: One (1) highly prized, rarer-than-hen’s-teeth, liquor license is available for the more than a dozen tavern-owner wannabes on the waiting list.

If, of course, they’re willing to answer their phone.

Snowden wasn’t really in the United States, of course. His face was on the screen of a bizarre Robot looking thing on wheels, streaming live from Russia, where he has been hiding from the United States government with Vladimir Putin’s blessing since he released documents above top secret to journalists in 2013.

The event was moderated by KUER’s Doug Fabrizio, who the program says was “vetted and approved” by Edward Snowden in advance.

Snowden seemed nothing if not well-rehearsed through the 90-minute Q&A session. But, to this observer, his insistence that he did what he did for the love of liberty rang a little hollow, given the location of his current residence.

He walked the audience through his version of the events that led to his fleeing the country, “I was exposed to things that I recognized were immoral and wrong,” Snowden told the not-quite-sold-out-crowd, “But like others in the intelligence community, I justified it… These are good people doing bad things.” And so, eventually, he says, he reached a point that he could no longer justify the government’s actions—and that’s when he contacted journalist Glen Greenwald and others with what he knew.

“I never published a single document. I worked in concert with journalists who then make a public interest decision,” Snowden explained, saying he instructed the journalists he worked with to tell the government what they planned to print before they printed it, to give the government a chance to respond or make an appeal based on public safety.

At times during this part of the conversation, Snowden seemed to railroad Fabrizio—interrupting him and determining the direction of the conversation. He bristled at Fabrizio’s mention of former C.I.A. Director James Wooley’s claim that Snowden has blood on his hands for the Paris attacks last month. Snowden defended himself against the claims by noting that the PRISM documents he released mentioned text messages and Skype, both of which were used by the Paris attackers. “This is a indication,” Snowden said, “That terrorists were not reading these documents.”

Snowden then upped the ante. “I haven’t talked about this publicly because I don’t think it’s right to play politics with people’s lives,” he said. But, he claims that the programs he uncovered have not stopped a single terrorist attack. “Paris. San Bernadino. This is the strongest evidence yet that mass surveillance does not save lives.”

Snowden claims he has offered to go to trial for his crimes. “Political exile as a political strategy has worked for thousands of years,” he said. Later noting that he and his lawyers are waiting for the government to call him back. He cited the inequality in the American justice system, noting Hillary Clinton’s Justice Department emails as a good example of what he suggested is a double standard.

And though his self declared love of freedom and liberty is what created his self- imposed exile to Russia, a place that has very little freedom and liberty, Snowden remains steadfast in his justifications for leaking the documents. When asked by Fabrizio if he was going to vote by mail in the 2016 election, Snowden smirked and said, “I might go to the embassy.”

Snowden took no questions from the audience before he wheeled off the stage in his robot-machine.