Some say the best truths hide inside humor. Which could mean that the Hudson Valley's biggest political celebrities, just now, are longstanding state senator John Bonacic, because of his sense of style, and congressional candidate Zephyr Teachout, because of her being from Vermont... which ties her to Bernie Sanders.

At least this is according to the witty lyrics and sketches put forth at Tuesday night's 116th annual Legislative Correspondent's Association performance in the Albany Convention Center, entitled "Downton Andy" this year.

The LCA is New York State's version of the Gridiron Club, or White House Correspondents Association. It's located between the state senate and state assembly in a giant, mezzanined cavern of a room crowded with huge black and white photos and drawings of all the state's governors, tangles of wires and wifi systems, a water cooler and old urinal-only loo, plus several outlying offices. Its membership includes reporters from the big New York City dailies, the Times Union, what remains of the wire services, and a number of television and radio stations from around the state. Plus a pile of Politico staffers, culled from all the other outlets.

The annual LCA show, started the year Benjamin Odell took over the governorship from Teddy Roosevelt, matches new lyrics to old pop songs as a means of wittily addressing the political landscape covered by its members over the previous year. Acting is hammy, the singing perfunctory but occasionally dazzling, and the overall mood of the evening fun and a bit acidic.

What was there to learn this year? Shaped as a whodunnit concerning the loss of Governor Cuomo's beloved executive windbreaker, which he's seen wearing during disasters (and sees as bringing him good luck and good poll numbers), "Downton Andy" used a turn-of-the-century motif but played up Preet Bharara's successful scandal investigations into Albany politics as its sub-theme. Show-stoppers included a version of "Me and Mrs. Jones" as sung by Sheldon Silver, admitting his indiscretions as little more than "I've got two things going on;" Cuomo singing an ode to his windbreaker (to the tune of "Matchmaker, Matchmaker"), New York Mayor Bill DeBlasio in guerilla outfit about how he'd "Like To Put The Dems In Charge," and Lieutenant Governor Kathy Hochul dreaming about becoming governor to the tune of "Tomorrow" (which conveniently rhymes with Bharara).

Other big targets included western New York and Buffalo; Donald Trump wishing to be "Top of the World" (seems he DID scare the bejesus out of the press corps when he visited Albany last month); Bill and Hillary Clinton in Elvis get-ups singing an au courant version of "Burning Love;" and finally Sanders and Teachout, each in tie-dyed hippie gear, lamenting their home state as a modern-day Deliverance set to the tune of "Moonlight in Vermont."

Bonacic got his mention during a between-acts "Newsbreak," where his wardrobe was likened to a "superfund site." After the show, assemblywoman Claudia Tenney — who represents a tapeworm-like district that stretches through our area's towns of Crawford, Montgomery, Shawangunk, Wawarsing, Denning, Hardenburgh and so forth all the way up into Herkimer County — gave the GOP's videotaped response to the show. It was set up as a safari around Upstate, where the capitol was jail. But then she declined to make it available online.

Audience for the big show, which also had a full dress rehearsal on the 23rd, included state legislators and their staffs, lobbyists, various agency heads, and fellow journalists. Was there any of the worry that the evening's demonstrated too much of a closeness between the press and those they cover? Given the witty attacks, and vulnerabilities that come with any hammy performance, I'd say not.

Albany, in the final rounds, is a small town... especially when it comes down to its central capitol building and those who swirl around it and the various tall buildings around it. Everyone, now that paid-for dining is frowned upon, tends to lunch together in the canteen-like Prime down on the Concourse. They all get coffee at Dunkin Donuts, the only food vendor within the grand Chazy limestone building itself.

Moreover, it seems, they all follow the same big stories based in the big city to the south, and occasionally elsewhere upstate.

In other words, there's room for more news. Just not now.

Maybe tomorrow (Bharara?)