Jun 27

spitzer.jpgGovernors: What the hell is up??

Let me rephrase that: Why are governors all over America running around  like rabbits in heat, and why are they not even smart enough to cover their tracks?

Right here in the Empire State, we had Elliott Spitzer. Or someone had him. Whatever. The press had a ball with this story: articles in the Post and News used every pun and innuendo known to man, including the line that Spitzer refuses to disclose his position on prostitutes. And even though he was never all that lovable to begin with, he’ll always be the LUV GUV to me.

And now we have Mark Sanford down there in South Carolina, or someplace south, the man who couldn’t decide where to say he was when he went missing for a week. Pick a continent, any continent! You gotta have a story first before you say I’m sticking to it.

Okay, the guy fell in love. I know this for a fact because David Brooks said so. On PBS! And we all know that being in love makes you act in weird and mysterious ways. If you’re lucky, you yourself have had a What-Was I-Thinking moment or two—all in the name of love.

But stop! (And where is Diana Ross when we need her?) These people are elected officials. Other people, citizens who actually gave a damn, went into to their polling places and pulled a lever or poked a chad for them. So not for nothin’, but shouldn’t they at the very least have enough self control to avoid Gallivanting Governor Syndrome, affectionately known as  GAGS . . .

What’s Love Got To Do With It?

If they can’t keep it in their pants, can’t these governors at least be discreet? Seems not. I mean, Mr. Sanford, your honor, or whatever you call governors, in love or not, couldn’t you have at least tried to come up with a plausible story? Have you not heard of beards? Alibis? Cover-ups? Watergate? Was there no one you could trust with your secret? No one who could tell a believable, not to mention consistent, story about your whereabouts?

On the other hand, as Dr. Phil will undoubtedly tell us, maybe down deep in your heart you really wanted to get caught. But this is not a good thing, Guv’nor. I know you have a lot on your mind, being a public official and all, but this was like, important. The last thing your party needed was another sex scandal.

Of course, all sex scandals do not involve Republicans —or governors for that matter. Clinton was President at the time of the Great Monica Megillah, if you’ll recall. But Bill had been a governor previously, so that puts him squarely in the GAGS club, for sure. How very appropriate.

Many other incidents of indiscretion have involved senators and congressman. Did you notice that I didn’t say congresswomen? The thing is, I can’t think of a single sex scandal involving a woman. There must have been some in recent memory (Lady Godiver doesn’t count) and if so, someone let me know. But let’s face it, it’s like serial killers: sex addicts —or just people in love or lust (sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference) who think they can get away with anything, any time, any place  – tend to be men.

So maybe this is not about governors at all, but about guys. H’mm. That would make it the Gallivanting Guy Syndrome. Still GAGS, no matter how you slice it, with apologies to Lorena Bobbitt, she of the short fuse and appropriate last name. Ouch!

Anyway guys, get a grip! Maybe that was a bad choice of words. Let me try again. Get a hold of yourselves? Whoops, let’s not go there either. What I’m trying to say, guys, governors, whoever, is that haven’t you ever heard of sublimating?

Find a hobby. Another hobby. Take night courses. And actually attend the classes. If all else fails, try things like taking cold showers or going to the gym. Long walks are good too, especially on colorful, historic trails with Indian-sounding names. And I’d stay away from South America if I were you. Just a suggestion.


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