The Mark Foley scandal just gets uglier and uglier.
I have no illusions that our elected officials are saints, but you'd like to think that a member of Congress would have better things to do than to fantasize about the private parts of the page corps.
But I know better.
I was a page in the Alabama State Senate during the summer of 1983 at the tender age of 13. Thank god, no one tried to get in my pantyhose. Nevertheless, there was a member of the Senate who was still single at the time and enjoyed a reputation as Montgomery's most eligible bachelor. Late one evening, the Senate was in fillibuster and I was parked in the chamber near the podium, keeping an eye out for a senator I'd been told to fetch. Senator Bachelor came striding down the aisle behind me. I caught his eye and said, "Senator Bachelor, have you seen Senator So-and-So?"
Senator Bachelor bent down next to my ear, and with the smell of alcohol on his breath, kissed my cheek and said, "No, honey, I haven't seen him."
I went to my uncle, who at the time held a high position in the administration. "Senator Bachelor kissed me!" He laughed it off and reassured me that the senator was a harmless flirt.
Perhaps, but in retrospect, I think my 13-year-old Spidey sense was correct: Grown men have no business planting their lips on teenagers.
Actually, the Senatorial Smooch was the least disillusioning moment during my two weeks in the Capitol. Mostly, I saw a bunch of supposed leaders indulging in a complete waste of time. Work? Ppplllpppttt. No one was working. Milling around, talking, enjoying martinis with dinner, oh yeah. But working? Nah. Hardly.
At this point, I'm pretty disgusted with the lot of 'em, the Dems and the GOP. The fact that Mark Foley is a wanker and a perv is hardly surprising.
My guess is, they don't have enough to keep them busy.