Painful days

It's a very sad day for those of us who live in New York and believed in Eliot Spitzer.

There's an important lesson to be learned, don't ever vest too much hope in a politician, sooner or later they'll break your heart.

I enthusiastically voted for Eliot Spitzer.  I was excited for the first time in a long time--I was actually voting for someone, not against someone else.

I believed that as a son of great wealth and great privilege, Eliot would look out for the less fortunate among us.

It hurts so damn badly when a Democrat fails, because we expect so much, we are so ready, and yes, so many are so desperate. But then we see, after all, they are just frail and sadly human.

What's the real tragedy in all this?  It's about New Yorkers who are hurting.  New Yorkers who thought after twelve long years of failed Republican leadership, Mr. Spitzer would be their champion, their protector, indeed their savior.  It's about New Yorkers who expected that Eliot would be a true friend and advocate, someone who would focus relentlessly on the crushing problems bearing down on average, hard working, tax paying citizens.

But it wasn't meant to be, I suppose.

He made a mistake. Not the act, or acts, but the lapse in judgement. He forgot momentarily about the New Yorkers who were counting on him.  This, for me, at any rate, is the real tragedy.

Being forgotten by politicians isn't anything we're not all accustomed to by now. But for some reason, this one really hurts. This politician seemed to have such promise. When a energetic young Democrat fails, it's a knife straight through my heart. He did us wrong. He wasn't entitled to strip away all that hope that we vested in him.  This is why my heart is so heavy.

Tragically, it's becoming increasingly clear to me that the American people can no longer expect the political class to perform.  Just look at the sad performance of the Democratic Congress we elected to end the war.

I have no idea where this leaves us as a nation, but for some reason, the Spitzer story moves me perilously close to the last straw. I believed him when he said he would be the instrument of reform.

Let me be clear, his transgression is not, in and of itself, a problem for me, though I am certain, it is a problem for his family.

If you still aren't clear about my own sense of gloom, I'd ask you to read Bob Herbert's column, it fairly summarizes my sense of despair.

I think exactly nothing of Republicans. They are no good and do nothing good. Their failures are not my failures.  I share nothing with them, I expect nothing of them, I do not take any great joy in their expected demise.  I expect nothing from Republicans. When they drop like diseased flies, I am neither chagrined nor shocked.

I hold Democrats to a much higher standard, and when they fall, it cuts through me like a knife through butter.

But the malignancy on our nation runs far deeper than the sad decline of one man. It's but a symptom of a disease which may be incurable.

One final thought. Imagine, this is how the investigatory authorities spend the taxpayer funds of our financially beleaguered and bankrupt nation, investigating prostitution rings and baseball players.

Like I said. Object lesson: don't ever vest too much hope in a politician, sooner or later they will break your heart.

What do we tell the children people?