Every week, I receive telephone calls from (202) 224-4623—the Washington D.C. area code. Since many former CNN colleagues live in and around Washington, I answer in hopes somebody is seeking my valuable advice about running the nation. That’s not the case. It’s Vitter.
And when I hear the voice saying, “This is Senator David Vitter,” I hang up quickly. The whore-hopping Louisiana lawmaker may want me to set him up with a prostitute and I haven’t a clue where to find one. Maybe Brother Jimmy Swaggart can provide Vitter with names and addresses of old flames selling flings.
Admittedly, I may be jumping to the wrong conclusion regarding the purpose of Vitter’s calls. Perhaps I should listen to determine the reason he is contacting me. Politically, though, we have absolutely nothing in common. Indeed, I’m still recovering from the fact that Louisiana voters re-elected him to a second term following disclosures he was a liar, a cheat and a legislative obstructionist. As recentlay as this week Vitter has blocked a bill assisting Louisiana homeowners and businessmen obtain flood insurance.
It is hard to imagine what voters were thinking when they cast ballots for Vitter. I guess his 2010 re-election 2010 was facilitated by fantasies of hypocrites who condemn others for sins they wish they had the courage to commit. Exhibit One of my theory is four term Governor Edwin Edwards—a man who never saw a young woman he wouldn’t put moves on, or a corner he wouldn’t cut to accomplish his goals.
Although Edwards spent eight years in prison for corruption, he has been greeted as a conquering hero since his release from a gated government time-share complex in Oakdale, Louisiana. In a way, that is as it should be. Though ethically challenged beyond redemption in his political career, Edwards was convicted on questionable charges by a pill-addled federal hanging judge, and a jury that was manipulated by ambitous prosecutors willing to do anything to secure a notch in their gunbelts.
It was Edwards arrogance that led to his downfall. Despite character flaws, he was actually pretty good Governor—a great chief executive when compared to Bobby Jindal, the frequent flyer miles obsessed Ivy Leaguer who apparently holds the view that the earth is only six-thousand years old.
Besides advocating the inclusion of teaching creationism in public schools, Governor Smarty-Pants seems intent on ensuring that Louisiana holds its low rank in the nation in terms of education, environment and health care services for the poor. His goal is to privatize state government.
I probably should cut Jindal some slack, given that he appears to be delusional. The former Rhodes Scholar still believes GOP Presidential candidate Mitt Romney will consider him as a running mate—a dream that is shared by a tiny constituency that would rather take a bullet to groin than pass a tax.
If Mitt Romney has a political mental breakdown and selects Jindal as a running mate, it will certainly cause a lot of celebration in Louisiana. Not that my fellow Louisianans need much to happen in order to celebrate. But Governor Smarty Pants has taken the fun out of partying for teachers, college professors and a large number of state employees facing layoffs and a reduction in promised pensions. Consequently, Jindal can set off a wave of jubilation if he departs the state to indulge his addictions of globe-hopping and stalking television cameras as a candidate for higher office.
But that still leaves us with morally unfit obstructionist, David Vitter? We are stuck with him for nearly five more years. And that ain’t good for the state. Vitter does as much damage in Washington by doing nothing as Jindal does in Louisiana by doing something.
In the wake of do-nothingness, the Senator must have a lot of free time on his hands or he wouldn’t be calling me so often. I sure wish he would stop. Instead, he needs to check the Yellow Pages under the listing, “Escorts.”
My memoir, Odyssey of a Derelict Gunslinger: A Saga of Exposing TV Preachers, Corrupt Politicians, Right-Wing Lunatics…and Me is available at amazon.com, soft-cover or Kindle and at independent bookstores like the Cottonwood in Baton Rouge. It offers $19.99 worth of laughs and much more. The book is an account of my illustrious (I choose the adjectives) investigative reporting career.