If you live in New York, you can’t really ignore what’s going on with Elliot Spitzer. Now that the initial shock and disappointment have settled in, I can’t help but feel incredibly sad. For while he made many enemies with his zeal for getting the bad guys, he was a hero to a lot of us. It’s plain demoralizing to watch yet another one fall by the wayside. (Plus with such a colossal blunder, you have to think that the psychiatrists needed to be brought in more than the federal agents.) Then, of course, there’s the enormous sympathy for his wife and children for all those reasons we shudder to think about having to stand in their place.
This is a call to reason. I don’t want to be part of the ongoing gossip and innuendo. I don’t want his kids to be teased. I don’t want reporters to stick their microphones in the family’s faces. I don’t want there to be bad late night jokes and endless ridiculous cable commentary.
Just give me the straight facts and the very hard news please.
Harriett
