The Girl That I Marry, by Martha Thomases – Brilliant Disguise

February 6, 2010 Martha Thomases 0 Comments

For reasons beyond my comprehension, a publisher has decided that there is a market for a book about John Edwards’ sex life.  The Politician is advertised as if it is supposed to be a high-minded book about the 2008 presidential campaign run by John Edwards.  Maybe that’s what it is.  Unfortunately, the author, Andrew Young (a former campaign staffer, not the real one, in his appearances on television, appears to me to only be promoting the sleaziest aspects of his story.

The bare bones are old news:  John Edwards had an affair with a woman working as a freelance videographer for his campaign.  He lied about the relationship, even after the woman gave birth to a daughter he fathered.  At the time, his wife, Elizabeth, had only recently discovered the return of her cancer, originally diagnosed after Edwards’ 2004 campaign for vice-president.

That’s a horrible story, one I find especially distasteful because I liked John Edwards’ campaign.  He was the only candidate speaking about poverty in this country, and why it is so important to fight against it.  I’m disappointed that he’s not a better person.  And I’m disgusted at the way some in the news media blame his wife.

Believe it or not, Elizabeth Edwards, a person with cancer, has the nerve to be something less than a saint!  She got angry at staffers and lost her temper.  She yelled at her husband when she found out he was cheating.  Instead of smiling sweetly and appreciating every moment of the life she had left, Mrs. Edwards instead did things that made other people uncomfortable. The gall of that woman!

Believe it or not, people with cancer (and other terminal diseases, including being alive) do not stop being human just because they might die soon.  People with cancer can be just as petty, just as annoying, just as human as the rest of us.  Maybe even more so.  Not only do they have a disease, which can be exhausting, but they frequently have to take medicine that makes them feel crummy, and they have to go to the hospital and be around other sick people, which is scary.

If I have a cold, I’m no fun.  I hope I never have to see what I’m like with cancer but, if I do, I’m willing to bet I’m going to kvetch.  A lot.

It seems to me that I never read a news article that attempts to justify a female politician’s infidelity by describing her husband’s temper.  Men are supposed to get angry.  That’s manly.  Angry women are shrews, and they deserve everything they get.

Except laid.

While we’re at it,  I’m also grossed out that I have to think about John Edwards having sex when I watch a news program.  I also don’t want to think about David Vitter and his diapers, or Eliot Spitzer and his socks.  I don’t want to think about any other person having sex, except for me.

Not to harp on this “We’re human” thing too much, but I expect that our elected officials have sex.  That’s what people do.  I’m not surprised that they get married and divorced, cheat or stay faithful, or whatever combination of behaviors works for each individual couple.  I just don’t want to hear about it.

If anything, I’d like to hear about the other, more mundane things they do that make them human.  Tell me about their kids.  Do they go to public school?  Does the official go to parent-teacher conferences?  Do they go shoe-shopping?  Do they take public transportation?  Do they have their own EZ-Pass, or are they always driven by a driver?  If they fly, do they fly in coach, first class or on a private jet?  Who does the cooking, and who does the grocery shopping?

These things tell me a lot more about how much I can trust a politician than what he’s doing with his dick.

Media Goddess Martha Thomases is extremely sorry she put the image of Eliot Spitzer, naked but for socks, rutting away with a hooker, in your brain.  However, the New York newspapers make her think about it, and she doesn’t like to suffer alone.