an open letter to mrs spitzer

i don't like politics. i grew up around the edges of it and my sense is that it's a game tinged with cigar smoke and whispered deals done in little back rooms, regarding subjects not discussed in front of children. it smacks of that part of playing well with others that i don't understand, and so generally, i avoid politics and those who play them.

i also don't think prostitution is a crime. i think prostitution should be legalized, i think prostitutes should enjoy the same protections and rights as any other kind of worker. i also think men who seek out prostitutes are obviously - with few exceptions, perhaps - losers who can't get laid. in mister spitzer's case, he has a beautiful wife. maybe she's mean, maybe she's cold, maybe she's bitchy. maybe she doesn't like to play the kinds of games he likes to play, so he has to pay to play them. but whatever she is or isn't, she certainly didn't deserve the public humiliation visited on her by that hypocritical creep of a husband.

i watched her over and over, standing so silently by his side, and i thought about what i would say to her - if i could....if i were her mother, her sister, her friend. i put myself in her shoes, and this is what i'd say:

dear mrs spitzer -

just leave. he doesn't deserve you. it's not that he slept with anyone else - it's that he broke all his own rules. please don't stand for it. tell the world and your daughters that you aren't putting up with a man who is anything less than what he pretends to be in public. don't take him back, don't listen to his whining. he's a creep, and you deserve better. so do your daughters, so do mine. so do all of us.

sincerely, a concerned Syster.

and furthermore, the war must end. blessed be.