Morning Coffee (116)

An Ode to a Moll

Dear Kristen-Ashley-Alexandra-Dupre-Youmans:

The world has waited with baited breath, to see the woman whose skills hath wrest

The Governor from the Empire State. With modern media, we barely had to wait.

Here you are for all to see, GASP! You’re but a mere person just like me.

I had expected an incarnation of Aphrodite, in a negligee or perhaps a nighty.

But regrettably, that is not so, and on your myspace page trolls you a ho.

You’re so youthful and hopeful and full of angst, and wishing of a career in music, even if it tanks.

A thousand an hour you’re surely not worth, but let’s just say, I suppose I’ve seen worse.

Yours truly,

The Morning Coffee

Behold, the first ever poem to be written by the staff of the MC. So delicious. The subject matter is peculiar. As soon as we began to get over our faux shock of the Spitzer fiasco, we all wanted to know who this ‘Kristen’ girl was. Come now, be honest with yourself. We all wanted to know who the woman was who “brought low the Governor of New York.” I must say that I think she’s given far too much credit in this affair (pun), for the blame for bringing low Mr. Spitzer rests solely on Mr. Spitzer. Nevertheless, we knew, of course, that it would be a matter of days, if not hours, before young Kristen’s picture was all over the internet. And it was. She’s now very well known. She’s a Myspace page which showcases her (terrible) song. If you can’t access that page from your present location (many places of employment block Myspace), you can see the young lady HERE. I must say, I expected more from a “VIP Escort Service” for the young lady, for all her womanly charms and looks, is most certainly not worth $1,000 an hour. No way. Not even $200 an hour. But hey, I’m not rich. Writing the MC doesn’t pay enough for me to be able to afford high-priced hookers, er, escorts.

You can read all about her HERE (if you so choose). Her’s was a life of difficulty, blah, blah, blah, who cares, blah, blah. Bob Loblaw can write about it in his Law Blog if he wants. The bottom line is that this girl was not a victim, nor was she an evil predator. She is simply a girl trying to make money. So what? I don’t care about her whinny BS any more than I care about her music. Nevertheless, she’ll probably get a book deal out of it, or perhaps a recording contract (perhaps I need to get into the escort business). One would think, however, that her vocal style would be better with influences like the regal Etta James.

Anyway, Spitzer resigned and what not, and he’s now going to focus on his family. Utterly laughable. He has to focus on his family because no one else will touch the guy, not even the call girls. They know if they do that, they’re pictures will be all over the New York Times, and it’s hard being a high-priced call girl with that sort of publicity. What angers me most about Mr. Spitzer is not so much the fornication with prostitutes, but the hypocrisy of his life and the cheating on his wife (still in poet mode). If he wasn’t a vehement attack dog against this very sort of behavior while the Attorney General…It’s funny when the morality police are less moral than the average citizen.

What is inconceivable to me, however, is this talk that he shouldn’t be brought up on charges because he was forced to resign, as if that’s punishment enough. Serving the people is a privilege, and self-revocation of such a privilege is not a punishment for breaking the law. You do not get to avoid prosecution simply by giving up your office. Not only did Spitzer tout such a high moral code, but as an elected official, he should be held to the same standards, legally, as you or I…at a minimum. Sure, it’s unfortunate that such a “promising” politician has had to leave office, but it’s a monster of his own creation. And now he should face whatever charges we might face. There’s the possibility of tax fraud, of course. How about the Mann Act, which forbids the transportation of a person across state lines for the purpose of prostitution? You or I’d be charged with it. And you know what? Many of us would have to give up our jobs too.

I just realized that I’ve spent half a page discussing Eliot Spitzer’s fall from grace. Surely there are more important things to discuss. I hope my lovely poem gets me some slack.

Wacky Snow:

Since I’ve spent the majority of my time discussing the absurd, I might as well tell you that Montreal is the proud owner of one 80 foot high pile of snow that, unless broken up, will still largely be there next winter. That’s a lot of snow.

Uh…Wow:

In keeping with the absurd (it’s a theme today), we move onto Pam Babcock, a 35 year old woman who decided one day that she was going to sit on a toilet seat and not get up. For two years. Her skin actually grew around the seat. Pam suffered from a phobia, as a result of being struck in her childhood, and the bathroom was her safe area. She wouldn’t leave, and her boyfriend took care of her, all the while trying to convince her to get up and leave. She’d say, “Maybe tomorrow.” I’ve got to hand it to Pam, though. I am compelled to get up after about five minutes, tops. Hers is an example of endurance even monks would be envious of.

Word of the Day: Rodomontade (rod-uh-muhn-TADE) (noun): Vain boasting; empty bluster; pretentious, bragging speech; rant.

On This Day in History: Uranus was discovered by William Herschel (1781). Alexander II of Russia is killed by a hand-tossed bomb (1881). A Tennessee law prohibiting the teaching of evolution is enacted (1925).

“My advice to you is get married: if you find a good wife you’ll be happy; if not, you’ll become a philosopher.” – Socrates.