Cheat-Seeking Missles

Monday, July 16, 2007

The Pained Political Wife

In all the images on this AP photographer's photo chip, there was probably only one with Sen. David Vitter's wife Wendy in the foreground, eyes closed, looking pained. In the others, she was probably acting the part of the political wife, gazing forgivingly at her hubby ... but of course, this was the photo that ran with today's Vitter story:
METAIRIE, La. (AP) - Sen. David Vitter on Monday denied having relationships with New Orleans prostitutes, a week after admitting links to a Washington escort service that federal prosecutors allege was a prostitution ring.

Vitter, emerging from a week of seclusion by appearing at a news conference in suburban Metairie with his wife, Wendy, at his side, denied the prostitution allegations and offered no indication that he would resign. He said he planned to fly Monday night to Washington to resume work in the Senate. (Breitbart)

The photo seems to give the lie to at least the second half of this quote; the first half is between Vitter and God:

"I believe I received forgiveness from God. I know I did from Wendy."

How often the stoic wife has stood beside her dallying, criminal, defamed, indicted, convicted, embarrassed politician husband, playing the symbol to the world that he's not such a bad guy after all.

I've often wondered what is going through the wife's mind at such times, and I imagine this photo is closer to the truth than most: They would rather be anywhere else, married to someone else. Or, if they did have to be where they were, they'd rather be wringing the jerk's neck than pretending to support him.

I would love, just once, for the wife to slap the guy upside the head and shout, "In your dreams I've forgiven you, you no-good #$@%!!" But instead, we'll continue to see the Wendy Vitters of politics as long as there are the David Vitters of politics.

Not that my sympathy for them knows no bounds. They probably stand there as they do because they are, for the most part, an ambitious, plotting bunch who have willingly aided and abetted their husbands' dirty-nailed clawing to the top of politics. The mask is well-tailored by the time these moments occur, it's just one more act in the long-running play.

But sometimes there must be just a woman there, deeply hurt by and disgusted with her husband, wanting to be anywhere but where she is, and more than a little dishonored by the fact that she is there, doing it again.

What sane person would choose this life?

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