I was all ready to give you a post about the fun weekend I spent in San Francisco with three women friends — we stayed at the Kabuki Hotel, had dinner on Fillmore Street and in the Mission, drank martinis, saw that Miss Pettigrew movie at the new Sundance Theater next to the hotel, shopped at high end stores and one of us (okay, me) went to the Presidio Branch of the San Francisco Public Library, but I realize that it is far more urgent to tell you how one family (mine, natch), dealt with Eliot Spitzer’s little escapade.
I figured they’d hear about it, so I just told them. What did I tell them, you ask, reasonably enough? That it’s illegal to pay for sex. And he did pay for it. And he shouldn’t have. Plus, he told a lot of people not to do bad things, so that made him look especially stupid, the way I look when I tell them not to eat junk food and then am caught sneaking their Halloween candy. (But I was just, you know, saving you from it….)
William looked puzzled by the whole thing, frankly. But he did seem interested in making sure he understood the ins and outs of this rule. His question: “What happens if somebody says they’ll have sex with you and you’re just so happy about it that you want to GIVE them a whole lot of money? Is that okay?”
Sigh. It’s important not to get stuff and love mixed up together is what I said, a little preachily, in an Eliot Spitzer kind of way.
And then it was Charlie’s turn to get all U.S. Attorney on me and bust me for my hypocrisy — “But mom, what about that time dad gave you a bread knife for Christmas and you were so mad at him because you thought it was pearls and it wasn’t?”
The conversation moved on to whether we’d sacrifice Archie, our alpha rescue poodle, for a human life. (In other words, if you could save someone’s life by sacrificing Archie’s, would you?) It was not entirely clear that they would give their dog’s life for a human life, which I guess today sort of makes a little sense, given how unevolved humans seem. I kept quiet, given my issue with the bread knife that should have been pearls and my consumption of Halloween candy. (Can you say “glass house” and “he who is without sin”?) I let them hash it out, because they are far better at what’s really moral than I am, or most adults are, come to think of it, including Eliot Spitzer and those who are up in arms about him today. They decided that they’d never have to give up Archie, but they would if they did, and then the conversation turned to why it’s not okay to call someone “gay” as an insult. I’ll leave that for another day. Eliot Spitzer has totally worn me out.