Turns out John Edwards is a phony, a sleaze, a stereotypical politician. From a clinical view it is sadly interesting that this man: the self-professed son of a mill worker, the first in his family to go to college, the postcard of the American Dream, could dash it all on the rocks of power and greed.
At some level he must have really hated himself or feared what he was becoming. Maybe for about a millisecond. But then the money and the authority and the power just kept rolling, rolling, rolling.
Maybe he's just got Antisocial Personality Disorder. You know, the whole "lack of conscience" problem.
In the final analysis, though, it doesn't much matter. His message, which was important and relevant, that our nation is divided into two Americas, and that those that have much need to help those that have little, is now lost in the sleazy tabloid headlines with a not-very-pretty 1980's cocaine chicky and her love-child.
I'm not re-writing history when I say that each time I waited in line at MSU (three times) and again at Fassnight Park to listen to Edwards speak, and each time I wrote checks to his campaign, a teeny tiny part of me wondered if this wasn't just a bit too good to be true. But I so wanted him to be for real that I pushed it back and cheered him on. I even dragged the Young One to his speeches and let him shake Edward's hand.
Now when I watch this play out on the news, I just feel sick. I wish I could get those pitiful little donations back. I wish I could scrub the Young One's hand, and apologize for taking away his afternoons of playtime to spend listening to someone who was creating a web of deceit and betrayal.
John Edwards did have some important things to say. Those words and messages are lost now, and that's the worst tragedy of this whole mess.