Big Daddy

Big Daddy

Dear Big Daddy,
What do you think of Roy Ashburn’s mea culpa?
–Todd in Torrance

Well done, very well done, indeed. I’ve always enjoyed reading about sex and politics, of course, and when you combine the two, it’s even better.

Part of the culture of the Capitol is that everybody is interested in everybody else’s sex life, gay or straight. I know I am. And it’s a good thing, too, because if you take that out of the Capitol, what do you have? Policy and ideology and predictability and boredom. I can get that at home.

But include the sexual dimension, and people perk up. At least I do, especially if there’s a whiff of scandal.  Who’s sleeping with who? Who’s dating who? Who broke up with who and why? Who likes spanking and light bondage? How did they get together in the first place? (That’s my favorite, frankly).

One of the many problems with term limits is that the clout of individual lawmakers is sadly reduced.  That means good looking people on the prowl have fewer targets in the Capitol. In fact, the smart ones stay out of the Capitol entirely and go after the lobbyists, where the real power is.

Too, the lobbyists as a group are better looking – much – than lawmakers. Even the Capitol staffers are better looking than their bosses. So if you’re ambitious and want to sleep your way to the top, start with the lobbyists. You’ll score better theater tickets and eat more often at Esquire Grill and Biba’s, instead of Capitol Park Café and Little Unique Dragon.

Whatever you do, stay away from journalists: They’re terrible in bed, blab everything, will forget your name by morning and leave you dangling as soon as they pump you for a hot tip. Maybe I should rephrase that.

But even though the Capitol may not be the power center it once was, it’s still a hatchery for steamy affairs (the best affairs are always “steamy”). That’s because the Capitol has hundreds of smart, ambitious, attractive people who, sooner or later, will find each other. This is all a lot more interesting than the state budget or water bonds or the governor’s race, because this is visceral and basic and leads to tension and uncertainty and joy and excitement – all the things, in fact, that make life worth living.

Conventional wisdom holds that money is power, but actually power is sex. Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac, Henry Kissinger once said, and it must be true, because how else could a goofy-looking dip like Kissinger score all those great-looking women? It certainly wasn’t because of his charm, charisma and intelligence.

But if power really is an aphrodisiac, then the Capitol needs a shot of Viagra. The Capitol’s power is slipping away, sapped by an uninformed and unforgiving public, and who knows what will arise in its place?

Maybe a super-powerful treasurer. I’ll be back.

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