Just their Wives, One Pantyhose Leg at a Time

Few walk alone, especially those men at the top who live in that big white house.

Did we really think Jackie didn't know that Jack was a rabid cheater?
That Lady Bird didn't need to plant all those pretty roses as all those handsome soldiers fell dead in Vietnam.
Or that Pat didn't endure being an abused spouse, physically and emotionally?
Was it so peculiar that Betty turned to drink for the company that sticks around -- the bottle?
Or that even Nancy found peace, comfort, and built their schedules around the answers of clarovoyants?
How did Hillary keep smiling in the face of repeated infidelity and public humiliation?
And how could Laura expect to be exempt from addressing publicly the day she recklessly took a young life in Midland, TX and ended another family's best dreams forever?

Those fellows; we confuse them with something more than they are, more than they can be. They are mere mortals.

And the women who stick by them? Likewise. Let's not confuse their riches, their children, their poise, or their make-up with what's at stake in the U.S.

We know that future First Ladies can busy themselves planting more rose bushes, but there are plenty of gardens and mazes out there already with names memorializing many fine young people whose laughter won't infect this world again.

Enshrine those who can't get health insurance while they short-change themselves medication or a home health visit to change an essential wound dressing.
Enshrine someone who's carrying out this nation's duty abroad.
Enshrine someone who dies needlessly from influenza this year when it could have been avoided had our leaders been held accountable. In spite of an election, they won't be.

Just don't enshrine politicos and their families because they happen to be on all the television screens and carry the titles that should go with honor in that white house now behind the barricades on Pennsylvania Avenue.

Don't confuse them with the real heroes and heroines of this nation, that's all.