If you caught former New York Governor Elliot Spitzer on the Rachel Maddow show last night you might have seen as I did, a sad, washed up crusader. He reminded me of the surly, no-good drunken sheriff played by Robert Mitchum in Rio Bravo (or was it El Dorado?) you can just tell by the faded glimmer in his eye that he was good once at what he did, and maybe even could be again.
Spitzer certainly was in fine shape. Sidestepping questions about his resignation and whether prostitution should be legalized, his agenda was Wall Street. His no-holds barred approach to dealing with white collar crime reminded us that when he was sheriff, he was one of the first public figures to really stick it to these fat cats. Hit ‘em where they hurt, before it was ever even popular for a congressional sub-committee to pillory some uncomfortable—yet unscathed--Wall Street executive.
He also said he wants back in the game. While he was a little vague on what that means, he did intimate coming to the dark side and becoming a journalist.
If that’s the case—he’s got my vote. Spitzer may have be held back by having the smell of call girls attached to his name, but in a strange sense that also gives him some celebrity-name recognition.
If he can attach that name to some killer investigative work and/or stepping up his populist essays and columns then he might be able keep up the good fight and perhaps win himself a little redemption.
Of course its win-win because if he becomes a journalist and still can’t resist his demons—well it’s no big deal. Nobody cares about the personal life of a hack because they know we’re all going to hell anyways.