I watched a movie, State of Play. A part of the plot involves a politician, who had an affair, getting his wife to make a statement to the press, to save his political career. That notion intrigued me - hence this story.
This story is not real - it does not speak of any political party. There is no implication that one party or another would do such a thing. It is a total fantasy. The premise is a woman Senator is a leading candidate for the current Presidential race - another fantasy. The story presents a cynical view of politicians, if that is not for you, there are many other stories you might prefer.
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I was sound asleep. I heard a man's voice say, "Paul!"
I sat straight up. He scared the shit out of me. I reached for my bedside table, where my Glock lived.
"Paul, it's me, Dan. Sorry to wake you this way but we have an emergency."
Dan, Dan, who the fuck is Dan? Oh, Dan Jenkins? He runs Doris' office here in town.
"Dan, why in the good fuck are you in my bedroom? I have a phone. I have a doorbell."
"I could not use the phone and didn't want to be seen at the door. We have a really big problem and need to talk."
"Dan, I have only one problem, some asshole has chosen to wake me" I looked at my alarm clock, "at 2:45 A fucking M."
"I am sorry for that, but this could cost the Senator her chance to be President. It is bigger than you or me."
"Dan, get out of my bedroom. Get out of my house. If you do not I am going to do one of the following: shoot you and call 9-1-1-, call 9-1-1 and tell them you are here to cover up some political faux pas, or just physically kick your ass and let you explain why you are discovered beaten and bloody on my front lawn."
He backed up a couple of steps, a tactical error, allowing me to get my gun. I pointed it at him. "Whoa, whoa, just a minute, don't shoot!"
"Dan, one last chance. Turn and run for the door. I probably will not shoot. You have 60 seconds to get out. If you've not done that I will kill you and tell 9-1-1 I shot an uninvited intruder. Since you will be dead, you'll have no argument."
"But this is..."
"55, 54, 53..."
For some reason, Dan decided my wife's potential political career was worth less than his life and he beat a hasty retreat. I wondered how long it would take for him to call her team and her team to call me.
I was regaining consciousness, you know the difference between being awake but drooling, and being able to string two thoughts together. Hell'uva time to start the day, but I got up hit the toilet and then the shower - just a quick rinse. I was drying off and my phone rang.
"Yeah." I said without emotion.
"Paul, this is John Schmidt, the Senator's ..."
"John, I am interrupting because I don't care to talk to you, to your assistant, to the under secretary of the interior, the President, or anyone else. If whatever Senator you are speaking of has an issue, she should call me, directly."
"I am afraid that is not possible."
"Oh my, let me make sure, has she been injured in any way?"
"Well, not physically, but you see..."
"John, really great talking with you, if my wife has something she wants to ask me, have her call. If you want to talk to me, call my office and arrange an appointment. I think I have some time in six or seven weeks." I disconnected.
In less time than it would have taken me to put a text together, my phone pinged, and I looked at a text from John. "Please, do not allow the press to talk with you before you have talked with the Senator."
It took me a bit longer to respond - "John, you are dreaming, if my wife wants to talk to me before the press gets to me the clock is ticking. I am not going to hide like some thief. Meanwhile, tick tick, tick."
Being the husband of a successful politician has been an interesting role in life. I must say, my wife is an outstanding politician - she can speak to any crowd and get them on her side. Our state is truly "Purple" going one way in one election and the other in the next. Doris Russell, my wife, appealed to a majority of voters, not only in our state, but nationally, as well. There was serious talk of her becoming the presidential candidate in this election, or the next.
I am the owner of a successful investment firm. Right now, we are having great success bringing in money from a variety of sources to fund startups. It is a high-risk investment, but I have a knack for being able to predict success - at least often enough that buying into our portfolio has yielded an extraordinary return. The downside, if there is one, is I am tied to our offices and the frequent travel to evaluate companies seeking our financial support.
I'll say this. It is beyond difficult to maintain anything like a normal marriage when both parties are extremely successful. The possibility of children was the first casualty. In my opinion, they need parents who participate in their young lives. I knew I would be deficient in that regard and Doris told me, if we were to have kids, we'd both need to step up. We easily agreed that children were not our priority.
The real difficulty is in maintaining any kind of partnership. You'd think when she was elected Senator and moved to Washington D.C. that would have made a big difference - but it really didn't. She could come home often, to be with constituents, I could travel there for long weekends, whenever I chose. We didn't see each other during the week, anyway.
We are both 38, we married at 25, and by that time we were both on our way toward success. Early on, no matter how hard we worked, our time together was critical to that success. Being able to talk to someone who doesn't judge you and is looking only to provide insight is important. Equally important is offering advice to someone who may be leaning the wrong way, in such a manner that it is seen as trying to help. And, of course, there is the pure animal attraction - celebrating victories, or forgetting defeats - aggressively between the sheets is another way to grow together.
But you hit your thirties and the job demands grow and all of a sudden your body requires sleep, at least on occasion. Something has to give and slowly but surely, it becomes the partnership. Doris and I swore to each other we would not let that happen. (Like we could stop the rain from falling.)
What really pissed me off was the nature of politics. If ~60% of people think something is bad - a good politician needs to learn to either agree, or be able to mumble unintelligibly, instead. As time went on, she'd be trying to talk herself into why this was better than that - when I knew she thought just the opposite - and my advice made her life more difficult. While she agreed with me, she had to push back because it was the right political move.
We fundamentally disagreed. I thought her best political future came from being herself. She was being taught that her chances were better if she got herself on the correct side of the less critical issues. Her manager, or whatever he called himself, started getting her ear, more and more.
We'd had our first big fight about two months ago, she accused me of trying to sabotage her because I would not agree with one of John's bullshit views. I told her if she thought John was more in her corner than I was we were in trouble.
Did you ever say something and really regret it? She took what I said in, and believed it. I wanted her to see we were partners and John was leading her astray. What she heard was we were in trouble.
So, this morning when I was beset by some flunky on her staff, I knew it was a tentacle from the we are in trouble talk. I wasn't going to hear it from them; I was going to hear it from her.
My phone rang; Doris' ringtone. "Good morning." I said, not meaning it.
"Why are you being so difficult?"
"Doris, my instinct is to hang up. Why would you say I am being difficult."
"John told me..."
"Aha, now you are going to tell me why John thinks I am being difficult. Fuck John."
