Holy cow! I've been following the downfall of former Congressman Jesse Jackson Jr. If I were to leave a theatre in which the movie was about Jackson and all the other lives that have been brought down due to their association with Rod Blagojevich I would say, "What a great story. What a great movie. Who is the brilliant writer?" Jackson illegally used campaign funds to treat himself to crap like Michael Jackson souvenirs. $750,000 down the drain. The investigation began once his name was in the mix of people who went knocking on Blago's door when Obama's Senate seat was open. There's nothing wrong with suggesting you're the right replacement for the job. You just can't show up at the door with a bucket of money. It doesn't look right. Elvis memorabilia might have worked.
I'm grateful that the only people who don't want to be associated with me are my children. But can you imagine if the very sound of your name being linked with someone else causes an F.B.I. investigation, a look into your tax returns, a snub, a cold shoulder, a chuckle, a roll of the eyes, a deep sigh?
What's in a name? Honor. Jackson's father, the Rev. Jesse, worked his whole life to serve his community. You can argue that he did it for show, etc. You can argue that he preaches family values, yet has a second family on the side. I personally believe that after Martin Luther King died, Jackson saw an opportunity and ran with it. Now all the good work and accomplishments mean nothing. He'll be associated with his son's name. The guy who bought Michael Jackson's fedora.
I wonder what Blago is thinking as he reads the story. "Serves him right." "Ha ha. I'm not the only one who was nailed." I wonder what his children think. "Mom. Can we use your maiden name?"
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