In the entry titled
"Not Again," published August 8, 2008, several errors were included. The executive editorial board of Comparative Childhood regrets the error. They include the following:
- John Edwards is from North Carolina, not South. Apologies to the good people of South Carolina, including Stephen Colbert.
- The timing of Mr. Edwards' affair occurred while Elizabeth Edwards was in remission from breast cancer. The timing of the affair also did not coincide with John Edwards' campaign for the democratic nomination from U.S. President.
The executive editorial board of Comparative Childhood would also like to come clean and make a confession of her own -- her ex-husband was a compulsive serial cheater who, when confronted with his all-night absences and more-than-apparent hangover, confessed to being involved with 10 different people while married to her. Her ex-husband's father, her ex-father-in-law and a stalwart minister of the gospel, confessed to the same shortcoming after being confronted and threatened by the most recent mistress that she would expose him. Actually, it was the mother of the mistress, the ex-father-in-law's personal secretary, who confronted and threatened exposure. Both the ex-husband and the ex-father-in-law were good ole boys who spoke with an earnest drawl and impeccable oration skill, perfected through years of training. So the editor may well be having a knee-jerk reaction to John Edwards and making heavy use of the classical Freudian defense mechanism of projection.
But, since the post of two days ago, the exclusive interview with John Edwards has aired. In it, he stated (earnestly), "I am imperfect. And anybody watching this broadcast or who hears about this who wants to beat me up about this, they should have at it. The truth is, you can't possibly beat me up more than I've already beaten myself up." So I'm having at it. Maybe by doing so, I can work through some of my own shit. And maybe John will read this too, and it'll be like one big pow wow of restoration, or a lovefest of redemption. Or something. Here goes.
At the start of the interview, Edwards is asked point blank, "Did you have an affair?" After some nicities and thanks, Edwards replies: "In 2006, two years ago, I made a very serious mistake. A mistake that I am responsible for and no one else. In 2006, told Elizabeth told about the mistake. Asked her for her forgiveness, asked God for his forgiveness, and we have kept this within our family since that time." Gotta love an attorney. He actually never said 'yes,' nor did he say anything that entailed that he had had an affair. But Bob Woodruff (the interviewer) didn't let that sneak by. His next question was, "Is the affair over?" to which Edwards replies, "oh , yes," so he admits having an affair by not arguing the entailment. But, why word it this way? Why not just say, "I told Elizabeth I had had an affair." Calling it a mistake makes it sound like you put a red shirt in with the whites, or that you forgot you were supposed to be home at 6 to let the dog out and that's why it ate the trash and peed on the kitchen floor.
Woodruff mentioned Elizabeth Edwards' struggle with cancer, and her undying support for her husband's professional goals and then asked the open-ended question, "How could you have done this?" John Edwards explained that he had lost touch with the grounded nature of his early years due to many successive years of superb professional achievement, "...all of which fed a self-focus, an egotism, a narcissism that leads you to believe that you can do whatever you want, you're invincible, and there will be no consequences. And nothing could be further from the truth." Woodruff then asked him, "So your assumption is that you would never be caught?" Edwards' replies, "first of all, it was short. It was a huge mistake in judgment. But, yeah, I didn't think anyone would ever know about it. I didn't. But the important thing is, how could I ever get to that place, to that place, and allow myself to let that happen? And I believe the reason it happened..."
I'm trying to work myself through what I don't like about this answer. To use one of Edwards' favorite phrases:
First of all, why does it matter that the affair was short? Moving on, there's a strangeness with the way he says that this state of megalomania caused him to think that he could do whatever he wanted, that he was invincible, and that there would be no consequences. And then there's a subtle wording, which only an attorney could craft and a linguist could analyze, in which he never actually says he did anything. He wonders how he could let "that" happen. It's as if he's talking about a big storm coming and he didn't put the outdoor grill and it got ruined in the rain. If we take to the analogy, his actions were more like seeing the storm coming and taking the action of pushing the grill out into the rain. Again, can you just come out and say it? What is the point of being cagey? This isn't a courtroom, and you didn't commit a crime. Just say it without making it sound like something just "happened."
And then there's something I gotta pick on because I think Edwards is being terrifically judgmental of many women out there without even knowing it. When he's asked whether he loved the woman he had the affair with, he replies "I'm in love with one woman, I have been in love with one woman for 31 years. She is the finest human being I have ever known. And the fact that she is with me after this having happened is a testament to the kind of woman and kind of human being she is. There is a deep and abiding love that exists between Elizabeth and myself." I don't like that he characterizes his wife as being a good person somehow because she forgave him, chose to stay with him in their marriage, and worked through the problems of their relationship with him. Would she have been wrong to tell him to hit the road? If so, why would that have been the wrong thing to do?
This last point really irks me. I think there is this underlying belief that a woman who stays with her husband when he cheats and works it out is somehow more noble than one who says 'hit the road, Jack.' From my own life, I can say that my ex-mother-in-law (who forgave and worked it out with her husband) communicated oh-so-subtly to me that I was doing the wrong thing by telling my ex-husband to pack it up and move it on out. Why is this? Is it misogyny? I mean, really, why should a woman be any more revered for forgiving her husband than for telling him to get out?
OK, now that I've gotten my venom out, I'll move to my praises of John Edwards, conveniently omitted from my last post. As a frame of reference for readers, I believe that public figures should not be hounded like dogs and their personal lives exposed, politicians or otherwise. It is not in the interest of the general public for individuals to lose their right to privacy. Worse, it leads to things like politicians lying. Why did Edwards deny for months that he had this affair? Because he correctly surmised that it would destroy his political career, even though the information would have nothing to do with his qualifications as a leader. This around-the-clock surveillance of public figures and candidates for public office is completely unnecessary and doesn't benefit anyone but the people making money off of it. In entertainment, it's a nuisance; in politics, it negatively interferes (in a massive way) with governance. Done, off my soap box, I'll leave it to someone who has a politically-oriented blog to argue this point further.
More. Good for you, John Edwards, in telling the media that the details of the affair were open to your family and those that needed to know, and not to the general public. And kudos to you for asking your wife not to accompany you to the interview, and not using her as a shield against attacks or a prop to demonstrate your sincerity. Very good, indeed.
OK, I think that clears up things for me, at least.
