SPECTER

I was born in Philadelphia, and I was raised in Philadelphia, and sometimes I think I’ve just been here too long. You can get cynical.

I remember Paul D’Ortona, for example. He was president of City Council in the 1960’s, and a very popular politician in town. On one occasion, he had to introduce a visiting African statesman to Council, with all appropriate honors. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” he said, “I give you Robert Ngulu, former President of ‘Nigger-ia.’” He didn’t mean to insult the gentleman, of course. It’s just that he wasn’t quite sure how to pronounce the country the gentleman hailed from.

I also remember the bombing of Osage Avenue. Mayor Goode did it. Bombed a city block. We never did figure out exactly why.

I even remember when Ed Rendell became a respectable person. I remember the day. It was February of the year when he was first elected Governor, nine months later. I distinctly remember opening the paper that day and reading about Ed’s “vision” and his “ideas” and how he planned to lead Pennsylvania into a new era. “Ed?” I said. “ED???” The guy who had turned buying votes with taxpayer money into an art form? The guy who had pinched the bottoms of every barmaid in the three zipcodes that are downtown Philadelphia? Ed? I mean, it’s not like these were stories I had heard from his political opponents. I had heard these stories from the barmaids themselves. But now, suddenly, he was not Fast Eddie anymore. He was Ed Rendell, Elder Statesman. Or something.

But that’s Philadelphia. It’s cute, in a way.

But of all the men who have ruled this town, Arlen Specter was the worst. Forget Bork. Forget Anita Hill and magic bullets and Scottish jurisprudence. Forget his (continuing) war against the New England Patriots. Let’s go back to the 1960’s, when District Attorney Arlen Specter prosecuted the owner of a bookstore for selling Tropic of Cancer. Let’s recall those halcyon days when Captain Frank Rizzo was busting gay bars in West Philly and leading the homosexuals off in handcuffs, and D.A. Arlen Specter always happened to be there in order to get his picture in the paper the next morning. Later, "Snarlin' Arlen" was voted “the meanest man in the Senate,” year after year, by Senate staffers.

Thank God this schmuck has finally been defeated.

Copyright2010MichaelKubacki