Rush to Judgment

Dominque Strauss-Kahn was released from house arrest and had his bail lifted after serious questions were raised about the credibility of the Sofitel maid who accused him of rape. The questions were raised by the prosecution team, not the defense.

The woman in question retracted her earlier statement that she hid in the hall until DSK left the premises and then reported the event to her supervisor. Now she says she cleaned two rooms, including his, before reporting the attack.

The prosecution team says they uncovered her involvement with criminals. She lied about the circumstances that led her to seek asylum in the United States. She is a con-artist, with several bank accounts with over $100k in them, and she has been paying big phone bills on five cell phones, though she says she only owns one.

This is quite a different story than the one we heard about after the alleged attack.  The woman then was painted as a devout Muslim with a stellar work record who had escaped her country after being gang-raped by soldiers. She had been so traumatized by DSK's attack that it was thought she could only be telling the truth.

We were told he fled the hotel in such a hurry that he left his cell phone behind. How could such an important man do that unless he was rattled?   

I certainly rushed to judgment. At first I thought it might have been a political set-up, but all the news reports seemed to indicate guilt. When the goddaughter of his second wife revealed that he had attacked her in much the same way,  and former call girls said he had been "very aggressive," I was convinced of it (see The Defense, May 27 and Bad Boys, June 11). 

Now I am inclined to think they had consensual sex, as he said, and she tried to extort him. "Can't liars also be raped?" someone asked.  Yes, but do they vacuum rooms right afterwards? It all points to her guilt now, doesn't it?

This time, though, I am not rushing to judgment.

NOTE:  Hotel maids do get attacked. Less than a month after the DSK affair, Egyptian businessman Mahmoud Abdel-Salam Omar was accused of sexual abuse of a maid at The Pierre hotel in New York City.  He entered a guilty plea. 

The Weiner Effect

In my last post (Bad Boys, June 11) I mentioned that Mildred, Arnold Schwarzenegger's housekeeper, had kept a discreet silence up until that time,  but we could be sure she would be enticed into telling her story for a generous sum. 

She apparently got an offer she couldn't refuse. She and her Arnold look-a-like son are featured in Britain's Hello magazine and also the National Enquirer in the States (and you know your eyes skim over it in the grocery check-out line, don't lie).

She is different from the other bad girls out there, who are even now considering monetary offers, in that she apparently did not want the story to become public knowledge. By some accounts it was Arnold's wife Maria who leaked the story to the press in an understandable fit of fury. Mildred and her son then found themselves the center of a maelstrom. They have remained in seclusion until now. Since we can assume her housekeeping career is over, she may have decided it was wise to take the money and talk.

When confronted by Maria in a non-aggressive way, Mildred broke down and confessed. They both cried. Mildred told Maria "not to blame Arnie because it takes two." She offered to resign immediately, but in an incredible display of self-control and suppression of homicidal instincts, Maria asked her to stay through the Christmas holidays. Well, women do know how stressful the holidays can be without help.

Today porn star Ginger Lee came forward, in what she implies is her patriotic duty, to tell us that Congressman Anthony Weiner asked her to lie about all the sexy tweets he sent to her. As I write this, she is probably considering monetary offers that have come her way since she appeared before the cameras, while Weiner gets ready to face them in order to resign from Congress.

Speaking of Weiner, have any of you wondered if the men we see constantly checking and punching their cellphones, presumably "doing business," are actually sending salacious tweets? It had never occurred to me before but now, well, it does cross my mind.

I'm calling it the Weiner effect.

Bad Boys

What is with these guys? Can you even keep track of all the self-destructive behavior we're reading about every day? What causes men in powerful positions to behave like rutting jerks? Do they really think the object of their lust is not going to talk?

Obviously not. Dominque Strauss-Kahn may have thought the maid he accosted would think she was lucky to be raped by the future president of France, or worse, that no one would believe her because she was a black maid.

The other Lotharios must think the women are content just to be on the receiving end of their bad behavior. The gals, while feigning breathless passion, are probably thinking about who they can sell their story to. Maybe it will help launch their careers, they think, into show business, modeling or Playboy. At the very least, they will get their fifteen minutes of fame.

They have reason to think it, too. Several of the many mistresses of Tiger Woods were profiled and photographed in a lavish spread for Vanity Fair. They revealed things about their relationships with him you would really rather never know, but with each detail they could hear the ca-chink! of the cash register.

Ashley Dupre, aka Kristen, the call girl who cavorted with Eliot Spitzer, former governor of New York, now writes an advice column for the New York Post. She donned a pair of glasses to show she is a serious person.

Arnold Schwarzenegger's housekeeper has kept a discreet silence so far, but what do you want to bet she has received a few lucrative offers to tell her story? Can't you see it as a made-for-TV movie?

The young women on the receiving end of Congressman Anthony Weiner's lascivious tweets seem to be enjoying their few minutes in the spotlight. Will you be surprised if a few of them end up featured as Weiner's Girls in some magazine? Here's a thought: Why not photograph them roasting wieners on a grill?

The bad boys effectively flush their powerful careers down the toilet. You'd think history would have taught them that they might get caught with, well, their pants down.

Bad girls seem to benefit, at least temporarily, from bad boys' behavior.

The Defense

Dominque Strauss-Kahn is going to try to defend himself against rape charges by claiming he had consensual sex with a chambermaid at the Sofitel hotel in New York City.

His lawyers hope to convince the jury that the sight of his porcine naked body emerging from the bathroom of his suite inflamed the loins of the 32 year old woman so much that she threw down her dust cloth and agreed (or offered) to have relations with him. When he refused to pay her afterwards, he says, she cried rape.

Hmm.

Let's imagine he is telling the truth (I know it's hard, but try to go with it) and the woman offered or allowed herself to be used by the man known in France as "the seducer." Suppose she did indeed ask for money afterwards. Why wouldn't a man known to frequent escort services just go ahead and pay her?

He wants the jury to believe this woman who didn't even know his name knew he was the head of the International Monetary Fund and possibly the next president of France, and therefore attempted to blackmail him.

Maybe his version of events would convince some people if he had not also tried to attack journalist Tristane Banon, the goddaughter of his second wife, several years ago (she described him as behaving "like a rutting chimpanzee"). Or if a few hired escorts had not described him as "very aggressive." Or if two receptionists at the Sofitel had not claimed he invited them to his room for a drink. Or if he had not left the hotel in such a hurry that he forgot his cell phone. You know how we all depend on those.

The French were incensed that he was pictured in handcuffs after his arrest. It was not dignified for a man of his stature, they cried. Personally, I found it more dignified than imagining him naked, chasing a traumatized chambermaid around his suite. Don't you agree? But the French do have a different view of these things.

France and Italy have a long- standing rivalry about which country has the better cuisine, lovers, women. An Italian friend compared French Strauss-Kahn to Italian prime minister Silvio Berlusconi, also involved in a sex scandal (see Bunga-Bunga and Other Village News, April 23, 2011):

"At least Berlusconi does not force himself on women! If he wants to make boom-boom with a woman he seduces her or he pays her!"

Hmm.

Wedding Fever! Live from London!

"Are you going to the wedding?" people ask because we live in London. We would be attending, of course, but our invitation must have gotten lost in the mail...

The Royal Wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton will take place in this city in less than 48 hours and the excitement is palpable. Flags line Pall Mall, Union Jack bunting is draped over balconies, pictures of the couple are in shop and pub windows. Giant television screens have been set up in the parks.

A million people are expected to descend on London to take part in the festivities. Already there are people sleeping in tents on the Mall and as near as they can get to Westminster Abbey.

Since the engagement, newspapers and magazines have been full of speculation about how Kate will look on the big day. Will she wear flowers in her hair (it's rumored she prefers to) or a tiara? Since she is a commoner, will the Queen lend her one of hers if she decides to go that route? Will her dress be a billowy meringue or form-fitting? I'm betting form-fitting with sleeves of some sort.

There have been constant comparisons of Kate with her deceased mother-in-law, Diana. They are nothing alike.

Kate will be 29 when she marries, Diana was barely 20. Kate has known William for eight years, Diana and Charles knew each other for a few months. Kate is a university graduate, Diana was not (she once described herself as "thick as a plank"). Kate comes from a stable and close family, Diana did not. Kate is self-assured, discreet, and calm. Diana was none of those things. Kate and William have shared university life, the same interests and friends. They lived together quietly in Wales, where they divided up household duties. Diana and Charles had nothing in common.

The one thing Kate and Diana do share is the same engagement ring. Many people find William's decision to give his fiancee his mother's ring disturbing, if only because it brought such unhappiness to Diana.

But what was Kate to do? Turn it down? Ask him to come up with something else because that blue sapphire surrounded by diamonds gave her the heeby jeebies?

William said he gave her Diana's ring so his mother could "be part of all the excitement."

The whole world wants to be a part of this excitement. Magazines in every language have cover stories about the couple. People will get up before dawn in many parts of the globe to witness every moment of the wedding day on television. We lucky ones in London can get up at a reasonable hour, but some will be too excited to sleep.

It is a cliche to say the British do pageantry like no one else, but they do. There is something about the British royal family that captures our interest in a way no other royals do. Did anyone get up early to watch the wedding of Spain's Prince Felipe to Letizia Ortiz a few years ago?

It is impossible to know or describe why we are looking forward to this big event on April 29. We just are.

Bunga-Bunga and Other Village News

We are at our place in Italy for Pasqua (Easter). I have not been here for ten months, an unusually long time. Whenever I booked a flight last year, something important came up, causing me to cancel. John and one of our daughters spent a little time here last summer, but it has been tanto tempo (too much time) for me. Allora (well then), here we are at last.

After ten months, there is village news to catch up on. The padrone (owner) of one of our favorite ristoranti (restaurants) has been separated from his wife for eight months. We should have seen it coming when we heard she once threatened him with a knife. On the other hand, this is a country where theatrical arguments can erupt over a recipe, so it's better not to read too much into things like arguments with knives. We heard subsequently that the knife was not affilato (sharp).

Sadly, the charming and hard-working Mamma at the local caffe/gelateria had a bad fall a few months ago and it has caused a real change in her. Her bustling walk has been replaced by shuffling, timid steps, and her mind seems semi-vacant. When we greeted her, she looked at us with confusion, then mild recognition when prompted.

Despite her enfeebled state, we noticed that she still cleared used cups from the tables and straightened the display of pastries under glass. She is on auto-pilot. She has always reminded me of my grandmother, right down to her painted toenails, so I am sad to see the change in her. Her daughter has a practical philosophy: La vita e` cosi (life is like that).

The padrone of the town's central caffe/pizzeria is in good form. He always seems genuinely happy to see us, though his demeanor behind the bar is generally gruff. We caught up on the news and then the conversation turned to food, as it almost always does with an Italian. The traditional Easter feast here includes agnello e spinaci (lamb and spinach). He told us i giovani (the younger generation) don't like lamb so there will be pollo (chicken), too. It is also traditional to eat una columba (a dove), a fruited bread formed in the shape of the bird that connotes peace.

At lunch with one of our most ebullient friends, the talk turned from how to cook baby carciofi (artichokes) to Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi. You don't see the connection? Food and the Berlusconi trial are important topics in Italy and one can slide into one or the other without taking a breath.

In the trial, Berlusconi is accused of paying for sex with a woman under the age of 18. She is known as Ruby Rubacuori (heartstealer) in the nightclubs where she dances. Both she and he have denied the charges.

(source: Daily Telegraph)

He is also charged with abusing his position as prime minister by asking for her release from a Milan police station after she was arrested for stealing a bracelet. He said he thought she was the niece of former President Mubarak of Egypt (she is Moroccan by birth) and he did not want to cause an international incident.

Berlusconi is the longest serving prime minister in post-World War II Italy, and one of its richest men, worth around $9 billion. His empire includes media (almost all Italian TV stations and the newspaper Il Giornale), advertising, insurance, food and construction. In this soccer-crazed country, he also owns one of its best teams: AC Milan.

He built the empire on his own, not through inheritance (though there is always talk about Mafia connections), and Italians admire that. It's easy to make money when you come from it, not so easy when you don't. His ability to run a successful empire has been sufficient evidence for many of them that he can run their country, too.

(source: Photobucket)

It is hard to find criticism of him on Italian TV because he owns most of it. You do find a lot of provocatively-clad women selling or presenting. Collagen-enhanced lips seem to be a prerequisite, along with half-revealed breasts. The bigger the better for both.

(Rai TV)

Berlusconi, who has admitted he is "no saint," has a well-known weakness for women. His second wife, whom he met when she was a topless dancer, divorced him a few years ago saying, "He likes to consort with minors."

(Daily Telegraph)

He famously urged foreign businesses to come to Italy because "we have the best-looking secretaries." The parties at his villa outside of Milan have been part of the rumor mill for years. He describes them as "normal convivial dinners." Participants, who include cabinet ministers, business associates and young women who would like to be on one of his TV stations, say they are a lot more than that. They are now referred to worldwide as his "bunga-bunga" parties, another way of saying orgies.

While most women find his attitude abhorrent, men, and not only Italian ones, joke about him in an almost admiring way. I've heard young American and Irish men say, "Boy, I'd like to be invited to one of his parties!"

A refined and learned Italian diplomat and his wife who know Berlusconi described him this way to us two years ago: "He is a beautiful man! He loves life! He loves wine, he loves women, he loves beautiful things, he loves to laugh! And he is a good businessman!"

Now let's go back to lunch with our friend. He has "never voted for Berlusconi," but he thinks he has done some good things for the country. He mentioned bringing cable TV to Italy. As for the sexual peccadillos: "What a man does in his private house is his business! He is a single man! If he wants to pay to make boom-boom with a hundred women, that is his right! Of course, he will need medication and maybe oxygen!"

(Bazinga)

For a long time Berlusconi sex stories did not affect his popularity negatively, but finally there has been a definite erosion. Only 41% of the people now approve of him, down from 62%. Still, that is not that bad for a man who has made Italy synonymous with bunga-bunga and Ruby the Heartstealer.

The judges at his trial are all women. Their verdict will tell us a lot about Italy's current state of mind, unless his long reach has already determined the outcome.

The Snake Pit

In reading about the budget drama on Capitol Hill and the possibility of a government shutdown, I am reminded of my first days as a Capitol Hill staffer. What does one have to do with the other, you ask? Nothing, in terms of the battle of the budget cuts. Everything, in terms of the backstabbing nastiness that can pervade Capitol Hill at all levels.

Let me add that I worked there before things got as ugly as they are now. However, they were unpleasant enough that I remember thinking, after being employed for less than a week, that I had entered a Byzantine snake pit.

The day I was hired to work for United States Senate I was ecstatic. The Democrats had just taken the majority again and there was a renewed energy in the Capitol. I had a (shared) office in the Capitol Building itself. A day at work meant encountering senators at every turn as they made their way to the Senate floor or back to their offices in the Dirksen, Russell, or Hart Buildings. My job was such that I got to know some of their personal habits and quirks.

When the majority changes in the Senate, everything else does, too. The majority party moves into the better committee offices, the officers of the Senate are replaced by the new majority leader, positions are lost or downgraded. One expects that members of the new minority might have a few resentments about the changes. Their professional lives have been turned upside down, but in the words of Hyman Roth (The Godfather, Part II) "This is the business we have chosen."

One might also expect that the new majority would band together in victorious camaraderie, looking out for each other and helping one another learn the ropes.

I expected that. I was wrong.

From what I observed and experienced, too many people were either territorially or personally paranoid. Some would make phone calls from a booth instead of their offices for fear of being bugged. A display of initiative might threaten someone. A simple question could cause offense. A joke could be taken the wrong way. Better to forget any attempt at humor. A lunch in the cafeteria with someone of the opposite sex could start rumors of an affair. Always be on guard. Your friends could be your enemies.

Note: I am talking only about the staffers, not the senators, who might have reason to be cautious at all times.

An extremely capable, and therefore threatening, friend who went on to much bigger things, was the victim of ugly anonymous letters from someone who worked with him.

A young woman I know who had dreamed of a career in politics went to work in an established senator's office right after college. Her experience with a nasty, hard-bitten female boss caused her to reconsider her career path.

Another friend, an African American woman with many years of experience on the Hill, was subject to such obvious discrimination that she successfully sued those responsible.

All of these observances might be found in any office anywhere in the world. Perhaps unrealistically, I expected a more elevated atmosphere in the Senate. I was naive. I still look back on my experience there with gratitude that I was given the opportunity to have had it at all.

The most enduring memory of my time there: Leaving the Capitol building on a cold February evening, looking up at the lighted white dome with an inky blue-black sky behind it and thinking, despite a particularly bad day, how lucky I was to work there.

During this particularly bitter budget battle, I hope at least a few of our representatives have the same feeling.