"Sad" seems the key word in quoted reactions to Ted Stevens' predicament. John McCain used it. Stevens used a variant. Two senators, one Congressman, and candidates Mark Begich and Diane Benson invoked "a sad day." Other interpreters of meaning staked out adjacent theatrical ground: Sen. Orin Hatch was "very hurt" and "felt badly." Sen. John Warner said "all of us have times that we have to deal with that are tough."
NPR's "Day to Day" worried, "Will Alaskans turn on him?" And a Southcentral mayor hoped Stevens and his family "have the strength to get through this." It's as if Ted was felled by an incurable disease, or maybe shot by Dick Cheney, rather than implicated in selling out Alaska for personal gain.
But if most Republicans were saddened, others (to hear them tell it) yawned. State House Speaker John Harris said, "It isn't Earth-shattering anymore. It's not shocking." And pollster David Dittman thought the story almost "old news."
Funny. I knew lots of people who were trading high fives, pumping their fists and saying "Finally!" People were phoning each other: "Did you hear?"
It was darkly celebratory, sure, but mostly I sensed relief. And gratitude, too, that the system seemed to work as well high up the ladder as it had at lower rungs (with three bribed legislators doing time in federal prison, and more likely to follow).
A grand jury said there was probable cause to believe Stevens received and concealed $250,000 in "things of value" from convicted briber Bill Allen at the very time Ted was steering federal money to Allen's company, Veco.
True, Stevens is presumed innocent pending a verdict in his criminal trial. But his supporters leaped to conclusions too. Pollster Dittman told the press, "there's not a whole lot there." But how would he know? He hasn't heard the FBI's secretly recorded phone calls between Stevens and Allen. The grand jury likely has.
At trial, we can expect wonderful forensic contortions as Ted explains accepting a brand new Land Rover worth $44,000 as fair trade for his 35-year-old Mustang. Hard to plead ignorance of money matters when the guy on the sweet end of the deal had been overseeing federal spending since approximately the Pleistocene.
Another quaint irony is Stevens forlornly casting himself as the wounded hero in a horse opera: "I have been there for you every time you were in trouble. It looks like I might be in trouble this time, and I want you to be (there) for me."
Please. The man's calling card is a volcanic temper, naked intimidation, and a taste for political payback. He wears an Incredible Hulk tie when he expects to muscle people into submission; his Taz tie foreshadows screaming fits. As a storyline, "Ted the victim" requires more suspension of disbelief than I can muster.
He once threatened, "If you want a wounded bull on the floor of the Senate, pass this amendment!" Another time, cross-eyed with rage: "People who vote against this today are voting against me and I will not forget!"
Somehow, though, I find myself affected by the pathos. Ted backed some issues that earned him Republican ire, not favor. He championed public broadcasting and said he was pro-choice. He supported the National Endowment for the Arts, even as Don Young savaged it with salvos of ignorance and bombast.
And so now, finally, what? As graceful an exit as circumstances allow, I think. Stevens must abandon the absurd dodge that accounting for his behavior amounts to obstruction of justice. He owes us an explanation. Alaskans have a right to that, or to a representative who is accountable.
If he wants to pursue every available legal defense, as any regular citizen might do, then he should become a regular citizen. By resigning. If he insists on clinging to public office (like, ugh, Larry Craig), he must explain his apparently illegal behavior, and suffer the people's will.
Otherwise, we will cheer the integrity of DOJ's Criminal Division, and in November bring down the curtain on Ted Stevens' 40-year run.
Dan O'Neill is the author of "The Firecracker Boys," among other books. He has lived in Fairbanks since 1975.
By DAN O'NEILL