My Most Embarrassing Confession EVER

A long time ago, in a land far, far away, I used to have a crush on this dude:

Yes, that is right. When I was in high school, I had a crush on Dan Quayle’s son, Benjamin Quayle (after, now this is even MORE embarrassing, reading and studying the photographs in Dan Quayle’s book Standing Firm: A Vice Presidential Memoir). It is probably the most humiliating thing I could ever reveal about myself, considering that guy is running for Congress in Arizona of all places, and as it turns out, is probably one of the biggest d-bags of all time. I didn’t keep up with Dan Quayle’s kids much after high school as my politics took a turn in a different direction, but had I known that this kid went to Duke as an undergrad, it probably would have put an abrupt end to the crush right then and there (he also went to the high school in DC that David and I always joked that we would send our adult sons). Ben went on to marry a “Tiffany” which, most assuredly, makes much more sense in a Quayle universe. From the sound of things, if elected, he might be one sex scandal away from having to resign in disgrace before even elected. So, he is probably perfectly poised for victory in the most logical of states, Arizona.

(After all, that nonsensical commercial with a script of one short sentence after another, each that bears no relationship to the prior sentence, must only make sense in a state that elects officials who pass similarly nonsensical immigration laws. “Drug cartels in Mexico, tax cartels in DC, what’s happened to America?” I’ll tell you what has happened, Ben. People are so stupid that they could be persuaded by a commercial that links drug cartels in a different country with taxes in our country and then uses those two things as evidence of concern over what has happened to America. Bad writing in campaign commercials, Ben, that is what has happened. However, I am interested to see what your definition of “knocking the hell out of” Washington is. Does it involve physical violence? Do you make a grand display of punching the Capitol Building or maybe knocking Nancy Pelosi down while she is walking into the House chamber one day? How does a young Quayle go about “knocking the hell” out of something? Also according to Ben’s logic, I guess that I must have been raised wrong, because I don’t love Arizona. I would like to “knock the hell out” of it; only I don’t think I could manage to punch that sheriff of Maricopa County, without getting arrested.)

Please don’t judge me for my past indiscretion too harshly. I was fifteen years old, and I am the one that will have to live with the permanency of the various messages people wrote in my yearbook mocking my crush. Thankfully, my other high school crush, Dante Calabria, the North Carolina basketball player with the famed luscious locks of hair envied by Dick Vitale, is somewhat less humiliating.

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