Scandals Breed Great Words

I just love icky sex scandals.

No, I’m not terribly interested in who did what to whom, although that can sometimes be kind of fun.

What gets me is the subject of the scandal always has an excuse and that breeds great euphemisms for some pretty skanky behavior.

Last year, South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford disappeared, and the story was he was hiking the Appalachian Trail. 

Close. He was chasing Argentinian Tail.

Sanford was off in Argentina, chasing after his “soul mate,” a lovely lass who lives down there. I don’t think Sanford’s wife was terribly amused, given she divorced the cad and wrote a book about the ex. I can’t say the book was particularly warm to the ex, but what do you expect?

Of course now, whenever somebody is off having an elicit affair, we can dance around the subject by saying they’re just hiking the Appalachian Trail. Who knew marching around the woods in boots amid the mosquitoes could be so sexy?

The latest scandal unfolded this week in Miami, where one George Rekers is our latest deer in the headlights.

Rekers is on the board of some organization that claims they can turn gay men straight. (Something, by the way, legitimate psychiatrists says is just about impossible) Rekers also lobbied in favor of Florida’s law banning adoption by gay would-be parents.

Rekers was caught this week returning from a vacation with somebody he calls Lucien, a lithe young gay man.  Judging from published reports, Rekers hired this guy from a Web site called rentboy.com

Rentboy is apparently where people  go if they want to hire a gay prostitute or escort. By the way, don’t see for yourself what rentboy.com is like if you happen to be at work. The boss might frown on that.

Rekers says he’s completely misunderstood in this incident. See, he had recent surgery, and when he takes a trip, he needs somebody to help him lift his luggage.

Lucien was the man for the job.

Aha! So that’s what they call it these days. Lifting luggage. Already, there’s a new way of saying “Whatever floats your boat” pinging around the Web. Instead, you just say, “Whatever lifts your luggage.”

So thanks, George Rekers, for giving us all a more colorful way of saying, “I hired a gay prostitute and went to a tropical island where we, uh, never mind.”

It’s OK, George. I’ll see you on the Appalachian Trail.

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