The reverend, responding to a column I wrote recently that referred to his reputation as an ill-informed rabble-rouser, called to set me straight. He was respectful, but at the end of our talk, I knew I'd been chastised.

Sharpton's assistant called first. "I've been trying to reach you since last week, but your mailbox is full," she said.

It's probably full of callers cussing me out, I told her.

"Get ready for another one," she said. "The Rev. Sharpton would like to speak to you."

That's intimidating, and not just because I hadn't been rebuked by a preacher since the Rev. Sawyer thought he saw my 12-year-old self taking more money out of the collection plate than I put in.

It's intimidating because when he's on his game, Sharpton is an eloquent advocate for the downtrodden, a man who can make presidents squirm.

When he's not on his game, though, he allows himself to become a mouthpiece for one of those payday loan outfits accused of exploiting poor people with loans and interest rates that would make the Mafia blush.

If you haven't already seen the ads in which Sharpton pitches woo for a Georgia car-title loan company, you won't: The ads have ceased.

Someone from Durham, he said, "called and told me, 'I think these guys are predatory lenders,' and I told him to show me evidence of that."

Sharpton said he wasn't accusing the company of wrongdoing, but he "wrote ... a letter and severed my ties with them."

I promised Sharpton that I'd publicize his jumping out of bed with the alleged predators with the same glee that I publicized his jumping into it.

"That's not why I'm calling," he said.

Fans of Sharpton, and even those who aren't, should appreciate his willingness to acknowledge his mistake, although it's hard to imagine him making such a boneheaded move in the first place.

There is a lot about the reverend that makes his fans shudder, but there is also a lot that is worthwhile and admirable.

OK, maybe not from where you're sitting, but if you've ever eaten a fried bologna sandwich for dinner and been glad to get it -- or if you're one of the 37 million Americans the Census Bureau said were living in poverty in 2004 -- Sharpton was the only presidential candidate in the last election who consistently spoke for you.

Hurricane Katrina seems to have washed the poor into general view -- at least momentarily -- so others have discovered them. For right now.

Sharpton also, thank goodness, dispelled the rumor that he was going to star in a TV sitcom called "Al in the Family."

"I haven't done the things I've done to be in a sitcom," he said. There were discussions between Paramount and someone else for a television series, he said, but they have ended.

"I'm not interested in being Archie Bunker," he said. "I'm looking forward to becoming George Bush."

Say what you want about the reverend -- and I probably already have -- but I prefer having him around to not. As long as he stops trying to be the loan arranger.