State Rep. Ty Harrell's Web site lists as one of his accomplishments an honor he received from MADD -- Mothers Against Drunk Drivers -- for a bill he introduced stiffening the penalty for anyone providing booze to kids.
No mention is made of another organization, MATH -- Mother Against Ty Harrell -- and its charter member, Melanie Dupon.
Dupon is one mad mother. She is also Harrell's estranged wife. She accused Bow Ty, with whom she has two sons, of doing the Jones Street Stanky Leg -- an actual dance, folks -- with someone other than her. They are now divorcing, a personal tragedy that exacerbates, some might say played a part in, the precipitous political misfortunes that culminated Sunday with Harrell's resignation.
Before it came out that Harrell's wife had kicked him out of the house and onto a friend's sofa outside his district, the dapper Democrat seemed to be a rising political star. That is, he was young, moderate and displayed a willingness to work across party lines.
When I spoke with fellow Democratic State Rep. Dan Blue on Monday, he commended Harrell "for having served his district conscientiously." Blue added, "I understand people have challenges on the domestic front." For Democrats, Blue said, Harrell's resignation "will present a tougher challenge in the general election because that's a swing district, and we've given up the advantage of incumbency."
I didn't live in Harrell's district, but there are three reasons I hated to see him resign.
First, it was cool seeing in the legislature a bowtie-wearing brother who looked like he might have a copy of "Muhammad Speaks" -- the old name of the black Muslims' newspaper -- in his briefcase. Every time I saw him walking downtown, often coming out of one of the expensive restaurants where some of his questionable spending is alleged to have occurred, I half-expected him to walk up and ask "Bean pie, my brother?"
(You see, the Muslim men wear bowties, and back in the day financed a lot of their operations through the sale of ... oh, forget it.)
Second, a lot of men probably wanted to hear Harrell explain how, as he is alleged to have done, you can cheat on your wife, raise kids and drive a Jaguar on the $14,000 that a legislator earns a year. (That's been his only reported income since November 2007.) I tell you what: that would be a heckuva subject for a book: "How To Have Bling and a Fling (Despite Your Ring) on $269 a Week."
Third and most importantly, I wanted to give Harrell the benefit of the doubt for his profligate spending. Homeslice, though, was going to be hard-pressed to explain how pricey kids' clothes qualify as campaign expenses and why he was picking up fat tabs for meals at high-eatin' joints like The Mint and McCormick & Schmick's when the legislature wasn't even in session.
After looking at Harrell's dining expenses and the apparent fallout from his marital woes, you can reach only one conclusion: Not only is it cheaper to keep her, but it's also cheaper to eat at home.
