Last week Texas-born investment banker Jack Worthington made headlines with claims that he was the long-lost love child of John F. Kennedy and his mother Evelyn, a former Texas schoolteacher. Worthington contends that four years ago his life was turned upside down when his mother told him that Jack Kennedy, not Jack Worthington, the man who raised him, was his dad. Worthington’s family has called the story “fabricated” and “unequivocally false.” According to Vanity Fair, currently featuring a cover story of the so-called “Pretender to Camelot,” results of DNA tests of hair samples allegedly taken from JFK indicate “non-paternity.”

 

This lukewarm scandal has followed hot on the heels of another quick-fizz story: the alleged John McCain/Vicki Iseman affair that supposedly happened—yawn—eight years ago, and there isn’t even any illegitimate offspring involved. Oh, please.

 

The last big-deal sex scandal made news not due to sex itself, but because it involved a gay airport bathroom sting, major allegations of hypocrisy, and just plain weenie-like behavior. Alleged pervetrator, former Idaho Sen. Larry Craig, is a known conservative who has repeatedly voted against gay rights, even going so far as to oppose a move to make violence against gays a hate crime. But frankly, the description of his allegedly peering into crack of a stall door to gaze at an undercover police officer, combined with the foot-tapping signal was just too funny to ignore. What tickled me most was the claim that when arrested, Craig flashed his U.S. Senator I.D. card, reportedly saying, “What do you think about that?” Loser!

 

When I was young, the Donna Rice/Gary Hart/Monkey Business situation (the name of his boat creating sweet snarkalicious headlines), destroyed the presidential hopeful’s career instantly. Of course, the schaudenfreude was tasty; Hart had literally dared members of the press to follow him if they wanted to get some dirt, and predicted that anyone who would tail him would “be very bored.” Ha! The press immediately sent photos of the fresh-faced Rice sitting on that old man’s lap all over the media, which led to Rice’s famous No Excuses jeans ad campaign. Today Rice is married, going by the name Donna Rice Hughes, has re-embraced her Christianity, and is an ardent anti-pornography advocate.

 

Fast forward to today, when the McCain accusations barely made a blip on the radar, and it looks like Worthington’s 15 minutes are up (not that he was a fame-seeker, necessarily. He claims he only went public because Vanity Fair was willing to obtain the DNA testing for him in exchange for his interview).  Are we tiring of these old white men and their freaky-dekey bedroom habits?

 

News alert: as I am writing this, word has just broken of New York Gov. Eliot Spitzer’s admitted involvement in a prostitution ring. Because no intimate details have been leaked just yet, I have no snarky comments to make yet. I will say this: just as I thought I was sick of hearing about these politicians’ illicit affairs and scandals, I was quick googling photos of Spitzer’s wife, Silda, just to check her out. She’s pretty good looking…what’s wrong with him?

 

I just hope photos of the high-priced hooker are released soon. Her, I have got to see.