A lesson from big Russ

Regular readers may remember that last Fall, I scooped the euro-biased media by publishing a transcript of Tim Russert's testimony to the Plame grand jury. I was reminded of that testimony today, when I read that Arianna Huffington was complaining about Mr. Russert's use of Rovian tactics against her. It's heartwarming to see a man use the lessons he learned as a boy in the fight against our domestic enemies.

Here's the relevant clip from Russert's testimony:

MR. RUSSERT: Well, I must have been about ten or eleven--I was in the sixth grade. I had a crush on a girl named Beth. She was the most beautiful girl in our class. Every recess I'd try to get her attention by hurling dodgeballs at her head.

One day, just as I was ready to throw, Bobby Hindenlocker snuck up behind me and gave me a wedgie. Of course, Beth laughed, and I was thoroughly humiliated.

That night at dinner, Big Russ noticed that I wasn't fighting for the last pork chop with my usual vigor and asked if something was bothering me. I had tried to put on a brave face until then, but Big Russ's question unleashed the logjam of emotions I worked so hard to hide. Sobbing, I told him of my love for Beth and the shame I had felt because of Bobby's treachery. I ended my story with a vow to beat Bobby to a pulp the next day.

Big Russ reached over and gave me a big hug and told me that fighting people wouldn't solve my problems. "It's better to destroy their families," he said. Then he took me by the hand and led me up into the attic, the one place in the house that was forbidden to children.

I can't describe how proud I felt at that moment. By taking me to the attic, the domain of men, Big Russ was acknowledging that I was ready to become a man and learn the secrets of the brotherhood.

Overwhelmed by this rite of passage, I hadn't noticed that Big Russ was digging a box out of a pile of old curtains in the corner until he opened it and pulled out a big bag of white powder. "What's that," I asked. Big Russ responded by dipping his finger into the powder, tasting it, and declaring "pure horse." My father had just repeated a scene from the opening credits of my favorite TV show, "The Mod Squad." By doing so, he had connected with me at my level. Big Russ was always doing things like that. It's what made us so close.

He then pulled out a pistol and explained that it had been used in a number of liquor store robberies. Big Russ told me to take the bag of heroin and the pistol over to Bobby's house and hide them. Once I returned, he'd tip off the police and Bobby's dad would go to the big house. That would eventually lead to divorce and destitution for Bobby's family, and I'd have my revenge.

I followed Big Russ's advice, and you know what, he was absolutely right. In less than a year, Bobby and his mother had moved to Topeka to live with her family. He never embarrassed me again.

Big Russ was the wisest man I ever knew.