In the comments section of the previous post, my Friend Mike Thomas from Rhetoric & Rhythm said this:
As for Sheila Jackson Lee, she doesn’t hold a candle to Bachmann on the looney scale.
I object. I mean, Lee is 100% certifiable. Just ask anyone who used to work for her (by 2002, she had gone through 85 aides). In this article by Sam Dealey from February, 2002, her wanton sense of entitlement is laid bare for all to see:
It’s about 200 paces from the awning of Jackson Lee’s Capitol Hill apartment to the marbled steps of the Cannon House Office Building, where her office is. Most people think the walk is a pleasant one. Red-brick townhouses give onto tree-lined streets; crossing guards ensure no one is run over. It’s the kind of neighborhood where you might expect to find the Republican party’s headquarters–and do. They’re right next door to Jackson Lee’s building. In a city that consistently ranks among the nation’s worst for commuting, Jackson Lee would seem to have it made.
But apparently it’s not convenient enough. Jackson Lee is routinely chauffeured the one short block to work–in a government car, by a member of her staff, at the taxpayers’ expense. And apparently in violation of House rules.
I guess we should be happy that at least she hasn’t killed anyone, like her fellow Democrat Ted “The Swimmer” Kennedy. What is it with Democrats and cars, anyway?
Take, for example, the morning of December 6, a balmy Thursday when the temperature in Washington would climb to 73 degrees. At 8:43, a blue Ford Contour with government plates–the car Jackson Lee’s office has leased–pulled up to her building. For the next 23 minutes, the aide impeded traffic on one of Capitol Hill’s busiest streets, pulling in and out of alleys and reserved parking spaces. Finally, at 9:06, Jackson Lee appeared.
The aide jumped from the car and hurried to help the congresswoman. First she opened the rear door so Jackson Lee could deposit a bag and sheaf of papers; then she opened the passenger door. But Jackson Lee took this opportunity to place a phone call, and the aide stood patiently by. After a minute or so of this, Jackson Lee determined she was ready to climb in. But something was wrong. An uncomfortable moment passed as the congresswoman and aide stared at each other. Of course! Jackson Lee’s coat and shawl were still on!
The aide sprang to remove the garments, and Jackson Lee gave an exasperated look. After Jackson Lee climbed in, the aide gently closed the door, scurried around the rear of the car to the driver’s seat, and they were off to the office, a block away. It was such a short trip, Jackson Lee didn’t even bother to fasten her seatbelt.
This isn’t even the worst of it. Look what she does to the airlines:
For years, Jackson Lee tormented the airline’s office in Washington that handles VIP booking. When Congress was in session, her staff would make several reservations early in the week for return flights to Houston. After the House finished its business that week, she would grab whichever flight was most convenient and scrap the others. But this kind of rule-bending put the carrier in a difficult position. Not only was Jackson Lee only paying coach fare (she was routinely bumped up to first class), but Continental was unable to sell the premier seats she didn’t use.
Talk about a sense of entitlement and abuse of power! Will no one stand up to her?
That outburst prompted a phone call to Jackson Lee from Rebecca Cox, vice president of Continental’s government affairs office in Washington and the wife of California Republican Chris Cox. The message? Straighten up and fly right, or don’t fly with us.
Finally, look how she treats her own staff:
A year earlier, at a March 2, 1998, reenactment of the march on Selma, an irate Jackson Lee called her scheduler in D.C. demanding to know why she hadn’t been given a ride to the event by the organizer, as a white colleague had been. According to the aide–who quit after just a month and a half on the job–Jackson Lee shrieked, “You don’t understand. I am a queen, and I demand to be treated like a queen.” [emphasis mine]
There you have it — the Queen of Congressional Loonies. Michele Bachmann is no prize, but she doesn’t come anywhere near Lee as far as craziness goes. Bachmann isn’t even in the same league.
Prove me wrong — I dare you!
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July 23rd, 2009 at 9:27 am
Not sure I understand what the point of this little p*ssing match is, given both a) the undeniable quantity of certifiable crazy on both sides of the political aisle and b) the obviously subjective nature of “crazy” as a descriptor – barring a medical degree in Psychiatry.