The news this week is filled with people making bad decisions. Tyson Gay. A-Rod. Anthony Weiner.

Druggies. Philanderers. Even our local Portland papers are gushing with messy details of a Multnomah County* Commissioner’s affair with a co-worker.

Sleaze City.

The recent report of sprinters from America and Jamaica testing positive for performance enhancing drugs has put a huge damper on the upcoming World Track & Field Championships in Moscow next month. Suddenly everyone is suspect, and the IAAF is pledging to crack-down on cheaters harder than they are presently cracking-down on cheaters.

We know several professional athletes who are tested often – at random… and by “at random”, I mean at 6a with a knock at the door, whether they are at home or in a hotel room in a different city/country. And by “tested”, I mean the United States Anti-Doping Association (USADA) official (gender specific) tracks them down and watches them pee into a sample cup. Imagine how humiliating this is for the athlete.

Then imagine how humiliating a job this must be for the USADA official. Your job is to collect urine samples randomly from sleeping athletes at the wee-hours (pun so totally intended) of the morning.

Be caught cheating and you are history. DT and I watched nearly every moment of the Tour de France this month and the words “Lance Armstrong” barely passed an announcers lips.

What makes people cheat – especially since the odds are not in their favor? You are going to be caught. You are going to test positive. Your mistress is going to tweet that photo of your package. You are not above the law. You are just another idiot. You are going to shame your family. Your kids will no longer respect you. Your Mom will cry. Your name will no longer be mentioned on ESPN/Fox News. You will be the Lord Voldemort He Who Must Not Be Named of the sporting/political world. No more fan mail. No one wants your autograph. People will give you the stink eye at the Piggly Wiggly.

What we need is a spouse to step-up and say no. No, I will no longer abide your constant affairs. No, I will not stand, smiling, by your side at your insincere apologetic press conferences. You are not sorry you lied; you are sorry you were caught. The kids and I are out of your “happy family” scenario. Goodbye.

My Brother Rick often comments: Why do people make a mess of their lives when it is so easy to simply do the right thing? You get up in the morning, put on your pants/skirt, get to work and be the best you can be. (Without steroids, stealing, or cheating.) How big is the ego that feels it okay to break rules, or that “the rules” do not apply if you are a famous athlete, politician… or county commissioner?

It’s called character. Get some.

Until my next update, I remain, your opinionated correspondent.

*The RV Goddess does not live in Multnomah County

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