Broadsides from the pirate captain of the Jet Set
New York
After his second smash-up in three weeks, Patrick Kennedy was escorted home by obliging cops and to hell with any test for booze or drugs. Tests are for the lower orders, not Kennedys. Chappaquid-ding one’s way out of trouble is in the Kennedy tradition. A smash-up is followed by a cover-up, then by denial of responsibility due to circumstances beyond their control, all neatly presented in a press conference for genuflecting hacks, and then on to rehab. Congressman Kennedy says that he doesn’t remember anything about the crash. He would, wouldn’t he? He was speeding, driving in the wrong lane and, after smashing into a barrier, was unsteady on his feet, his speech slurred and his eyes red and watery. Witnesses at a local bar said he had been drinking. Kennedy insists he had not. The cops took his word. A nice touch, that.
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