Take me away: Gov. Sanford

So I feel pretty silly, not knowing or even suggesting to anyone that Governor Sanford was having an affair, wasn't hiking in the Appalachians as he led us to believe.

The transcript of his confession indicates that he's getting some religious coaching, attends a bible study, and is trying to work this through whatever this is. No matter, he says, his heart is in the right place. We're not judging.

Five months later, still attending to his studies, still consulting with his spiritual advisers, still no change. Just blather about a walk in the woods, more lies, and another disappearing act or three. More misbehavin'.

Are we out of line to suggest the obvious? Like, Get therapy, Governor Sanford.

Thanks Mary Ann Chastain at The Fix-Chris Cillizza's politics blog at the Washington Post for that photograph that what will be, one day, famous, maybe already is.

Man cries. Feels the angst.

During the day the news just got juicier-- while my sympathetic post from this morning, alas, all about getting away, finding a happy medium between tuning out and neglecting one's relationships, did not.

That said, here you go. At least you find out what I did yesterday, knocking off work. And you'll see, apparently, I wasn't the only one duped.

There are ways of getting away, you know, and there are ways of getting away.

You can do what Governor Sanford did, hop into your SUV with your hiking boots to commune with nature; or you can say to your best friend, your main squeeze, that significant other, not just anyone,

Take me away.

Which is what we did, me and FD, took off a weekday to celebrate our 34th anniversary, 35th year of our relationship.

We pretended we were going on our first date and bopped around downtown. The idea was to enjoy the day together, see the people, feel the pulse, but focus on each other. If only for a day. Our phones would still ring and we would take calls, as always. But we could do it, get away, the easy way.

Before getting out of the house, however, FD handed me the Wall Street Journal and said, "Can you kindly make sense of this story for me? As a mental health professional, can you please tell me:

What is going on with this guy!!??"

In case you're unfamiliar with the story, South Carolina Gov. Mark Sanford took off last Thursday night in a sports utility vehicle, unattended by his bodyguard, for five days. Alex Roth and Valerie Bauerlein at WSJ tell us,

Mr. Sanford has regularly ditched his bodyguards when taking a run or dashing out to Taco Bell or other favorite spots in the past.

He didn't tell anyone where he was going, apparently felt like hiking the Appalachian Trail. The word is that the Governor does this now and again, turns off his phone and doesn't tell anyone where he is going, usually after a legislative session. He needs to unwind.

He has a lot on his mind, and one way to clear it is to take off.

Except that he's the Governor. That's Governor with a capital g, a man many hope to be a US Presidential contender in 2012.**

That's basically the whole story. Man gets tired of it all. Man goes off into the woods, does whatever it is guys do when they need to get away.

Everyone copes differently. And it's likely that the good people of South Carolina could care less. They elected him, and they know the score. The state is a mess and Sanford doesn't want to accept the Federal stimulus package, the President's bail out, doesn't believe in it.

This might be a difficult thing for an elected official to pull off, turning down $700 million dollars.

That's a lot of stress.

First Lady Jenny Sanford of Winnetka, Illinois, by the way, a long way from home, told the Associated Press on Monday that she hadn't heard from him, but that he

"was writing something and wanted some space to get away from the kids."

And FD wants to know what I think.

I'd say, quick and dirty, that the Sanford marriage is a good example of how far a guy can stretch that rubber band and still not break it. We're not hearing Mrs. Sanford complaining to reporters. In fact, she's avoiding them. A little space can be good for a relationship.

We also hit a wedding last night and balancing hors d'euvres and drinks with two other women, both of them started to tell me this story at the exact same moment. It was hysterical because neither stopped, so it was hard to hear what either of them said, but one surely thought it outrageous that Governor Sanford does this, goes unaccountable for four days running, and the other thought it phenomenal.

His fan, the one who thought it phenomenal, screamed, "Poor guy decides to turn off his phone for a couple of days and everyone acts as if he's committed a federal offense."

Well, leaving the state unattended may not be a federal offense, but it's not exactly model citizenship.

The women are talking at me, and the crowd starts to fill in, everyone's all dressed in their best, one guest more beautiful than the next, and all of a sudden I've got that song in my head, the Natasha Bedingfield song*, the one that goes,

I got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine.
I got a love, and I know that it's all mine.
Oh.

Do what you want, but you're never gonna break me.
Sticks and stones are never gonna shake me.
No.

Take me away: A secret place.
A sweet escape: Take me away.

Take me away to better days.
Take me away: A higher place.

I got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine.
I got a love, and I know that it's all mine.
Oh.

Wish that you could, but you ain't gonna own me.
Do anything you can to control me.
Oh, no.

Take me away: A secret place.
A sweet escape: Take me away.

There's a place that I go,
But nobody knows.
Where the rivers flow,
And I call it home.

And there's no more lies.
In the darkness, there's light.
And nobody cries.
There's only butterflies.

Take me away: A secret place.
A sweet escape: Take me away.

Take me away to better days.
Take me away: A higher place.

The sun is on my side.
Take me for a ride.
I smile up to the sky.
I know I'll be all right.

The sun is on my side.
Take me for a ride.
I smile up to the sky.
I know I'll be all right.

It's not all that hard to do this, you know, get away. It's a psychological thing, or it can be. Sometimes being with a lot of people, being anonymous (or not) in a huge crowd, in the big city, is as good as it gets.

We really did pretend it was our first date, a blind date. I'm by myself at the fountain (in reality he's dropped me off to park the car).

I get a call.

It's him.

"I'm nearing the park," he says. "How will I recognize you?"

"I'm in a black dress, standing by the red sculpture, overlooking the fountain, talking on the phone."

"Okay. I'm wearing a dark straw hat."

"A straw hat?"

"Uh, huh."

I see him approaching and I walk towards him. "Excuse me, are you looking for me?"

"Are you ____?"

"Yes. Did you bring food?"

That's kind of how our dates go.

Anyway, it was fun, people-watching and reminding ourselves what it was like to be young, or merely to be on vacation. For who has time, anyway, even if you're not a governor, in the middle of the day, in the middle of the week, to go downtown and look at the skyline?

We were too late to get into the Art Institute, but the gardens were open and some high school aged kids were romping around, taking each others' pictures.

And we made it to the that wedding, too, which was wonderful.

So no, we didn't turn off our phones, and miraculously, neither of us had many calls. It was like they knew, not that we told anyone. And he looked great, and he said I did, too. It's nice to dress up and just go.

Millenium Park teemed with people, for it always does, and everyone it seemed was in a good mood.

It's been a long winter and summer's finally here.

Here are a couple of pictures, in case you've never been to Chicago's downtown playground. The monolith with the reddish portrait is a moving picture, the camera is on her, I think, and she's in the park somewhere, for all we know. It's really quite remarkable. You can't tell, maybe, but the monolith is a fountain.

And these kids are just goofing around by the Chinese sculpture exhibit. They're not the art students mentioned above, but they're quite adorable.


So I'm thinking, Governor Sanford, maybe you could do this, too. Grab the missus and take her with you, wherever it is you go, or perhaps compromise, go someplace she wants to go that works for you, too. Get a sitter if you have to, tell someone how to reach you, and go. Start working on a smaller rubber band.

For the sake of the nation, the Republicans would say.

And maybe take in a wedding, while you're at it.


Although something tells me you won't see weddings like this one in South Carolina. But I could be wrong. They're feel-good events, in any case. Most of the time.

therapydoc

*If you're religious and blush easily and don't like seeing alluring women singing in YouTube videos, don't watch this one with Natasha Bedingfield singing Pocket Full of Sunshine.

**This is NOT a political blog, not an endorsement of Gov Sanford for president in 2012. It's just a story and he happens to add the brushstrokes. Thanks, Gov, and I hope someone checked you out for lime disease.