By Loren Adams, 10
April 2011
(Jonathon, the
writer, is a congressional page from Central Florida.)
In a few days we
found out. Stadler invited us nine male pages
(conspicuously excluding the female) to a reception in an adjacent Watergate
complex to his condo for supposedly to meet some defense contractors, a few
pharmaceutical CEOs and their friends. Mark's wife had flown down to Lakeland
for the weekend, so it looked sort of fishy. Congressman Duke Cunningham was
there, along with Jack Abramoff, Tom DeLay and a whole bunch of guys from
Carlyle, Enron, Halliburton, Bechtel, United Defense and Rand Corporation. Plus
over a dozen guys from "K" Street where most of the lobbyists hung
out when they weren't on Capitol Hill writing legislation under the table for
reps and senators.
Well, it was one helluva party. The congressmen gambled and corporate heads with
their politician puppets arranged for the players to "win." Big time. As in tens of thousands each on that one night alone. Yeah, the tables were rigged to make the politicians win so corporate
"donations" couldn't be construed as bribery or illegal campaign
financing. There's more ways than one to skin a cat, whether under the table or
changing the law to fit the crime. It only takes money. Lots
of it. That's how sick the system works.
Of course, now
corporations can give unlimited cash under the table, thanks to the Bush
Supremes that ruled in favor of phony front Citizens United. But back then
there were a few rules to get around.
But this was over
ten years ago – back when Mark Foley was instant messaging graphic sex to
underage pages and Ted Haggard was being serviced by male escorts in Denver
– all the while masquerading as born-again Christians deeply devoted to anti-gay-family-values.
Pat Robertson’s political boy, Ralph Reed, was also part of the scene playing
the role as Abramoff’s lapdog. However, the era may be more accurately depicted
as chronic corruption related to ill-gotten gain – as the bigger picture
quintessentially involves money and power, two words inseparable in the
political arena.
Congressmen took in
thousands in bribe money. Then the defense contractors had another surprise in
store. From a back door several luscious prostitutes strode into the room.
Yeah, practically naked! I couldn't believe my eyes. Congressmen and senators
were allowed to choose from among the "selections." Then it was
suggested they pay escorts with poker money they'd just "earned."
Mind you, these were "Christian right-wing conservative" politicians
sitting around the room, not the "immoral" left.
But the most
startling discovery among the lineup of prostitutes was that a quarter of them
were guys! Yeah, nearly nude dudes! I could only imagine what the reaction
would be in congressmen's home districts should voters find out. Or if someone had a hidden camera somewhere and released videos to
the media. Or the FBI. Or on the net (YouTube
as yet didn’t exist).
From congressmen's
choices, we could visibly detect their preferences. Talk about "open
government"! Most of the men chose females; but over a quarter chose
males; and two chose a combination of both. Incredible. And shamelessly they
were picking hookers right in front of us. It was a glorified meat-market.
I noticed one
senator, the junior from Pennsylvania, chose a male escort. He was infamous, we were informed, for picking up high-priced male
hookers in Manhattan while on "business." He was the most radical
anti-abortion, anti-gay guy in the room – a super-“Christian” with seven
kids back home, sort of Josef Goebbels type. But a total
hypocrite.
The next shock was
when our own Congressman Stadler chose a "male
escort" for the night. (As if we should be surprised?) He wore a tight
military outfit that accented his brawny physique – had Jeff Gannon similarities.
It might be said he was dressed "formally" in keeping with the
"congressional" atmosphere.
As Mark Stadler clasped hands with the escort, he approached us at
the other end of the room asking, "You fellows want to hang out with us at
my place? I've got plenty of beer and videos. Please, join us."
It was more like a
command than an invitation. We sensed another mandatory directive where we were
obligated to comply. Or else.
In a way we were
petrified at what we had just witnessed. Think of the open-ended obligation we
carried. But we weren't surprised in the least. All nine pages happened to be
gay; Stadler knew it before our arrival in DC. His
application process was a ruse where the congressman wormed around the national
selection regimen by investigating our sex lives more in-depth than our high
school transcripts and/or any other facet of our backgrounds, including items essential
for security clearance.
Stadler handed the escort a coat for the trip to
his condo. It was just a brief walk, but Bob and Elizabeth Dole lived two doors
down and would have suffered cardiac arrests had they seen an obvious male
hooker out the window accompanying a well-known Republican congressman and his under-age
page staff.
We arrived at Stadler's lavish condo to find the TV on playing gay-porn. "You
boys relax and get comfortable while I go change. No reason you can't get out
of those damned formal clothes," Stadler cunningly
suggested.
The party can only
be described as more pornographic than the video on screen. Nine
teenage boys (twinks) at a congressman’s residence
with a gay hooker. What would Mom do if she saw me now?" Imagine
the disbelief in that dear old' church-lady's eyes. Probably die of heart
attack. But imagine the congressman’s district discovering this.
Long after, I suffered
a form of post-traumatic stress. The "party" was indescribable and can
only be classified as hyper-scandalous – so unbelievable, the media would
have been reluctant to expose even if corroborated.
The next Monday,
the House was in session and Congressman Stadler took
the floor to announce a proposal to amend a spending bill to include an
unrelated provision restricting hate-crimes legislation aimed at gays. In other
words, he wanted to exclude gays from hate-crime laws. What an absolute
asshole!
Of course, it was
for the audience back home, not what he truly believed. Everything revolved
around photo-ops, nothing was based on conviction or
the basic good of the people. Politicians in Congressman Stadler's circle claimed to be people of principle, of high moral fiber originating from
the Bible – unlike the opposing party which they ridiculed day and night.
Yet, the very ones pointing fingers were the ones most guilty of such behavior they supposedly despised – focusing on proposed
legislation most pleasing to the base. "Men of character" they were
called. Yeah, right. If only their supporters could see them in action at the
Watergate. Nixon’s encounter with the scandalous icon didn’t hold a candle.
It wasn't until 2012
when the truth finally came out about the Watergate parties. They called the
scandal "Pokergate" with a double meaning
– for the bogus poker games and congressmen's "poker" of
prostitutes. Congressman Stadler was implicated along
with several more senators, representatives and top government officials –
all the way up to the RNC Headquarters. In the end, Stadler got off the hook because someone in the White House pulled strings with the
prosecutor from the Justice Department. Yeah, the chickenshit Dems covered for the chickenshit Republicans. Only
those on the president's worst shit-list ever faced prosecution.
Years later after landing
a job in Vegas, I met my former congressman while he was on another business
trip. After serving three terms, Mark was hired as a lobbyist for Citrus Mutual
and was of course hitting his successor up to write legislation beneficial to
his client. But now his annual income ranged in 7-figures vs. 6.
I had heard through
the grapevine that Stadler's wife had discovered him
in bed with a guy at their Lakeland residence. Joann was supposed to be
visiting her parents down in Bartow but arrived home two hours earlier than
expected.
Mark persuaded her
to keep it under wraps so he could complete his term and retire to a more
lucrative job – lobbyist. To save-face and maintain financial security,
she consented to this delicate arrangement.
How do I know all
this? I was well-acquainted with the guy Rep. Stadler was porking that night. Dan was a friend of mine who
was the lead-singer in a well-known gospel group; so, he had to keep his gay
life secret as much as Stadler. They both attended a
fundamentalist mega-church in Lakeland, and if this ever got out, they'd both
be toast. Albeit Holy Toast.
Anyhow, when I met Stadler that night in Vegas, he had no clue I knew his
secret. But for all he knew, I would never violate my non-disclosure agreement. Because if I did, the party was known to hire hitmen. Or arrange "small plane crashes."
I remained silent.
Like the GOP class
of ’94 that came in like a tsunami, the new class of 2010
were packed with young congressmen anxious to change things in
Washington. Except they were of the same mold and held lots
of secrets – like congressional page scandals yet to be uncovered. The beat goes on.