THE story of John Prescott’s sexual indiscretions with a secretary has been an absolute hoot ... on one level.
Suddenly, it was as if Jabba the Hutt had come to life in all his slimey lecherousness.
By the time you read this, Prezza might already have been forced to resign.
The lairy photographs showing our oafish Deputy Prime Minister cavorting with Tracey Temple, first shown in the Daily Mirror, were, of course, highly entertaining (though not, perhaps, for our Deputy Prime Minister’s raven-haired wife, Pauline).
I once mightily upset Pauline, by the way, by reporting that she sent out a taxi to collect a cheese flan and other party nibbles from a deli near her home in Hull, just so the inclement weather wouldn’t play havoc with her hair.
It was an occasion when the Prescotts were entertaining the Blairs to afternoon tea – no doubt a huge strain for all concerned. Fixed rictus grins all round.
In my piece, I also had a bit of fun with Pauline’s supposed working class tastes in food.
I lived in Hull at the time, you see, and was employed as a cheeky monkey columnist on the city’s evening paper.
Now Pauline didn’t see the funny side of my article and got John to complain to my editor, which he did … in very salty language.
I was summoned to the editor’s office and told of what Prescott - always ready to play the bully - had bellowed down the phone to him. It went something like this …
“That f****** Regan is a f****** ****. He’s trying to make a name for himself, the ****, but he is not going to do that at the expense of my Pauline.
“I don’t really mind what he writes about me but he’d better f****** leave Pauline out of it. Do you f****** understand me?”
My editor, to his credit, didn’t tell me off for upsetting a local VIP. Instead he did a passable impersonation of the charmless Prescott in a rage and we both fell about laughing.
What especially amused us was Prescott’s claim that he didn’t mind what I wrote about him. He is notoriously prickly about the press he receives.
Now, as a service to Prezza at this difficult time, I will try to clarify his situation. First, let us affirm that extra-marital affairs are wrong.
They inevitably involve deceit and betrayal and an ethically uncomfortable denial of the marriage vows and all that they mean.
Wedding vows are, after all, among the most solemn pledges any human can make.
But, hey, we are all sinners, and John Prescott, by having an illicit affair with his secretary (and allegedly with other women in the past) proved he is as human and therefore as fallible as any of us.
But he is also in an exalted, powerful and privileged position, which means he should behave with dignity and restraint. Or resign his position.
And let us not waste time being kind about Tracey Temple. The way she assiduously chronicled all the lurid details of the affair proves to me she is a calculating trollop.
When considering these situations, it is a mistake always to see the women as the victims.
Too many women are ready to throw themselves at powerful married men with little concern for the effects such behaviour has on the betrayed wife and family. That is wrong of them.
As for Prescott the sexual predator and swaggering bully, he is now well beyond being a mere national joke.
He should go, if he hasn’t already by the time you read this.
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Pink Elephant wrote...
Women like Tracey Temple give the rest of us a bad name. Women who don't want their affairs public do NOT write about them in their diaries. What a cow! I sincerely hope Mrs Prescott takes the two Jags, the house and anything else that she can. Her dignified silence proves her worth. For the humiliation Jabba's laid on her, traditional justice demands she cut his testicles off, but taking his Jaguars is the modern equivalent! Grrrrrrrr.
Grrrr indeed, Pinky Love - Steve.
Posted by: Pink Elephant | May 2, 2006 4:35 PM