An Abuse of Power and Position

In April 2013, actress Reese Witherspoon and her husband, talent agent Jim Toth, were pulled over by a Georgia state trooper after the officer observed Toth driving erratically. The trooper described Toth as having “droopy eyelids and watery, bloodshot eyes”, adding that he “smelled strongly of alcohol.”

Sounds like a DUI to me and any other law-abiding citizen, but apparently not to Ms. Witherspoon. Exiting the vehicle against the officer’s instructions, she repeatedly berated him, hollering, “Do you know my name? You’re about to find out who I am… you’re about to be on national news.”

Actually, Reese, the officer never made national news as his identity remained secret, but the tabloids had a field day splashing your callous remarks – and your husband’s mug shot – across their front pages.

Ms. Witherspoon quickly issued a public apology as her PR team went into full damage control mode. Reese said she was “deeply embarrassed” and acknowledged that she had had “one drink too many.” She also admitted that her actions were disrespectful to the officer and claimed that her words did not reflect her true character. Witherspoon also expressed her deep respect and appreciation for law enforcement.

Sure… OK… I guess we all make mistakes. Unfortunately, this “Do you know my name?” defense is being employed by a growing number of celebrities – and now officeholders – to the point where it has become a national (and very nauseating) epidemic.

Actors Alec Baldwin and Shia LaBeouf have tried it and so have singers Zach Bryan and Justin Timberlake. Shame on them all. Comically, the arresting officers in some of these cases truly didn’t know who these Hollywood has-beens are (or used to be).

This sense of entitlement and privilege has even crept into the world of sports where Tiger Woods allegedly placed a call to President Trump when he was pulled over for his latest DUI, obviously hoping that he could pull some strings.

Not cool, Tiger. In fact, pretty darn lame if you ask me.

The same goes for Bryson DeChambeau, who reportedly threatened to phone President Trump from Royal Birkdale, the site of the 154th Open Championship, when he was assessed a two-stroke penalty during the second round. I guess Bryson was thinking about the phone call President Trump made during the World Cup to get a red card against U.S. men’s national team member Folarin Balogun overturned. Either way, it came across as a completely childish stunt… and the two-stroke penalty for improving his lie stuck.

I suppose in some ways we can expect actors, singers, and professional athletes to act like a bunch of prima donnas because everyone pampers them – from their fans to their entourages – but I still find it sickening. However, what bothers me even more is when officeholders, who are supposed to be public servants, play the “Do you know my name?” card.

Such was the case recently in New Hampshire when state representative Ellen Read, a Democrat from Newmarket, was cited not once, but twice for excessive speeding. And when I say excessive, I mean excessive. In December 2024, Ms. Read was clocked driving more than 100 miles per hour on Interstate 93 in Windham; and in June 2025, she was accused of driving 92-mph in a 65-mph zone in Londonderry.

Her defense? Ms. Read says that in both instances, she was on her way to or from the state capital and that under an obscure and nearly 250-year-old law, it is illegal for any state legislator to be “arrested, or held to bail” while traveling to, attending, or returning from legislative sessions.

Ms. Read’s lawyers contended that, “Under the plain language of the New Hampshire Constitution, defendant was unlawfully detained/seized/arrested in violation of her Legislative privilege” and therefore “All evidence illegally obtained should be suppressed, and the charge dismissed.”

Legislative privilege? Who on earth does this lady think she is? I mean, we fought a revolution to rid ourselves of a monarchy, didn’t we?

Thankfully, a judge rejected Read’s faulty argument and court records show that she was ultimately convicted of negligent driving, ordered to pay a $1,240 fine with part of the penalty deferred, and required to complete a safe-driving course while avoiding further moving violations. So far, the New Hampshire Supreme Court has declined to take up her appeal.

Unfortunately, Ms. Read’s case is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to politicians and privilege… and it you think things are bad in Concord, New Hampshire, just imagine how much worse they are inside the Washington Beltway.

Franking privileges – basically, the ability to send free mail to your constituents telling them what a great job you are doing – is just one of the countless perks that congressmen and senators enjoy. Then, of course, there is their top-of-the line health care coverage and their lavish federal pensions that they qualify for after just five years of service. Full benefits based on 80% of their three highest salaries are typically available at age 62.

On top of that, all members of Congress are granted free parking at all Washington area airports as well as travel reimbursements back to their home districts. They are also reimbursed for international travel “for diplomatic or research purposes.”

What a life!

In-house gym, swimming pool, and tennis courts? Check! The list goes on and on… and so does the bill, footed entirely by the American taxpayers.

I mean the American suckers.

Harry Truman has been credited with saying either “You can’t get rich in politics unless you’re a crook” or “Show me a man that gets rich by being a politician, and I’ll show you a crook.” Both quotes are actually paraphrases from a 1954 diary entry that read, “An honest public servant can't become rich in politics. He can only attain greatness and satisfaction by service.”

In an ideal world, Harry would be right, but we don’t live in an ideal world. And so, politicians who claim to go to Concord or Washington to serve their constituents all too often wind up serving themselves instead.

Now don’t get me wrong. I don’t begrudge people like West Virgina Sen. Jim Justice, who came into office with a net worth of $1.3 billion or Rep. Jefferson Shreve of Indiana, whose net worth soared this year because he sold his storage unit company for $590 million. However, people like former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, whose personal fortune has increased exponentially since she was elected to Congress in 1986, make me sick. Nancy and her husband Paul had a net worth of $3 million when she first came to Washington and somehow, they have parlayed that seed money into a nest egg estimated to be as high as $400 million.

In case you’re wondering, that’s a 13,000% increase, far outpacing the Dow Jones Industrial Average, the S&P 500, or any other financial metric. In fact, there is now an app that tracks Nancy Pelosi’s investments so you, too, can learn how to use insider information to your advantage.

As if her insatiable greed wasn’t enough, add hypocrisy and a large dose of cynicism to Nancy’s swan song as she prepares to exit Congress after 40 years in office. The aptly named PELOSI Act that was introduced in the Senate earlier this year would ban members of Congress and their spouses from trading individual stocks. The bill advanced out of committee in July and is currently awaiting a full vote on the Senate floor, where it faces uncertain prospects amid partisan disagreements over enforcement mechanisms and exemptions for blind trusts.

With a wink and a wave, Nancy is actually supporting her namesake bill in a move her critics call "pulling the ladder up behind you." In other words, she got hers, so the heck with the rest of you peasants and other working-class stiffs.

Let them eat cake!

Reminds me of her infamous hairdresser’s appointment at the height of the Covid lockdown in California, a mandate that fellow Democrat Gavin Newsom also defied so he could dine in luxury and elegance at the French Laundry, a three-star Michelin restaurant in Yountville.

Rules and restrictions for thee, but not for me.

Now be a dear and pass the caviar and the pate de foie gras, if you would please. And yes, I’ll take another glass of Mouton-Rothschild 1945 or perhaps some Chateau Cheval Blanc 1947.

After all, position and power have their perks and privileges.