Before he knew about the Peterson-Romer deal, Carpenter had shared his feelings about surveillance with the Post: "The people of Colorado and Americans need to be very concerned when you have secret stalking and surveillance of public officials. That seems to me to send a bad signal about our democracy."
Pucker up.
Here's how Peterson remembers it: "I was working for a client, and he asked me to check out" rumors that Westword was doing a story on the Romer/Thornberry relationship. And so, at his still-unnamed client's behest, Peterson went to Romer and asked about the rumors. "He told me point-blank there was nothing to it. He said, 'Pete, you know I'm a good guy.'" Peterson volunteered to find out what Westword knew, an unpaid job that took him four to six weeks (but could have been accomplished with one call). "Six to eight months later," he says, "I found out that I'd been duped."
No shit, Sherlock.
But Peterson apparently is not alone in holding a grudge against Roy Romer. Someone else wanted to get the goods on the governor--wanted it so much, in fact, that he or she authorized surveillance of Romer in 1995--surveillance that resulted in the tape cited in Insight.
Yes, there was a second shooter.
"I think that's a good possibility," Peterson concedes. "I think something else was going on. I've seen some anonymous material, heard a tape."
And while Jamie Dettmer, senior editor of Insight, will not reveal the source of the tapes, he confirms that it was not Peterson. The leaking of the videotapes was a bipartisan effort, he says, one involving both Republicans and Democrats back in Colorado.
Who were they? Fingers have been pointed at Clifford May, former News editor who's now communications head of the Republican National Committee; he denies it. And at Bruce Benson, who's not saying much but is clearly enjoying Romer's predicament. And at Senator Ben Nighthorse Campbell, who switched from the Democratic to the Republican party in early 1995 and might have faced Romer had the governor made a run for the Senate in 1996. Campbell's saying plenty, but nothing about the videotape. And fingers are even pointing at the law firm of Brownstein, Hyatt, Farber & Strickland, home of Tom Strickland, who did run for Senate in 1996--but with Roy's son Chris as his campaign manager. "I would normally say it doesn't dignify a response," says longtime Romer supporter Steve Farber, "but I'll say it's ridiculous."
And the best rumor of all: that the videotapes were leaked by the White House, to distract attention from Bill Clinton.
Such a reward for loyalty. But if that was the plan, it didn't work very well, did it?
Dettmer doesn't understand why Colorado is so focused on who did the surveillance rather than on what Romer did--and continues to do, since the governor has said he plans to carry on with his "affectionate" relationship, "a very fulfilling and, I felt, an honorable and beautiful relationship."
In another time, Romer would probably have to step down from the DNC (Thornberry resigned from there last fall and is now at HUD). But there's never been a time like this one. Because if Romer were to step down over a long-term, meaningful relationship, wouldn't Clinton have to resign over a short-term, meaningless blow job?
Then again, since every new accusation against Clinton only increases his approval rating, Roy Romer might as well tell all.
The Body Politic
When Westword broke "The Rumor About Romer" in 1990, Romer got to play the victim--and Westword was the villain. At the urging of Continental Airlines, whose local consultant was a good pal of the governor's, Westword was dumped as the sponsor of the Denver International Film Festival. (Continental itself, of course, abandoned Denver altogether a few years later.)
Most of the media coverage consisted of beating up on Westword for presuming to write about the private life of a public official--even though he was sharing that life with another person on the state payroll. One of the oddest story lines was suggested by Romer himself, at that first press conference. Was such scrutiny the price women had to pay for becoming successful in politics, in business? All too often, women in the workplace were judged not on their talents, but "on the fact that they are female."
But if Romer's ever been in a six-minute liplock with a male staffer, then he has a stronger position on same-sex marriages than he's let on.
Last fall Romer complained that the reporters inside the Beltway (isn't that an apt word?) who kept quizzing him about those pesky DNC donations, weren't as nice as the media folks back home.
But the local press isn't feeling so charitable toward him today. Their pal has played fast and loose with the truth. He's lied to them. And for a while, other politicians may pay the price in increased attention to their personal lives.
"Where do we draw the line?" frets Representative Diana DeGette.
Here's a simple pecking order:
The line is drawn at a politician authorizing surveillance of a newspaper.
The line is drawn at a politician who maintains an affectionate, sleep-over relationship with someone on the payroll. Even if that relationship is just fine and dandy with the politician's spouse, even if that relationship never goes beyond smooching and cuddling, it smacks of cronyism.
Politicians should stick to kissing babies.
