"Ich bin ein horny"

Another week, another New England icon embarrassed by public declarations of a mouthy intimate.

But enough about Tommi and Gisele.

As I see it, we need a constitutional amendment that says White House interns must be at least three years older than the presidents they serve.

I guess my first thought was I was glad Mimi wasn’t our Nana. I don’t know how I’d explain to her granddaughters why Nana was telling Meredith Vieira about the time Calvin Coolidge deflowered her virtue. My skin vicariously crawled for the whole Alford family.

As a student of history, I usually like randy declarations from old lovers that shed new light on powerful men and women.

For instance, I was thrilled to learn that Charles Kuralt, the CBS “On the Road” correspondent, had a weekend wife in Montana that no one knew about until his star-spangled death July 4, 1997. This beloved American icon had for nearly three decades kept a shadow family in Montana, which kind of made him a polygamist with frequent flyer miles.

The Mimi Alford news about John F. Kennedy doesn’t shed new light on him. It sheds new lava light on him.

Most of us were willing to overlook knowledge he was a real player. We knew he’d slept with Marilyn Monroe, the gangster babe and scores of others beehive haired honeys. Most men would forsake their sacred vows for a romp with Marilyn, something every married man and God, even, would likely salute.

Well, every man but Mitt.

But Alford’s story just makes Kennedy seem indelibly creepy. He just comes across as so entitled. And for a Kennedy that’s really saying something!

He got her drunk on daiquiris, stole her virginity an hour later, pushed drugs on her at wild parties, offered to find her an abortion doctor when she thought she was pregnant, and tried to pimp her out to his mates when he thought the boys needed relaxing.

This isn’t what we expect from the leader of the free world, circa, 1964.

This is what we expect from the leader of the Rolling Stones, circa 1964.

I’ve never been one to deify Kennedy. To me, he’s the Democrats answer to Ronald Reagan. Both are overrated because they’re inspirational communicators and Kennedy’s reputation is further elevated by national tragedy.

Admirers like to wonder what would have happened had it not all ended so tragically in Dallas.

Would he have pulled us out of Vietnam? Would he have sought common sense detente with the Soviets? What would the crucible of the Cold War White House done to this vibrant young man?

Here’s what I now think would have happened.

He would have accelerated the ‘60s. He’d have gone to Woodstock and smoked pot on stage with Jimi Hendrix. He’d have alienated the country by leaving Jackie to live communally with a harem of California runaways. We’d never have heard of Charles Manson because the acid kids would have all flocked to Kennedy instead.

The man was a hippie waiting to happen.

I’ve long contended so many men are pigs because so many women are sheep.

But 19-year-old Alford isn’t 22-year-old Monica Lewinsky in 1995 flashing her underwear at Bill Clinton, a provocation that when it comes to that man’s appetites seems tantamount to entrapment.

This reads like rape. Date rape, certainly.

I think it’s important that Alford came forward. She had essential information about one of the most revered and studied men in American history.

Historians and scholars will want to dig into these revelations and layer them onto what we already knew about Kennedy.

I’d advise them to all wear rubber gloves.