My morose fascination with the Central Iowa Employment and Training Consortium pay scandal has probably stolen too much of my time. If I wanted to put a good face on it, I’d tell you I’ve been intrigued with it because I think it’s a crime – if not in the legal sense of the word, at least metaphorically – for public servants to turn away down-and-out folks who need training to get a decent jobs while becoming fatted cows on significant six-figure salaries. And I wouldn’t be lying. Except possibly by omission. The complete truth is that my fixation with the CIETC affair has left me feeling a little voyeuristic.

I’m surprised by this. I honestly don’t care a whit about Tom Cruise, Katie Holmes, their love child and what or who they might sacrifice in a secret ceremony on the altar of the Church of Scientology. Someone needs to remind me again why I am supposed to care about them. Michael Jackson’s trial was one freak show I didn’t care to watch. We pick this stuff up by osmosis, regardless of our level of disinterest, just by watching the news.

President Bill Clinton’s impeachment hearing and all the tawdry details leading up to it bored me, too. I probably should have cared about that. However regrettable his proclamation that he “did not have sexual relations with that woman” may have been, I didn’t waste a lot of my mental energy contemplating what went on between him and Monica Lewinsky because I supported his vision for the country. If any public scandal were going to bring out my voyeuristic tendencies, that should have been it.

Why, then, do I care more about whom Ramona Cunningham might have dated or bought watercraft with than I do about the origin of the stain on the White House intern’s dress? Why am I hatching a surreptitious plan to get the DNA samples from all CIETC employees to see who’s related to whom and how many more of Des Moines City Councilman Archie Brooks’ and Polk County Supervisor John Mauro’s relatives are working there?

Am I latching on to it, as if it’s a personal affront, because those behaving badly are local officials I might encounter on the street? Is it because they put a face on what is wrong with society in a way that Tom and Katie, Jacko, and even Bill and Monica never could? Is it because the scandal is increasingly being turned into a partisan fight with lots of finger pointing, when really, it’s just about greed? Or is it because all of this occurred in my back yard and we’re not supposed to have to deal with stuff like this in honest, wholesome, down-to-earth Iowa? Is it because there’s an opportunity for a joke at every new revelation?

For all the jokes about sweet deals, sweethearts and sweet revenge, there’s nothing funny or sweet about the CIETC scandal. It’s a wake-up call to anyone who ever served on the board of directors of any organization receiving public money that the appointment isn’t just something nice to tack on the end of a resumé under the heading of “community service,” but a tough job that, if done well, can help restore public trust or, if done poorly, can continue to erode it.

Like many Iowans, I’m reveling in the outrage. I’m not ready to abandon it, and you shouldn’t either. That’s like giving a welcome embrace to the complacency that allowed this fungus to grow in the first place.