SIX WEEKS AGO, when I heard that Curt Weldon and Larry Mendte, the dumb and dumber of politics and the media, had taken it upon themselves to negotiate with Moammar Gadhafi, I knew that Christmas had come early.
The very image of these two washed-up wackos traipsing around Tripoli was too good to be true. I could just envision Mendte getting all giddy as they neared the presidential palace: "Curt. That's him! We found him!"
"Uh, Larry, that's just a statue."
"I'm gonna ask him about the Phillies. Give it a local angle . . ."
Neither Weldon nor Mendte got close, of course. Weldon was just being Weldon, a former politician trying to find relevance. As for Mendte, I normally would not waste a word on the former television news anchor for CBS 3. Instead, I would just let him dig deeper into his cone of self-delusion, still thinking that he is important when he is a convicted felon of utter nonimportance.
Unfortunately, as jury selection begins today in the civil trial of former colleague Alycia Lane against him and KYW-TV and parent company CBS on various counts - including defamation and invasion of privacy - he is impossible to ignore.
I should say up front that Alycia Lane, whose career in Philadelphia Mendte basically ruined by infiltrating her private email accounts and then sabotaging her, is a friend of mine. I think she is bright, funny, sassy, loyal and kind. I should also say up front that I think Larry Mendte is a cowardly, conniving criminal with no credibility.
I don't want any confusion.
And during the trial in Common Pleas Court, if anybody listens to Mendte and thinks that what drips from his lizard lips has a single flash of sincerity, they should be ashamed.
The trouble is, I think too many people have forgotten that Mendte is a convicted criminal, pleading guilty in federal court in November 2008 to reading hundreds of her private emails and sentenced to a pathetic six months of house arrest.
Instead, far too much of the media focus has been over the off-camera relationship between the former co-anchors. The more tawdry the supposed details, the greater the sound of smacking reportorial lips.
