The David Letterman scandal cast a little bit of a pall on my latest staff meeting. I am not trying to suggest that a very minor celebrity like a St. Louis newspaper columnist is in any way comparable to a big national television star like Letterman, but I have been around long enough to know that all things start on the coasts and work their way inland.

For instance, when I was growing up in Chicago, a kid moved into the neighborhood from California. He wore blue sneakers. How we laughed at him. Everybody knew sneakers were black or white. Within a year, we were all wearing blue sneakers.

Now when I see anything new on either coast — even a new type of scandal — I figure it will soon be arriving in the Midwest.

So I began the staff meeting by asking a question. "Has anybody come around in the last few days asking questions about me? About us?"

I looked closely at the staff and saw only puzzled looks on their lovely faces.

They're a good crew. Jenna is the receptionist. I believe in the power of first impressions, and Jenna is the first thing you see when you walk into my outer office. She's all big hair and big charm. A big part of her job is dealing with people who come in without an appointment and demand to see me. Often, they're angry. Somehow, she calms them down and convinces them that I'm completely booked for the next few days, but if they'll call next week, she'll do her best to get them on my schedule.

Barbara ("Bambi") is my secretary. That's her voice you hear when you call my number at work. "You have reached the voice mail of Bill McClellan. He is tied up right now. Please leave your name and number, and when he's untied, he'll get back to you."

I also have two research assistants, Sara and Tonia. They're cut from a different cloth, so to speak, than Jenna and Bambi. Sara and Tonia both have some college.

So even though all four of my staffers are young women, it's a diverse group. I am a liberal, and I believe in diversity.

"So nobody's been around asking questions?" I repeated. No response. "Not even casually?" I noticed a hesitant look on Bambi's otherwise serene face.

"Bambi?"

She paused. "Well, I was at McGurk's the other night, and I was sitting at the bar, and a guy asked me what I did for a living, and I said I was your secretary, and he said, 'McClellan has a secretary?' He said it like he thought it was, you know, bizarre."

"That was it, Bambi? He didn't ask if you could type or anything, did he?"

She shook her head. "He just acted, you know, surprised."

Well, fine. I'm used to people acting surprised that I have a huge staff. Like I ought to be answering my own phone like some jackleg reporter with a desk in a corner of the newsroom. The way some of these people act, I'm not even that high on society's totem pole. At least a reporter is dealing with facts. I'm more like a blogger. I'm lucky to have a job, let alone a staff. That's the way they act.

"Anybody else? Anything unusual?" No response.

"All right. Sara, Tonia. What do we have lined up for next week?"

Tonia shuffled some papers. "I've been doing some research on the Roman Polanski case."

I waved my hands. "Stop right there," I said. "Polanski raped a 13-year-old girl. We are not going to defend him."

Tonia smiled. "I'm ahead of you, Chief. I thought you could come out against Polanski. Use his case to attack the Hollywood liberals who have been supporting him. An attack on the Hollywood liberals and Polanski would do wonders for your image. You could point out that while you have defended men who get addicted to pornography, even child pornography, when it comes to actually assaulting children, you are strictly law and order."

That's why I like having staffers with some college.

"Good thinking," I said. "Let's find out what the maximum sentence is, and demand he gets it. Sara?"

"Maybe something on the Letterman story?" she asked.

"People don't want to read about sex and celebrities," I said. "You think that combination is going to sell newspapers? Our readers want something more intellectual."

"I wasn't thinking about sex and celebrities as much as I was thinking about the fantasies of old men," said Sara. "Letterman is over 60, so you probably have a whole bunch of old guys hearing the story about sex with staffers, and thinking, 'Staffers? Plural?' You could do something about sick old men with fantasies."

I shook my head. "I know nothing about that subject."