On the matter of certain rumors.

Folks, I want to address something head-on, the way my granddaddy taught me, which was to address things head-on, except for the things you address sideways, of which there are, at present, eleven.

There has been talk. I won't repeat the talk. Partly because to repeat it would dignify it, and partly because my attorney has drawn a small diagram showing what happens to me if I do. So I won't say what the talk is. I'll say I've heard it, I've prayed on it, and I've emerged from that prayer with no memory of the events, the envelope, the second envelope, or the boat.

Let me be clear where I stand, which is where I have stood for many years, and where I will keep standing until roughly forty minutes after my party stands somewhere else. At which point I will have always been there, waving, wondering aloud where you were.

Yes, money changed hands. I want to be transparent, transparency being the cornerstone of the trust between a senator and the voter who has not yet reached page forty of the indictment. Money changed hands. Hands were present. I did not personally count it, because I am not a counter. I am a leader, and a leader delegates the counting to a nephew, and the nephew to a shell, and the shell, God willing, to the Caymans, where the sun is warm and the subpoenas arrive by rowboat.

My opponents call this a scandal. I would remind them that a scandal requires a victim, and I have searched the record thoroughly. The only victim I can locate is me, who now has to explain the boat.

In closing, I thank the good people of Place for their support, their patience, and their touching, decades-long inability to seat a functioning ethics committee. God bless you. God bless Place. And God bless the statute of limitations, which my granddaddy also taught me about, sideways, on a boat.