By David Rossie

Where have all the good guys gone?

Depends on who you're asking. If you're asking someone from the Republican National Committee, the answer probably is:

Home.

It also depends on how you define "good guys." Time was when your congressman was a "good guy." His colleagues for the most part were deadbeats, or so we were told, and it was a wonder that they kept on getting re-elected. It never occurred to us that a couple of election districts away people tended to classify our congressman the same way.

Today, pols and pundits tell us a different story. Congress is populated for the most part with hacks who serve the interests of those who pay for services not mentioned in the Constitution or their campaign literature.

I was fortunate over the years to be represented in Congress by men such as Matt McHugh and Sherwood Boehlert. Everyone should have been so lucky, it says here.

I qualify that claim because opinions don't always register as facts in other people's mind. One example: Several years ago, I encountered a childhood friend who had moved away while we were both in high school — he to Boehlert's district, I discovered during our conversation.

When I mentioned that, my old friend shuddered. "Too liberal," he said after recovering from my shocking endorsement. I never asked what had turned this old acquaintance into Tea Party fodder. I didn't want to know.

Still, one has to wonder. Whatever became of compromise? It's not a dirty word, or shouldn't be. It's how bargains are struck by men (and women) of good will to reach agreements that prove, or should prove acceptable and beneficial to both sides on an issue.

Take the Affordable Care Act, or Obamacare if you prefer. It is the law. It is popular with people who have found it useful, so we are told. Yet many politicians who have not tried it and don't want to see it tried are fighting it because they don't like the man who bears its unofficial title.

You might think the opposition would be willing to move on to something else, but you'd be wrong.

Good fellowship is out of season at any level. It's as simple as that. During a recent news program I was watching, the announcer offered the following advice:

"Coming up next," he chortled, "is something you're not going to want to miss." Given the temper of the times, that meant someone was going to be subjected to another person's bad manners at the very least.

Two car commercials and one antacid pitch later, we got what we had been assured was worth waiting for. A newly elected politician somewhere in the Midwest was about to receive a phone call from his vanquished opponent. These calls are usually as brief as they are insincere and then we move on.

In this case, the TV people had been tipped off that a less-than-diplomatic exchange was about to occur. We never got to hear from the loser, however contrite or generous he may have planned to be. Instead the intended recipient unleashed an invective barrage against the poor fellow's character and apparent efforts to mend fences.

He denounced his defeated foe's intentions and character, and added a few insults that he apparently had not included in their election debate. And, for good measure, he pointed out that there would be no future debates should the caller — or would-be caller — try to unseat him two years or four years hence.

How the lambasted loser responded to this invective, we didn't learn. Which is probably just as well. We should not have been subjected to that verbal exercise in the first place. Another network in another time or place would have simply junked the electronic interview and moved on.

The trouble is that these days when they move on to something else, it is usually as bad or worse than whatever it was they might have moved on to, and wherever.

Rossie is the retired associate editor of the Press & Sun-Bulletin. You can contact him at drossret@yahoo.com.