When I was in college, I had a 1974 VW Super Beetle, a car which was three years older than I was. Needless to say, it had problems. The wheels were badly aligned and out of balance, to the point that steering required more luck than skill. The heater worked by pulling hot air off the engine, but it also drew gas fumes and exhaust in, too, so you had to drive with the windows down, even in winter, or risk carbon monoxide poisoning.

And then there was the parking brake.

One night, a friend threw a party at the house of a professor he was housesitting for. It wasn't a riot but it was lively -- a smart people party, and for a moment I felt kinda sophisticated. Grown up, almost. At least until a friend walked in and asked, "Kyle, don't you drive a Bug?"

Yes, I said.

"I think it's in somebody's yard," he said.

That feeling I had right then -- it's the same one I had last week when people started saying to me, "Hey, look, your 'Alabamafication of America' is becoming a thing."

It's the same dread I had when Jeff Sessions swore an oath to be America's new top prosecutor.

And it's the same nausea I had Wednesday night, when the Washington Post let loose its latest scoop, that Sessions had lied multiple times to the United States Senate when during his confirmation hearings he had said he had no contact with Russian government officials.

The corruption of Alabama politics has broken loose from its handbrake and is now tearing havoc through America's yard.

Last summer, when Alabama completed its Unholy Trinity of political scandals, I wrote a warning to our fellow countrymen: Don't let this happen to you. I meant to sound an alarm against the Alabamification of America (a phrase which Drew Pendergrast at the Harvard Political Review last week took a lot further than I had).

At the time, our governor was under investigation (he still is) for abusing his office while pursuing a love affair. Were he to be impeached, that state House proceeding would have been led by a speaker then under indictment (now convicted and gone) and the trial in the Senate that followed would be led by a Alabama Supreme Court chief justice who was likely to be removed from office, again, by the Court of the Judiciary (he was and is now gone, at least until he runs for Senate).

At the heart of it, the Alabama Problem is a simple one to explain: When the majority party fails to hold its own to the same -- or preferably, higher -- standards it holds the opposite party, corruption and incompetence are inevitable. And when citizens treat their respective parties with the same reverence as college football teams and they excuse away the sins of their politicians like recruiting violations or so many $100 handshakes, they give those officials license to lie, cheat and steal.

For such a long time, the corruption of Alabama politics was something we thought we had under control, or at least, contained. Our graft, buffoonery and ineptitude had become a Dixie Ouroboros, too busy eating itself to hurt anyone else. Or so it seemed. But then the slimy serpent of Alabama corruption unclenched its fangs from its own backside and slithered to more hearty climates in the Washington swamp it now calls home.

Before, Alabamians could feel safe, because no matter what dunderheaded blunder our Goat Hill lawmakers thought up, the federal government would swoop in and set things straight again. Justice Department prosecutors, federal grand juries and United States District Courts are the only reasons this state is still standing.

But that has changed.

Sessions is America's top prosecutor now. Sessions' former communications director, Stephen Miller, whispers in the president's ear, and Mike Hubbard's favorite blogger, Cliff Sims, now works in the White House communications office.

In Trump's America, the federal government doesn't tell Alabama what to do. Alabama tells the federal government what to do.

While Sessions wields the federal government's wrecking ball, he's much more likely to bring it down on pot smokers in Colorado or bad hombres in the barrio than on his sweet home, Alabama.

He certainly isn't going to swing it at his boss over any of that Russia stuff.

And now that the Post has revealed that Sessions met with the Russian ambassador then lied to the Senate about having contact with Russian officials?

It seems we need a new special prosecutor to investigate our new top prosecutor who won't investigate his boss for having contact with the Russians because he also had contact with the Russians ...

Is this sort of thing beginning to sound familiar?

America, you've been Alabamafied. That's our car in your yard.

The White House Rose Garden will never look the same again, you say? Well, OK, but we promise, if it's possible, we will fix this. That garden wall between church and state is demolished? We're friends with a guy who knows a guy who does brickwork. Those hedges between three branches of government? We know how to garden. We have insurance. We can make this right ...

That's the mea culpa we could say. That's what we should say.

But more likely we'll do what I did that night in college: Sneaking like a ninja across a dark and mangled yard, watching the porch light like it's the guardhouse in a prison break, quietly pushing the old jalopy back over broken sod and across the curb.

Do we feel regret? Yes. Shame? Absolutely. But will we do the right thing, march up on that porch, knock on that door, explain what happened and at least say we're sorry?

We'll think about it, perhaps for a half second, before turning the ignition, disappearing into the night and leaving our mess behind.

Good luck with that, America. We were never here.