CASE OF THE PURLOINED SHAKERS

Shakergate stands resolved. The business of the state can continue unabated.

Without a prayer of becoming even a footnote in Missouri history, this incident of petty crime and high-profile punishment had the attribute of making just about everyone look bad.

State Rep. Beth Long looked bad, pleading guilty to a misdemeanor charge of heisting salt and pepper shakers from a Rocheport restaurant, then feigning innocence on the courthouse steps. Other lawmakers at the dinner where the offense took place looked bad, not just for their proximity to the deed but because of suggestions that after-hours horseplay incited the wrongdoing. The lobbyist who sponsored the dinner looked bad, misjudging the desire of the offended party to get her stolen property returned. And the proprietor of the Word of Mouth Cafe looked bad, professing such a love for her salt and pepper shakers that she couldn't settle the matter quietly and preserve some return wining-and-dining business.

Finally, elected representatives in general get something of a black eye, yielding to the public another view of them as arrogant and grabby. In a way, the Shakergate story proved even more degrading than most cases of officeholder avarice, since what was taken was barely worth having. (It depicts an underachieving sort of greed, like a counterfeiter who specializes in one-dollar bills.)

With this case settled, we're pleased to hear the last of the stolen shakers and shaken stealers. At the Word of Mouth, salt and pepper can again be freely sprinkled. State government survives another crisis.