When it comes to politicians, there are show ponies and there are workhorses.
The show ponies have glossy manes and tales, pretty eyes, and elegant legs.
The workhorses look like they could haul beer trucks.
The analogy to politicians is of course limited. Some of them both look good and work hard, although the harder they work the more disheveled most of them tend to look. And some both look bad and slack off.
And then there are politicians who may be, perhaps, on the short side. Might even be very short. And not particularly glamorous. And no longer young.
But you talk to a politician like that, and you realize that you’re in the middle of a conversation, not on the receiving end of a monologue.
And soon, when you listen, you realize that you are talking to a actual public servant. Someone who actually takes the job of public service — of working not for personal glory but for the common good — seriously.
That brings us to Loretta Weinberg.
Ms. Weinberg is guided by a her moral compass — according to Steven Goldstein, she has an extraordinarily, almost preternaturally strong one — and by Jewish values, but she does not let that compass lead her in the direction of self-righteousness or self-seriousness. She is not ponderous or pompous.
It’s astonishing how many people know her. She gets around. She’s approachable. She’s also absolutely formidable, but you can’t necessarily tell that. She tells stories. She laughs. She makes friends, and she keeps them.
She entered politics to be of service, she made the world better, and we all are better for it. And we will miss her.
Thank you, Loretta, for everything you’ve done for all of us. We wish you the very best, the very happiest, the most rewarding of retirements.