So, the lead singer of one of America's most endearing cult musical groups is on his way to a reunion gig-- their first show together in the better part of a decade. And on the way, he has this little "incident" involving an undercover cop in the men's john at Minneapolis-St. Paul airport. It doesn't make the press at the time, and the group goes on to have their not-so-triumphant reunion at a charity benefit the following day. The singer and his compadres are off key, and the group is down one member anyway. If any (deserved) shouts of "Where's Jim?" come from the audience, history does not record the fact.
Anyway, fast forward two months, and the bathroom incident finally makes the papers. Fans are shocked-- they already know that General John is a religious wackadoodle whose forays into songwriting are truly embarrassing, and they've finally realized that Trent is a bigot (but a cuddly bigot! like Archie Bunker!). But the bathroom-stall footsie business is just so sordid. So pathetic. And so, so, wrong for the image of the Singing Senators.
I always liked Yankee Jim best anyway.