It saddens me to see Patrick so roundly mocked by the media in the wake of his most recent car crash, the accident that propelled him from preferential treatment by Capitol Hill police to his umpteenth stint in rehab. All the expected players have had a good time with Patrick's latest scrape. He's become a parody of himself, another fallen star in the Kennedy family's gloomy night sky.

Kennedy even led Jay Leno, whose tiresomely safe monologues generally glue my eyes shut upon impact, to get a few good zingers in, like: "A lot of people are very upset that Congressman Patrick Kennedy wasn't given a blood alcohol test after his car accident last week. I understand why they didn't do it. It's kind of like giving President Bush the SAT test. What's the point?"

Not bad for Leno, really, but off the mark. Leno, Conan O'Brien and Stephen Colbert all pointed to Kennedy's alcohol intake that night, as did reporters and bloggers and water cooler habitues nationwide. But that assumption could cloud the larger issues his case represents.

Patrick Kennedy is one of the few politicians who's made a career of being honest about his frailties. Given that frankness, I take his denial
of alcohol involvement seriously. Kennedy was disoriented and incoherent. Aren't there other substances that can make one blinky-eyed and swervy?

This week's National Enquirer has a picture of young Patrick, a lime wedged in his mouth like a bite guard, flat on his back while a woman presumably drinks tequila out of his belly button. The headline reads: "Ted Kennedy's Son: How He Landed in Rehab. Shocking Party Photos." Ho-hum. More lazy drunk jokes for Middle America-easy to swallow as a Scotch on the rocks.

If everyone thinks Kennedy's just a drunk, he becomes a buffoon instead of a person who legitimately has a problem, and that doesn't serve him or his constituents. Selfishly, I want him to stand for more, to be the perfect public face of co-morbid disorders: mental illness and substance abuse. As it is now, the U.S. has too few facilities that deal explicitly with dual diagnoses. It would be great if Patrick could get behind that.

Monday's New York Times article on Kennedy acknowledges the work that Kennedy's done to end the stigma of mental illness. But it also repeats the question of whether he'll be able to return to public life, and be effective as a legislator. I find that question somewhat insulting. I'm a person with bipolar disorder who got hooked on prescription meds and went to rehab. That doesn't mean I'm unfit to do my job.

Kennedy's cousin Anthony Shriver told The New York Times, "He was never the guy who hung out with the captain of the football team. He was always the guy who hung out with the guy nobody wanted to hang out with."

That's exactly the kind of person I'd want representing me. I think the body politic would be well-served by someone who has empathy for the little guy.

If Kennedy had an ongoing battle with cancer, diabetes, kidney disease, heart trouble or stroke, he'd be warmly supported. Schoolchildren would send him cards, and fellow lawmakers would wish him a speedy return to Capitol Hill. But mental illness and substance abuse issues always seem like weaknesses to people who don't have them.

Right before he went into rehab, Congressman Kennedy made a brief but typically forthright speech about his plans to get help. He said, "I hope that my openness today and in the past and my acknowledgement that I need help will give others courage to get help if they need it."

Then, after a few more words of thanks, he was almost off the podium when he added a passionate footnote: "And I would like to call once for passage of mental health parity."

If it's true that a community gets the leadership it deserves, maybe people with mental illnesses deserve Patrick Kennedy. And we should be glad that we do.