"Boehner Rents Apartment Owned by Lobbyist in D.C." read the February 8 Page Three headline in the Washington Post, referring to Congressman John A. Boehner (R-Ohio), who became House majority leader last week.

"What a sleaze," you say to your spouse, responsibly reflecting your concern against the culture of corruption before reading further (as intended, a cynic might observe).  "Renting an apartment from a lobbyist?  How low can these people go?"

Well, at least into the basement, the location of Boehner's Capitol Hill apartment, as reading the entire article would inform.  Paying market rate, as the Post's research showed.  To a lobbyist who "does not lobby John Boehner on any issue and has not lobbied him on any issue during the time period in which John has been renting the property," according to a Boehner spokesman.  As an "'excellent tenant' who pays his rent on time," according to the lobbyist's wife.  Who has known and been friends with Congressman Boehner and his wife since the early 1990s.

So what is Boehner doing wrong?  "House members may not accept anything from lobbyists worth more than $50.  If Boehner is paying market-rate rent, it would appear he is not violating that rule," according to the Post.  Note the if, the it would appear.  What the hell does that mean when the Post's own research indicates that Boehner is paying market rate?  Well, maybe his landlord (who is a lobbyist, after all) slipped him granite countertops and stainless steel appliances, taking that basement apartment way above market.  That could happen, we guess, but since the Post, it would appear, went through everyone's underwear drawer for the story, it's highly unlikely.

To be sure, the Post trundles through the lobbyist's clients, his work (carefully noting that his wife serves on his company's advisory board), acts of congress on which Boehner has voted (appropriately, it would appear, as a member of the aforementioned), even gratuitously commenting on how inflation has eroded the value of the minimum wage since last raised in 1997.

In the end, the sum total of the article is the sound of failed gotcha, signifying nothing.  The late, lamented Jerry Seinfeld show went through nine mostly glorious seasons being about nothing.  But that was television.  Journalism is supposed to be about something.  Back in the day, before computers, newspaper articles that didn't pan out were literally spiked on an editor's desk.  Delete buttons are not nearly so demonstrative, but should be used more often, particularly at a newspaper that wants us to understand its "standards."