VA Inspector General Cheryl Mason: Today’s Lying Spendthrift

Wouldn’t you know it—Cheryl Mason graduated with a BS degree from Ohio Northern University in Ada, Ohio. She then went on to pursue one of the most revered and integrity-ridden professions known to mankind: she became a lawyer. Clearly, she was destined for public service—or at least a very comfortable seat at the public trough.

Cheryl has had her snout firmly planted in that trough for roughly thirty years. Apparently, no self-respecting law firm in the greater Omaha area was prepared to offer her the sort of compensation she could find in government service. Tough break for Omaha’s legal community.

For the past twenty-plus years, Cheryl’s government career has been with the Department of Veterans Affairs.

On a personal note, I’m a disabled veteran who previously served in a war zone. I’ve also received medical care from VA facilities in Ann Arbor, Cleveland, Columbus, Toledo, Sacramento, and Wichita. So, after roughly 55 years of experience with the VA system, I’d like to think I have at least a passing familiarity with how the place operates.

With that nostalgic trip down VA memory lane out of the way, let’s get back to Cheryl’s alleged spendthrift conduct.

Apparently, before Cheryl was advised that she would be moving to a new office, the move was stalled for several months because of her rather unusual demand for an en-suite bathroom.

For those unfamiliar with the term, an en-suite bathroom is generally considered a private bathroom attached directly to a bedroom or office. Naturally, that raises the question: What exactly does the Army consider a bathroom?

Typical En-Suite Features and Fixtures

• Sink, shower, toilet, and possibly a bathtub.
• Mirrors and storage areas.
• Lighting designed for grooming and comfort.
• Privacy—a feature apparently worth fighting for when the taxpayers are footing the bill.

Luxury Features of an Army Bathroom at Fort Riley, Kansas

• Stainless-steel trough for urinating.
• The pleasure of peeing alongside your compatriots.
• The delight of taking a dump in an open stall.
• The gratification of showering with ten other guys.
• And, of course, that refreshing aromatic perfume wafting throughout the facility.

Ah, luxury.

After reports surfaced that taxpayers might be on the hook for $5,000 or more for Cheryl’s en-suite bathroom, Cheryl apparently offered the following explanation in defense of her security concerns:

“People are at their most vulnerable moment.”

Did you get that, boys and girls?

According to Cheryl, the bathroom is where people—meaning you, me, and everyone else paying the bills—are at their most vulnerable.

I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.

Personally, the only vulnerability I can remember was a friend’s experience in a bathroom involving an overcharged bidet—or, more commonly, running out of toilet paper when nobody else was home.

And I suspect I’m not alone.

So apparently, after decades of military service, VA patients, taxpayers, and ordinary Americans managing to survive bathrooms without executive-level security accommodations, we’ve finally discovered the real national security threat:

Public bathrooms.

Who knew the porcelain throne required a security clearance?