RALEIGH – On Monday, when news began circulating throughout North Carolina political circles about the now-ubiquitous YouTube video of Rep. Bob Etheridge, the initial reaction mixed equal parts surprise and curiosity.

The surprise came from the fact that Etheridge is no novice politician. He’s spent decades in the public eye, including stints as a Harnett County commissioner, the powerful appropriations committee chairman in the North Carolina House, the elected state superintendent of public instruction, and longtime congressman from Eastern North Carolina’s 2nd District.

He has been asked tough questions on countless occasions, by aggressive news reporters as well as disgruntled citizens at public hearings and town hall meetings. Heck, he’s even appeared on N.C. Spin. So how in the world did Bob Etheridge end up starring in the most embarrassing political video of June 2010? Did two shrimpy college kids with handheld cameras really intimidate our state’s tallest congressman?

That’s where the curiosity came in. Democrats and Republicans alike speculated about how Etheridge would respond to his sudden, unwelcome notoriety. Would he claim that the tape had been edited to depict an assault that never really happened, or that was in response to some provocation not shown in the edited version? Would he blame Republican dirty-tricksters? Given the fact that the congressman had just left a fundraiser at which adult beverages may have been served, would he pull a Mel Gibson?

None of the above, it turned out. At a hastily organized press conference Monday afternoon, Etheridge simply expressed regret and refused to explain further. “I came today to say I’m sorry,” he said. “I had a long day. It was at the end of the day. All of us have bad days, but that’s no excuse.”

No, it’s really not. It’s not even an explanation. And judging by the video footage itself, footage the congressman declined to dispute, there can’t be a satisfactory one.

Like other public figures, members of Congress have made a choice to subject themselves to public scrutiny and questioning. That doesn’t mean politicians shouldn’t have a reasonable expectation of privacy. But when a member of Congress walks down a public sidewalk on Capitol Hill and is approached by someone with a camera asking questions about public policy, there are just two defensible ways to respond:

Answer the question. You don’t have to stop and give an impromptu press conference. You can continue along your way, while offering the questioner a simple, declarative answer. In this case, Etheridge was asked if he “fully support[ed] the Obama agenda.” He could have said, “I agree with the president on some issues and disagree with him on others.” He could have said, “Not always, but I think he’s trying to help us recover from the Bush recession.” Or he could have said, “I represent the people of Eastern North Carolina – so when the president does something they agree with, I support him.”

It’s really not that hard to come up with a defensible, meaningless political response to a political question. Politicians do it all the time. I’ve seen Etheridge do it many times.

Just walk on by. When confronted with reporters or paparazzi, sober Hollywood stars continue past, their faces frozen in the “I don’t want to be on TMZ” mask that has become standard operation procedure in the New Media Age. Some politicians have always used this tactic, combined with a sudden dramatic inability to hear. Etheridge would have won no badge of courage for walking on by the young videographers in question, but then again he would have remained a politician largely unknown outside of Raleigh and Eastern North Carolina.

Instead, Etheridge has suddenly become notorious as a symbol for an out-of-touch, out-of-control Congress. Never thought that would happen, so you can color me as surprised along with everyone else.

But curious? Not any more, no. Etheridge has no interesting excuse to offer. Turns out, he’s just a jerk.

Hood is president of the John Locke Foundation.