Who among us would like to have their high school yearbooks used as evidence against them in a confirmation hearing? I, for one, am thinking of burning mine after watching Sen. Leahy question Brett Kavanaugh.

As he had blow-ups of pages from Kavanaugh’s yearbook as props, he asked Kavanaugh, “Does this reflect who you are?”

Over and over and over again he asked him, and my thoughts turned to my own high school yearbook and if I would want that used against me in a procedure like this. Fortunately in the printed yearbook there aren’t descriptions of parties like there were in Kavanaugh’s, and we didn’t have the opportunity to do our own quotes. But if they were to get ahold of my personal copies and read what people wrote – yikes! I recalled some graphic things male friends wrote or drew in my yearbook just to yank my chain, things that absolutely never happened. In fact, one of those friends died earlier this year. After his funeral, talking with his older brother and sharing stories, I said, “You know, Matt is the reason that none of my yearbooks can ever be seen by anybody, ever.” And we all laughed.

That seemed so far-fetched at the time, but now it doesn’t.

Finally, after Grassley stepped in and made Leahy pipe down so the judge could answer, Kavanaugh said:

“The yearbook, as I said in my opening statement, was something where the students and editors made a decision to treat some of it as farce, and some of it as exaggeration, some of it’s celebrating the things that don’t reflect things that were really the central part of our school.

“You know, if we’re gonna sit here and talk about whether a Supreme Court nomination should be based on a high school yearbook page, I think that’s taking us to a new level of absurdity.”

As Leahy’s time ran out, he commented, “We had a filibuster, but not a single answer.”

Well, that’s similar to the Democrats’ relationship with the facts.  We get lots of filibuster from them, but not a single fact.