Like most successful politicians, state Senate Majority Leader Kelvin Atkinson never met a microphone he didn’t like.

That changed Tuesday when the teary-eyed Democrat choked up on the floor of the Senate as he announced his resignation from office and admitted he’d been caught illegally converting campaign funds to his personal use. Tears appeared to stain his prepared text.

Veteran legislative observers called it a sad day, and it certainly was no trip to Disneyland for Atkinson and his lawmaking allies, but this was no tragedy. A tragedy is a child who goes to bed hungry. This is a political melodrama with a maudlin ending.

Pardon my insensitivity at this difficult time, but it’s always a good day when a slippery politician gets bounced from the gravy train.

Atkinson wasn’t some wide-eyed neophyte who misfiled a disclosure form or failed to declare a lunch with a lobbyist. We’re talking about a fellow who managed to siphon off hundreds of thousands of dollars from his campaign coffers for use as a personal checkbook.

While that’s not Watergate — and Las Vegas political history is littered like a Friday night demolition derby with the wreckage of political corruption cases — it’s not a speeding ticket, either. If Atkinson was going to steal a small fortune in campaign contributions, the least he could do was show some creativity.

Atkinson’s admission comes less than seven months after former Las Vegas City Councilman Ricki Barlow was sentenced to a month in jail and three years of supervised release for accepting kickbacks from campaign vendors and pocketing cash contributions totaling nearly $60,000 during his 2015 re-election run. In the wake of the Barlow sentencing, multiple sources noted that an investigation was ongoing.

Was this it? Will there be more revelations?

Whether the two cases are related hasn’t been made public, but at the very least one difference appears to be in the size of the theft. Attorney Richard Wright represented Barlow and represents Atkinson. Contacted Thursday, he declined to comment.

In an email to The Indy, Wright said Atkinson would plead guilty to a federal misuse of campaign funds charge, a state and federal crime that carries up to a 20-year sentence. The federal sentencing guidelines, however, call for a fraction of that: 27 months on the high end.

We’ll know more Monday when the filing should be available in U.S. District Court, but don’t be surprised or disappointed if Atkinson ends up receiving a few months in jail with commensurate supervised release.

Atkinson’s face plant has generated no small bout of theorizing about what’s wrong with Nevada politics. Is it something in our heavily alkaline water that makes seemingly credible candidates act like Roaring ‘20s racketeers once they get elected? Is the bloom off the rose for the majority Democrats at the Legislature? Has Atkinson, an openly gay legislator, somehow set back the LGBTQ community and agenda?

Come on. Let’s not overthink this.

No matter the complications in an egotistical politician’s personal life, this is the story of a guy who knew the rules and, from the look of his Contributions and Expenses Reports, probably started breaking them several years ago when some big contributions began to pour in. Who knows, maybe he’ll do us a favor and explain it one day.

The news has some complaining that our laughably titled “citizen legislators” — none dare call them “voting lobbyists” — should be paid better or even be made full-time employees for their increasingly complex and time-consuming jobs. Good arguments can be made, but that’s no excuse to treat your campaign account like a personal piggy bank.

Others contend that what Atkinson committed wasn’t really political graft, but a glorified campaign violation. That’s a little like saying a bank embezzler is morally superior to a bank robber. It’s still theft.

Beyond the tearful lament, Atkinson made sense when he spoke about the importance of fighting for basic civil rights and improving schools, among other objectives. The real danger for Democrats, one surely being addressed in real time, is that this embarrassment might distract the majority party from its 2019 objectives. We’ll see.

Here’s where Senator Sticky Fingers showed a sign that his career might not have been one long exercise in political vanity.

“I hope I have the opportunity to prove some day that this is NOT who I am, just something I did wrong,” he said. “One of my friends reminded me the other day that good people can do wrong things, but can still be good people. In the coming years that is exactly what I hope to prove. I just pray that some day I will have the opportunity to contribute to my community once again in a meaningful way.”

It’s a nice thought, but then talking is something he’s always been good at.

John L. Smith is an author and longtime columnist. He was born in Henderson and his family’s Nevada roots go back to 1881. His stories have appeared in Time, Readers Digest, The Daily Beast, Reuters, Ruralite and Desert Companion, among others. He also offers weekly commentary on Nevada Public Radio station KNPR. His newest book—a biography of iconic Nevada civil rights and political leader, Joe Neal—”Westside Slugger: Joe Neal’s Lifelong Fight for Social Justice” is published by University of Nevada Press and is available at Amazon.com. Contact him at [email protected]. On Twitter: @jlnevadasmith