Last week, a "patriot" spewed tobacco juice in Jane Fonda's face at a book signing in Kansas City, Mo. Though intended as a spit-and-run, 54-year-old Michael A. Smith was quickly taken into custody by the event's embarrassed security detail.

Fonda, 67, was signing her best-selling autobiography "My Life So Far" for fans who had waited for hours when Smith did what only a coward would contemplate doing to someone who had no reason to expect such gross incivility.

Things like that aren't supposed to happen in Kansas City, ground zero for Red State America. Somewhere along the line, a Vietnam veteran decided that "Hanoi Jane" was more worthy of his contempt than a government that consistently cuts veterans' benefits while exploiting patriotic fervor.

It makes you wonder how heroic Smith felt when Fonda smiled at him seconds before he fouled her face. "I consider it a debt of honor," Smith told the Kansas City Star while basking in his rapidly depleting 15 minutes of fame. "She spit in our [veterans'] faces for 37 years. It was absolutely worth it. There are a lot of veterans who would love to do what I did."

If true, there are a lot of veterans in need of remedial civics lessons, psychiatric help and a review of what constitutes civilized behavior.

In 1972, a laughing Jane Fonda sat on an anti-aircraft gun in Hanoi, a moment that provided that misguided war with one of its most iconic moments. Of course, the Viet Cong appreciated the kind of propaganda that only a 34-year-old child of Hollywood royalty could deliver. The images from Fonda's ill-considered "fact finding mission" have haunted her since.

Jane Fonda has apologized for what she did in 1972 but has refused to back away from her opposition to the war. And why should she? Opposition to that war wasn't treason. Saying nothing while 58,000 Americans and millions of Vietnamese died was worse than being a one time dupe for Ho Chi Minh's propaganda machine.

Still, Fonda's regret is unequivocal. Those not inclined to let go of their rage until they've heard an apology themselves need only tune into any of her dozens of interviews to promote her bestseller.

She's already soldiered through chats with David Letterman, Larry King, Bill Maher, Charlie Rose, Tim Russert and "60 Minutes." She's scheduled for a trip to Jay Leno's couch on Thursday. A crying jag with Oprah is as inevitable as the sun rising in the east.

In fact, there's nothing more ubiquitous these days than Jane Fonda apologizing. But the more repentant the recently "born again" Christian becomes, the more fury she inspires in those who would prefer she "rot in hell," as Col. David Hunt suggested on Fox's "Hannity & Colmes" last week.

When a colonel feels free to froth at the mouth, it's easy to see why the Michael A. Smiths of the world are emboldened to act out their antisocial impulses. "For a lot of us, the war will never end," Smith said. "And our war with [Jane Fonda] will never end." Smith was 21 when Fonda went to Hanoi, old enough to know that the war was unpopular long before "Barbarella" said it was.

This kind of hatred is as indelible as bleach stains on blue jeans. It's an article of faith for far too many Vietnam veterans who, like the character in a U2 song, find themselves "stuck in a moment" they can't get out of.

Still, Jane Fonda showed more character than her assailant by continuing to sign books after wiping away the tobacco spit. Displaying more mercy than was shown to her, she declined to press charges against the obviously disturbed vet. Given the loss of civility in America, it probably isn't the last time she'll find herself literally turning the other cheek.