Once upon a time, in a more discreet, reserved America, those who had embarassed themselves with foolish behavior modestly saved their tearful confessions for the proper venue. It’s called the television talk show.

No longer. Now, there is a new forum for wrenching tales of self-inflicted humiliation. It’s called the United States Senate; specifically, the Permanent Subcomittee on Investigations.

Yes, the magazine sweepstakes industry is cheesy. The flood of come-ons, teasers and daydreams is terribly annoying, ocassionally amusing. But to a vast majority of the level-headed public it is always utterly transparent. It is to that minuscule gullible minority that the most august body of lawmakers in the world has devoted the last few days.

To a senator, the committee, led by Maine’s Sen. Susan Collins, is outraged, appalled, aghast. Reader’s Digest, American Family, Publisher’s Clearinghouse and Time have led roughly .00037 percent of the population down the primrose path, past the end of the rainbow, all the way to that land of shattered dreams where 42 concurrent subscriptions to Cat Fancy does not guarantee a house call by Ed McMahon. This calls for legislation.

Luckily, the legislative remedy is quick and easy. No one disputes that the mass-produced personal letters, the bogus telegrams and the rest of the sweepstakes schtick contain the appropriate advisories about the long odds, about no purchase being necessary. The problem that the duped aren’t reading or heeding them.

It’s perfectly understandable that a person, upon receiving a document that appears to be a leaked memo in which two corporate execs discuss rigging the drawing to ensure that said person wins, would be too elated to read on. Such a person no doubt would be in a terrible rush to share the happy news with his good friend the Tooth Fairy.

So let there be at the top of every sweepstakes promotion a standard disclaimer (“Buy something or not. Either way, you probably won’t win”) printed in an easy-to-read government-approved typeface, a mandated federal font. No fancy italics, nothing Gothic, just a good sturdy Helvetica. Perhaps a solid, workaday Courier. In a hearty 12 point. What the heck, make it 14.

And, above all, let the committee never forget the stirring words of member Sen. Carl Levin — “That letter is perfectly a lie, purposely false, purposely misleading, purposely deceptive” — as it assesses the veracity of going-out-of-business ads, vinyl-siding flyers and, of course, political campaign brochures.