After fighting a drunken driving charge for nearly nine months, Sheldon Killpack is a big step closer to his day in court.

Killpack, the former Utah Senate majority leader, resigned just before the 2010 Legislature began after being busted for drunken driving. At the time, I thought he had taken the responsible and commendable path, that he would see that he had put himself in the position of posing a terrible danger to others.

Killpack proved me wrong.

Because he had refused a Breathalyzer, the Utah Highway Patrol did a blood test that showed his blood alcohol level at 0.11, well above the 0.08 legal limit. Just for refusing a breath test, his driver license was suspended for 18 months.

Killpack and his attorney, Ed Brass, have been fighting the charges ever since, including asking for a little help with the suspension from his friends at the Utah Attorney General's Office.

On Tuesday, a judge denied Killpack's plea to drop the "failure to stay in lane" count, which stemmed from his inability to stay properly within the lines on the road that night. Had the judge dismissed the charge, the DUI count would have been thrown out, too.

What is galling is that if Killpack had simply accepted that he was driving under the influence and accepted his punishment, this all would have been over a long time ago.

The charges are misdemeanors; drunken driving is a Class B offense with a possible sentence of six months in jail and a fine of up to $1,000. The lane charge is a Class C, with 90 days in jail and a fine of up to $750.

I'm guessing that a lesser being — someone without money or power — would have no choice but to simply do the time and pay the fine.

Not Killpack. He hired Ed Brass, a well-known Salt Lake City defense attorney, who argued in court this week that the U.S. Constitution's Fourth Amendment should have protected his client from the Utah Highway Patrol trooper who arrested him.

That amendment reads in part: "The right of the people to be secure … against unreasonable searches and seizures. ..." Well, if a cop sees a guy in a huge pickup truck wavering on the road late at night, pulls him over and gets treated to a blast of booze breath (I've seen the dash-cam video), then I don't see how it could be argued that the stop was bogus.

As I wrote last January, I've had the same experience. I was stopped, arrested and spent the night as the guest of the San Diego County jail. I hired a lawyer, paid my fine and her fee, and spent three years on probation.

To my mind, it was the best outcome I could have expected. I was still alive, and so were the women in the car with me, and so were the rest of the people on the road that night.

So I wonder why Killpack has been fighting this so hard, even to the point of asking Attorney General Mark Shurtleff to "help [with] the length of his license suspension," according to an e-mail sent by Brass. (Wisely, the A.G.'s deputy said no way.)

What kind of an example might Killpack have set if he acknowledged his potentially deadly mistake?

That an adult with means and intelligence could hold himself to the same standards as he would anyone else?

That he could accept his culpability and do what he expects others to do — own up to what he did wrong? That he is in no way exceptional, but merely a man who made a bad mistake?

And, if he's willing, to take some pride in having done the right thing.

Peg McEntee is a columnist. Reach her at pegmcentee@sltrib.com.