Who needs the media?

. . . when you’ve got not only New York City cab drivers, but also friends who work for the White House?

I’ll get back to my latest taxi conversation — along with a video from Pinky & The Brain, and a plea for an environmental VETO by Governor Cuomo — but first, my White House insider’s report.

So, Friday I was texting my friend who works for the Executive Office of the President. We’ll call this friend “X.” X has been through a few different administrations, in what I’ll call a production job. X’s office is a few blocks from the West Wing, but X works for the President. That is, if the current President would get it together enough to put X and colleagues to work. Talk about your human waste.

Here’s our conversation, starting with X answering my question: “How it’s going down there in DC?”


Wave to your tax dollars, everybody! People you’re paying for are patiently waiting for the Transition Team to give them something to do!

It’s nice having a good friend like X. I’ve seen the Oval Office (during Obama’s time), and even sat in the President’s box at the ballet once. POTUS and FLOTUS were out of town that weekend, but talk about cool!! I remember when X and I stepped into the box from the Presidential private lounge (stocked with champagne and M&Ms), and all heads turned to look at us. And then turned away, unimpressed.

Anyhoo, on to my next topic. I got some nice feedback on my last taxicab political chat, so I thought I’d share a new one. (more…)

Welcome to the End of the World

trump-der-spiegelI had an interesting conversation last week with a cab driver, pre-Inauguration. He was listening to the news on NPR — cab drivers I engage with always seem to be as politically frustrated as I am, probably because they’re foreign and have a broader perspective. I learn a lot from them.

This one was wearing a cream-colored knit skullcap, and had moved here from Pakistan 26 years ago. He’d turned the radio down when I’d gotten into the cab, and I’d asked him to turn it back up. After we’d listened to the latest logic-defying Trump move (might’ve been his meeting to discuss Housing and Urban Development with the host of “Family Feud” — but more likely was Trump’s views on Muslims), I saw the driver shake his head.

“I know, it’s crazy, right?” I said from the backseat. My driver replied, “We are going to be in third world war in a year.”

“I’ve said that exact same thing for months,” I told him.

And then he explained Armageddon to me. “Christians and Jews call it ‘Armageddon,’ but Muslims call it ‘Har-Meggido.’ Meggido is an ancient town on the way between Egypt and Syria. In 1400 [BC, I assume], a Muslim prophet said a war will start there that will kill one-third of all people.”

I blinked. “Wow. Sounds . . . realistic. Given what’s been happening, and what’s possible. But Trump’s son-in-law will make it all okay in the Middle East. ‘Cause he’s Jewish and he went to Harvard after his father gave them $2.5 million.” Yeah, I didn’t say the last part out loud. But I’m sure the cab driver would’ve gotten my humor.  Read More…

“I’m Donald Trump, and I’m a love addict.”

That’s how Trump should start each speech he’s making on his current Victory Tour.

Like any addict, he needs to admit his powerlessness over his never-ending need for adoration. To get honest about his compulsion to say whatever gets the loudest cheer from the biggest crowd (which got him elected). To come clean about his soul-twisting compulsion for sending midnight tweets about how Alec Baldwin’s impression of him “can’t get any worse” on the “unwatchable” Saturday Night Live. While he’s watching it.


Um, not that I know anything about that. About seeking affirmation . . . or lingering on FB for “just one more” like. Trying to fill the hole left open by well-intentioned parents who could have praised a little girl in addition to “helpfully” pointing out the problems. Staying in a relationship (or two) past its expiration date, hoping for the magic to return. I mean, I’ve just heard about it “from a friend.”

But if I compare whatever affirmation-seeking tendencies I have with those that Trump displays without batting an orange-tinted eyelash[1], then I look like Miss Self-Esteem 2017. (Read the first ten minutes of the meeting with the New York Times Trump had two weeks ago, the transcript of which I devoured at the time[2]. His parents must’ve done some whammy on him.)

By the by, for this post I’m writing little footnotes — but you can jump right back up after you read ’em. Fancy!

Oh, and I forgot, Trump’s not calling it a Victory Tour anymore; he’s calling it a Thank You Tour.

Unfortunately, since telling whoever’s standing in front of him whatever they want to hear is what got the bastard[3] elected, he’s not even close to hitting bottom, so recovery from his addiction is nowhere near. Meanwhile I’m loving the opening lines of his first post-election rally, held in Ohio last week, because they so completely hit his own nail on the head:  Read More…