Hearing that GL had declared victory broke the monotony of the daily round of meetings and briefings at GL HQ . Perhaps the real work of governing would begin and I could finally say goodbye to my “handler.”
Sam Jones as he referred to himself a paunchy white dude who resembled an elderly Al Pacino and had the same affection for flashy European suits and ties that I seemed to recall from some of his more recent film roles. But despite his flashy appearance his “always up” mood soon began to drag. He would insist on my taking coffee with him in the lounge--a large windowed room that looked out onto Pennsylvania Avenue and hosted a coffee bar serviced by a regular cast of Latina women. The only decoration on the plain office walls were a series of giant TV screens tuned to FOX, OAN and Newsmax. Suitably caffeinated we would we sit back on over stuffed leather chairs and he would lecture me on how I “should feel happy”: about having been selected and how I had “the trust of GL himself “ to “carry out perhaps the most important part of his agenda.” Smiling to himself as he emphasized the “a” sounds in the word “agenda” as if he were describing Christmas presents that soon would be rushing down the chimneys of all loyal GL voters.
He also reminded me that a crack team of op ed writers were going to place my name on some pieces that would find their way into prestigious outlets like the New York Times with my name on them and that I would be expected to go on talk shows to defend these views. I interjected that I needed to see these pieces before the publication and after a lot of hem and hawing conceded the point that if my name was going to appear on them I should see them before they were released. “I guess we can arrange that” he conceded. I would be properly “rehearsed’ for such shows but as a “media personality” I should have no difficulty with responding to the questions.
On the day that the big news of GL’s power grab we were all summoned to the large conference room for the chief of staff in waiting--former Senator Roger Carmack from West Virginia addressed us, wearing a ridiculous red white and blue bow tie and a navy suit that made him look a bit like Matlock with his swept up mane of white hair that framed his oversized red face.
“Ladies and Gentlemen--we have an important announcement today. We will shortly be in government if we get the votes we are expected to get in the House and GL will be elected to his second term and his VP will be my former House colleague Susan Goodall from Alaska if you don’t remember her although how can you forget --he laughed and the crowd of acolytes followed after a slightly awkward pause. . So its going to be an exciting historic day. GL will make a brief speech and then hold a press conference. We will be introducing you all at a separate event to the press --because GL wants to “hit the ground running” unlike in the last term--ready for business. We will emphasize competence and we do this by clarity of message and unity. We will be only as strong as our weakest link and there are no weak links on this team!’
“Are there?” he yelled like someone on speed
We all yelled a loud “No” as if we had rehearsed the cue line.
“You will be pleased to know that you will all be free to leave GL administration building as soon as we have found you accommodation through our real estate service. Some of you asked why we need to do this --why many of you are away from your families at this time and in a top secret location. Its because we find ourselves in a war between truth and lies. It was a democratic victory a victory for democracy and for light and truth over darkness. No one wanted a sick old man to govern these great United Sta”tes. Someone who was AWOL a lot of times. America made the decision--the whole of America made this decision.”
We all cheered but most of us knew that the election had been won by sheer intimidation. GL had sent his shock troops out there to fight and bully their way to the result he wanted just as he had tried to do in January 6. If truth be told, I went along with the Jan 6 lies more out of fear that I would be replaced by someone even more right wing than me. But I knew this gig as a right wing shock jock wasthis election was a farce. Biden for all his many flaws won both the popular vote and the electoral college.
“But while this mayhem was going on we need to make sure we are fit to govern. That’s why you are here. We cannot have you live anywhere--we have secure locations which have been matched with your family needs and will be protected by our security team. If you prefer you can also stay here and enjoy a penthouse suite overlooking the Potomac. You will have one hour to decide. If you are married or listed a significant other they would have been apprised of the available locations. A security officer will direct you to your new accomodation but then you wll be driven back to this location at 5:00 pm for a top secret briefing. No cell phones or other electronic devices will be allowed nor will you be able to take notes.
I looked through the booklet they handed out to us featuring available houses. Most of them were far too large for me and I had no interest in a suburban house with all the yard maintenance. Nor was I interested in prolonging this gig more than the first six months. They were expecting me to live on peanuts compared to what I was making as the radio jock shock but then I thought this might help build up my speaking fees and maybe I could get a spot on one of those Cable channels. While Fox paid more than MSNBC I would be open to presenting an alternative view to those brainwashed libs. .
I worked out in the gym after the morning roll call and sat and watched porn on my laptop. This was my small way of rebelling from the playing of the GL life story on the widescreen TV provided courtesy of GL HQ. I am sure the GL officials were all surveilling me and my screen and not the favored propaganda channel. GL was relentless with the self promotion and there was a limit to what I could take so I muted the GL video and amused myself in the oversized bed of one of the happy maidens who were welcoming their lesbian friends to join them for a roll in the hay. But if truth be told both screens had their dull moments so I switched back and forth between the two. There were the usual shots of GL with a golden shovel digging the foundation of some skyscraper or other, throwing out a baseball or swinging a golf club or watching a wrestling match alongside some fat Las Vegas celebrity artist. Intercut were a few glimpses of him looking like he was reading or waving a flag at a sports event. The idea was that GL was what modern American man could aspire to if equipped with several million dollars and a lot of nerve. I had known GL as he was coming up personally and he wasn’t anything anyone should try to aspire to. He was as shallow as a puddle after a ten minute shower of rain. He was also creepy always wanting to know whether I had a daughter for him to meet. Yes I had a daughter but I was not going to have him within ten feet of her. He wanted to know how much I got paid as a radio jock. I lied thinking a job offer was coming my way exaggerating the figure by ten fold.
“That’s not much” he replied.
“That was the top for the industry” I snorted
“Well maybe time for me to buy one of those stations out and start a radio station of my own”
He was always in the bragging mode. An insecure and rather weak guy who was constantly on his guard lest you saw through him which I did immediately but not too many others seem to be able to pierce the baloney smeared cover.
We met on and off over the years sometimes for lunch in Columbus Ohio when he was passing through sometimes for a round of golf when he had some special favor to ask of me usually related to wanting me to promote some candidate or other by giving them a spot on my show or otherwise testing a new message about a new policy he was thinking of floating. The one that worked the best and got him excited about me being his INS director was the message that I unfortunately now regret. I remember it was hole 15 on his own New Jersey course that he first broached it.
“Our people have been doing some research--they think we need to reverse the whole immigrant story in this country--the idea that people coming here are all great citizens and builders and contributors--you know the typical American BS story”
“Not BS GL its the story of your family--didn’t they come from Austria or somewhere? Its the story of my family --came in from Poland --Jewish escaping the Russians--they wanted any Jewish boy to get conscripted into the army. The Tsar needed manpower to fight off the European powers.”
“Can understand that--when they are all coming for you and you got no money to pay the troops”
He said trying his best to miss the point.
“Well anyway as I was saying. Suppose we said these immigrants are fresh out of jails--they are pederasts, criminals and rapists --that as they like to say “changes the narrative” He smiled at me as finally bogeyed his put after five attempts thinking I had not been looking.
“I don’t know GL it seems to me inflammatory--it will upset people.”
“That’s the fucking point Ross—to own the libs you got to make them mad at you because that delights my base. My base want the red meat. I channel the hate they feel but until I came along could never express.” He said moving into a more articulate self aware mode for a brief moment.
“What you have to say is that its these governments that are sending their worst people not like it was before --when the brightest people like my grandfather and yours escaped poverty for a better life or in your family’s case conscription.. I think they will buy that --
“It was not only conscription they wanted us killed and our communities burned to the ground. But I take your general point GL --that’s worth a try I suppose.” I said but being the toady I was I added
“I will try it on the show tomorrow. With 3.5 million listeners.”
“That many?” He sounded surprised and began to give off his goofy how good can it get smiles.
“Yes ratings are going up with the promise of your announcement --I will call you if you like and tell you how it goes” I told you I am expert at toadying
The rest dear reader is history. It tried it out on the morning drive and the switchboard was jammed with calls some fiercely resentful and wanting to report me to the ACLU but the majority saying things like--’here’s a guy we can trust--someone who finally tells the truth” The guy they could trust was GL whose idea it was and told them so--said GL was going to be my candidate for his stand on the “long festering immigration issue” I did not need to call GL --GL called me --said that his campaign HQ had been flooded with calls and more important than that donations were pouring in like no tomorrow. You turned on a fucking spigot Ross and I am not going to forget you.”
The confidential (no cell phones) briefing at 5:00 was worse than expected. GL’s people wanted to make sure that “top officials had no skeletons” lurking around in their closets. Henry Simpson was the one to deliver the news--a young clean cut tall man with receding hair, Texan style leather boots and an exaggerated southern accent that emphasized the cowboy vibe he wanted us to experience. His boyish face clothed inside a grey suit with a stars and stripes themed tie looked like he was preparing to leave the ranch and stay in the nation’s capital for a while.
“We are going to meet with each one of you personally to take “decisive actions” that would prevent any media people from ever tracking down a black mark or an embarrassing relationship etc. We cannot afford any type of scandal. None of us are pure or innocent.” He took a big scan of the room as if he had rehearsed not just the speech but all the accompanying movements.
“We all have em”he said in his smooth comforting news reader style his blue eyes sparkling as if he was giving us good news. “We all going to be squeaky clean at the end of this and it won’t take long. Each of you will have forms to sign that make you responsible for telling us the truth. We don’t want to waste time with any of you who want to cover up that past. We are not going to prosecute or go after anyone.We know all the facts so theres no point in holding anything back. Right now we have four teams of people -take a look at the white board at the back of me for your time and team members.”
I was first up for an interview right after the briefing ended a few minutes later as we shuffled out of the room to our interview rooms all of us looking downcast--but some more nervous than others. My mind was racing--what remark, what person, what product or failed business or indiscriminate act were they going to ask us to disown? My mind raced to my ex and the way that relationship ended. The time that I was involved with a set of swindlers selling insulation to people who did not need our inferior product. The time that I swore at a teacher, punched him for giving my kid a lousy grade that jeopardized her chances at Ivy League college? Who knew what kind of garbage they had found in my sewer pipe? I was soon privy to it all and some more. I found the cubicle --fittingly down in the building’s basement.
There were two in the room--one woman and one man inquisitor. The woman--about sixty--trying to avoid the frumpiness that went with an expanding waist line and face wrinkles appearng on her forehead and around her eyes. She had blue rinsed hair and glasses that suggested that she might have been a desk clerk at a bank before digitalization checking carefully that the signatures on the check agreed with the signatures on record. The man was also of the same age-a full head of bronze colored hair that had been dyed and flipped back in a Buddy Holly style to make it seem that he had found the secret to eternal youth but was not telling anyone quite yet. His face bore out the lie with very little signs of creasing or the usual midlife facial distortions.
“Well Mr Ross--we have been looking forward to this interview. We have prepared quite a dossier on you but don’t be alarmed --we can fix most of this with your cooperation” said the man
“By the way my name is Jeremy Sizemore and this my colleague Carla Schwartz” Carla first held eye contact with me for a second or two longer than necessary and then nodded at me as if I had passed some kind of secret test.
“Well just give me all the bad news and I am sure we can handle this” I said using my more confident radio shock jock voice.
“Nothing we can’t fix. Let me get straight to the point Mr Ross” said Jeremy now moving the thick file to where he could flick through it comfortably.
“Please” I said
“You had two employees at the station that you fired the other night in Columbus--is that right Mr Ross.”
“Yeah --Frank and Dana”
“That’s right--well they are a problem--not because they want to sue you for unfair labor practices at least not yet but because one of them is now angry enough to poking around in the shall we say the underbelly of our operations.
“What do you mean underbelly?” I asked curious but also somewhat relieved that it was not worse news--
“Our fundraising approach”
“OK so what’s bad about that?”
“Nothing but she is trying to cause trouble”
“What could be trouble since I am assuming you are doing everything right and above board”
“We are doing everything as you say “above board” but sheis distorting some facts and talking to the press about information that was confidential. Carla interjected to see if she could clean up the messiness that Sizemore botched effort to repaint reality.
“At anyrate we want you to intervene.” Sizemore interjected more assertively this time
“In what way?”
“Offer her a job back--give her another chance if she drops her “investigation”” he said using both his small hands as quote marks.
“So you want them back on my staff”
“Not sure they will want to join the GL administration but its worth a try I guess.”
“See if you can explain to them that their options may be limited at this point. Its either joining the GL administration or experiencing some of our hospitality elsewhere” chimed in Carla also using the exaggerated quote marks.
“Ok so what does that mean?”
“Whatever you want it to mean Mr Ross.”