Well, well. Lookee what I got: an invitation to Trump’s inaugural.
Actually, it’s not mine; Reince Priebus (or the robo-mailing outfit of his choice) sent it to Commentariat member Comrade X, who gifted it to me. Alas, I received it after the RSVP date — though I suspect that if I returned it with a large enough check they’d let me in, regardless.
That will happen after Satan’s next snowball fight.
Note the price tags here:
Yikes. $5,000 just to stay on the freakin’ mailing list; excuse me, I mean remain a vital member of the Chairman’s Advisory Board. Plus a $1,000 “Conference fee” for the flimsiest reason any direct-mail moneyraiser ever thought up: “To ensure that your contribution will go directly into the RNC’s candidate support programs” ($5,000 isn’t already enough for that?). Plus $2,700 for a hotel room ($2,744.57 to be precise; these people are serious about nickel-and-diming — not to mention pennying — their donors to death). Don’t they have any Motel 6s in DC? A KOA? Youth hostels?
And IIRC, Comrade X noted that there are other hidden fees. Not to mention transportation, meals, tips, bribes, kickbacks, palm grease, hush money, mordida, baksheesh, and buyoffs. Can’t do politics in DC without those!
Given all that, I guess you’d have to send one exceedingly large check to expect a VIP exemption to the January 9 RSVP date. A downright Clinton-sized donation, possibly.
But wait. Look. It says right there that I’m already an important person. Or that Comrade X is:
“Republican leaders like you”
“A key member of the GOP team that will lead America”
Wow. Comrade. I am in awe.
Either that or I lie. Yeah. I lie. Like a great big red rug under the feet of some celebrity you never heard of.
Here I must confess I got a big laugh. Thing is, Comrade X actually is, or was, a gen-u-ine R-party VIP. So when the Rinceman (or the robo-mailer of his choice) tells the Comrade he’s a Big Leader, it is, or was at one time, true. But years ago (I don’t recall why) I was on various R mailing lists and their mailings invariably told me I was a Big Leader, too, though to the best of my recollection I wasn’t even an R v*ter or an R anything.
That was just Republican schtick. ALL their mailers back then came with extras like “exclusive membership” cards, goofy natter about my “vital leadership role,” and other naked and totally inaccurate ego-flapping. (When George W. Bush extolled himself as “the decider” he was probably quoting from one of those mailers that told him how very, very special he was.)
That was just what Republican mailers did. Dems mailed weepy, whiny, indignant, apocalyptic change-the-world sh*t. Republicans kissed ass and stroked country-club egos. And OMG, 30 years later, they haven’t changed a line of it.
Finally, with no disrespect whatsoever to our faithful party Comrade, I also note that my inaugural invitation is printed cheaply on low-grade paper. And you know, country club hotshot and important Republican leader that I suddenly am, I expected at least Crane’s Crest 100% cotton. Or perhaps a dignified faux leatherette with a light touch of embossing and gold leaf. I am indignant and disappointed in my (formerly) good friend Reince. He clearly underestimates the key role I play in the Trump administration and the future of the Republican party.
Still, my disappointment will not stop me from framing my Trump inaugural invitation and placing it on the wall right next to — and about this I am absolutely serious — my personalized autograph from Tricky Dick Nixon.