Barrett Rainey's Second Thoughts

When world leaders get their heads together behind closed doors, many of us are curious about what may have been the topic of conversation.

So it was last week when our in-over-his-head president (small “p” please, Mr. Editor) and Pope Francis stepped away from what looked like an extremely uncomfortable public photo session. At least for the Pontiff. The two took a couple of steps into an adjoining room and the door closed quickly behind just the two of them.

When they emerged a few minutes later, Trump said loud enough for all to hear, “I’ll remember what you said.” So, what do you suppose His Holiness said?

Here’s what I hope it was: “I want your personal assurance that Gingrich woman won’t set foot in the Vatican as your ambassador – much less Italy!”

Trump has made a string of terrible Cabinet and ambassadorial selections. Hacks, know-nothings, revenge-seekers, government haters, politically and civically ignorant millionaires. But he surpassed even himself when he appointed a former congressional staff secretary and serial adulterer Ambassador to the Vatican.

Callista Bisek and Newt Gingrich began a six-year affair on Capitol Hill in 1993. She was a typist in Congressman Steve Gunderson’s office. Gunderson was gay but still “in the closet.” When he found out about the illicit bed hopping, he hesitated to fire Callista because she might “out” him as revenge. So, she and Newt were an open topic of conversation for years while Mrs. Gingrich (Marianne) fumed at home in Virginia.

In early2000, ol’ Newt informed his cancer-stricken – and hospitalized – wife he wanted a divorce. Bedside, it was. August 18th of that year, he and Callista made their long affair legal. Gingrich had pulled this same infidelity bit years before with his first wife but didn’t marry his co-adulterer.

While he was still in Congress, the Gingriches used his national clout to get the Catholic Church to annul his 18-year marriage to Marianne on the grounds she had been married before. Then Callista worked on Newt until he became a Catholic convert.

For several years, Newt battled his way up to becoming Speaker of the House until his “wheeling and dealing” and highly questionable ethics forced him to resign from Congress in disgrace. Or rather, it should have been disgrace.
The two have filled their time since Newt’s ouster selling books and video’s to the far right and becoming conservative celebrities. They’ve also raked in millions with public appearances and speeches appealing to the “religious” right. Apparently, serial adultery, public humiliation and disgrace can be overcome for a $19.95 video or a big bucks chicken dinner and a patriotic two-step.

The “business” of using ambassadorships as rewards for staunch, mostly rich political backers, is not new. Even John Kennedy’s Pop was an Ambassador to England in the ‘30’s because of his generous financial support of FDR. But, sometimes the appointee turns out to be a valuable asset in the largely ceremonial and administrative job. Former Senator Mike Mansfield and Caroline Kennedy, for example, were both ambassadors to Japan during some critical times and were publically praised for aiding America’s interests.

Still, most often, someone is appointed and never expected to do much more than pose for pictures, cut some ribbons and keep passport and other immigration issues to a minimum. And, of course, be the President’s eyes and ears in foreign political circles.

But, Callistsa Gingrich as ambassador to the Vatican – one of the most important geographic and moral places in all Christendom? Callista Gingrich? You’ve got to be kidding.

Those who watched the Pope and Trump closely during the short photo op couldn’t help but notice the Pontiff’s unsmiling face and the dour look he offered the cameras. A man who’s jubilant and charming manners have won him hundreds of millions fans all over the world, regardless of anyone’s differing personal religious beliefs, spent much of the brief time looking down at his shoes. Slippers?

I’d like to think there was a tipoff there – a silent pontifical message to the world that the following few minutes alone with Trump were going to be filled with very serious and important words on behalf of the Vatican, Catholics everywhere and honorable people of all faiths.

In my heart of hearts, I’d like to think the Pope said directly “I want your personal assurance that Gingrich woman won’t set foot in the Vatican as your ambassador – much less Italy.”

Hey, even us Protestants have feelings.

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At the moment, our country suffers many ills. National anger, resentment, a sense of lethargy, lost direction and distrust of government and other traditional institutions. Poll after poll after endless poll confirm the national despair. It’s real. It’s palpable. It’s weighing us down and sapping energies like nothing in my lifetime.

Some pundits lay blame for all this at the feet of one D. Trump. Not totally so, I think. The symptoms and feelings, existed years before he got the political bug and became the darling of a too-willing media. At best, it seems he can be charged with brutishly using all this as a basis for a deeply flawed – but successful – candidacy. He turned them into tools with which he played to suspicions, pumped up fear, posited lies as truths, offered false hope of change and a return to some mythical country that never existed. He even created a fictional D. Trump. He’s still doing it. And will continue.

Those who believe he’ll lead this nation to some sort of political nirvana have always been with us. But two things have changed – they’ve found someone to lead them who has international access – and the Internet.

I’ve known some of these disparagers of America all my life; successfully avoiding them mostly because they appeared singly or in small groups. Remember the John Birch Society? Or the Liberty Lobby? But it’s been the I-Net that’s given voice and a realization there are others with whom they can connect. And they have.

Proof of this personal theory can be found on your own little computer machine daily. In large measure. Someone invents a name or website – bleedingpatriotsforamerica.com – and suddenly others, eager for affirmation of their flawed beliefs, copy and paste what was only the raving of a drunken individual at two in the morning in a Michigan basement. Then, someone you don’t even know – but who’s a “friend-of-a-friend” on some “social” media site – splashes it on your screen and the lie spreads like rippling water. You don’t have to be Breitbart or Drudge or Beck. You just need the I-net and a keyboard.

In those months of the worst presidential contest of a lifetime, it was Trump who had the keyboard. He didn’t invent the anger and malaise – he just organized it. He called it a presidential campaign, captured a national media of sycophants willing to act as his unpaid campaign team/ad agency, regurgitated all the angry bile of the disaffected, added some of his own and played sucker donors out of dollars to be paid to his own companies to cover his expenses.

I’ve said for months the guy doesn’t want to be president. Why would he? Money? Fame? Power? He has all those in spades. “Make America Great Again?” How? Is he saying or proposing things to reshape the country in a positive, world leadership role? Is he talking like a leader? Thinking like a leader? Acting like a leader?

Then there’s the issue of his businesses and financial affairs. The guy has proven himself to be someone who has to be – MUST BE – in charge of everything around him. Did he truly put all that in a blind trust? Did he give access to his personal/business fortunes to anyone else? Anyone? Would he actually give up “control?”

The only thing we do know is he’s a pain in the national political ass. He’s coalescing his angry followers and continues to feed the anger and division we now contend with.

Our familiar, traditional national political base has radically changed in these past 20 months. That’ll continue. Both parties are losing members. More and more people think of themselves as independents or unaffiliated. Minority voters are growing at an unprecedented rate and studies repeatedly show they want to be politically active. Voters – and major donors – are turning to state politics. Congress – proving itself ineffective and rife with partisanship – is becoming less of a factor in how this nation deals with its problems.

This all makes for a national malaise of uncertainty. Uncertainty can scare people. It can disappoint. It can disaffect and alienate countries around the world with whom we have to work. It can be a breeding ground for bad decision-making. If it continues long enough, it can alter the course of a nation.

No, D. Trump didn’t bring us to this trying time. We’ve done it to ourselves in many ways. But, he’s been clever enough, loud enough and manipulative enough to take full advantage of the situation. More than it ever should, where we go from here depends – in great measure – on how we deal with this guy. That’s a national problem we must fix. Quickly.

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At the behest of a national media that knows no bounds when it comes to tastelessness and meaningless trivia, there’s a group of otherwise respected health professionals seemingly betraying its own code of ethics. I’m talking about psychiatrists and psychologists.

Day after day, you see them paraded on the vapid “talk” shows – all discussing the mental state of Donald Trump. Using the deeply clinical language of their professional calling, they sound so officious as they attach their psychiatric labels to a person they’re never met or whose medical records they’ve never read let alone had the opportunity do an in-person examination.

I’ve known and worked with a goodly number of mental health professionals over the years. Nearly all have been circumspect when it came to talking about clients. The real pros just don’t. They won’t violate the one-on-one relationships they specialize in.

But, daily and nightly, people with the title of “doctor” tied to their names, prattle on and on about D. Trump’s psychiatric state.

Now, some – or all – may be medically correct in their remote diagnoses. They may know exactly what lurks in Trump’s head. They may have the man pegged to a “T.” But their pronouncements have no place on national television or in the pages of some tabloid “newspaper.” Not even after a few drinks to lubricate their educated tongues down at Clancey’s just before closing.

If a network talking head wants to get into the mental speculation, fine. That’s apparently what they’re paid to do. But the “guests” who are mental health professionals – in my opinion – have no business prostituting their credentials by trying to use their training to titillate viewers who couldn’t tell a psychosis from an oil tanker.

No question there’s been a lot of speculation about Trump’s mental state. How could there not be? The constant lying. Ignorant descriptions of history and events that never happened. His admiration of world political figures who are dictators, killers or nut cases. His refusal to take nearly any advice and an unwillingness to educate himself about his duties and responsibilities. The tweets.

If I had the advanced mental health training of a psychiatrist or psychologist, I’d probably examine the clues of what’s on the public record and have some sort of opinion about the man’s mental condition. But that opinion – backed by that professional training – should not – and would not – be part of the 11 o’clock news.

Average viewers have no extended education in mental illness. They’re not equipped with the necessary technical information to fully understand the ramifications of what’s being discussed.

I’d like to see a legal ban on such interviews and an end to participation by licensed professionals in the public conversations.

You want to have a meaningful and informative discussion of Trump’s mental state? Fine. Meet me at Clancey’s just before last call.

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When 217 Republicans voted for the American Health Care Act (AHCA) last week, many were concerned with only one thing: job protection. Or, more properly put, to cover their asses. I’ve never seen a better example of that time-honored exercise in Congress than that one act.

Many members then made these sick and sorry PUBLIC admissions: not reading the bill – not knowing what was in it – having absolutely no idea what it cost – no consideration for what would be added to the national debt – no concept of its affects on real human beings – no humanitarian concern for 24 millions (or more) people losing health insurance – nothing! Just one big, right-out-in-the-open vote based on a purely selfish personal reason: continued employment.

The traditional method of creating legislation under the rules of the U.S. House involves many steps. Unless a national emergency is involved, the normal time for bills to go from introduction to a final vote is about eight months. Sometimes, more than a year.

Nearly all members of Congress have at least one person on staff to review bills page-by-page. Some have several legislative readers. It’s not unusual for a Congressman not to read all bills, opting for a review summary from staff. Most often written. Very common.

But this “normal” process wasn’t part of the AHCA vote. It couldn’t have been. Because the printed bill to be acted upon was basically a few pages – a summary itself – lacking details of final legislation. Like cost. I believe it was done that way for three reasons.

First, leadership knew the Senate would never pass what was being sent over. So, there was no use writing a couple thousand pages of legislation that wouldn’t survive. Second, the Senate would insist on writing its own bill which would go to a conference committee to work out the differences, resulting in basically a third bill.

But, most Congress watchers believe the third reason got the highest (some would argue lowest) GOP consideration. That was to score some sort of legislative victory for themselves and the president. Like seeming to kill Obamacare while not actually doing it. No consideration for the 24 million (or more) Americans who would lose health insurance. No thought of cost. Absolutely no redeeming value once passed. Just pure partisan politics. And some ass saving.

There’s one aspect of forcing that damnable legislation through I’d like to know about but never will. And that’s what kind of pork barrel goodies were promised members for “yes” votes. Some years ago, Congress vowed to stop pork barrel practices. But there’s pork and then there’s “pork.”

Like future leadership roles and committee chairmanships. And bigger office suites, betterf/more parking spots, increased office budgets, larger staffs, more travel and any new perk you can dream up to make life more pleasant. As I said, there’s pork. Then there’s “pork.” Hope someone will include those details in a future book.

Finally, Democrats and the media keep talking about voter anger at home and negative repercussions for Republicans who voted for AHCA. Well, maybe yes. And, maybe no.

Yes, there may be a few GOP “victims” But, after years of gerrymandering, most Republicans are in pretty secure districts. Like Idaho and Eastern Oregon. Primary opponents and Democrats in the general election would have to be awfully strong and widely based to bring someone down. There would have to be a very high turnout in an off-year election which is not typical. And, consider supporters who would “forgive and forget” a single disagreeable vote if the member is otherwise doing the job and making “good” votes. Threats to job security may not be as widespread as speculators think.

But, this you can take to the bank. What we witnessed was the most flagrant public display of “voter-be-damned,” arrogant, in-your-face, self-serving political B.S. in memory. Good of the country, impact on an anxious public, dollar and personal costs to taxpayers, basic right and wrong were never part of the discussion.

For too many Republican House members “sold” their “yes” votes for all to see, it was an exercise in ass saving. The question is, how many of those asses were worth the saving. To me, not many.

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My birthday falls on the usual date this year. It will, if I have my way, be roundly ignored since I long ago found personal health and activity level better and more reliable benchmarks than an arbitrary number on the calendar.

Besides, in our little seaside backwater, “an act of God” two days later will get more note in the month of August than my personal natal remembrance. On the 21st, our sky will go dark at about 10:17 in the morning. Birds and our local whale colony will become confused. Based on previous eclipse experience – and for reasons I’ll never understand – cameras will click and flash by the thousands in the blackness. Sun-worshipers will have nothing to worship. Local merchants will stand guard by their cash registers until the sun reappears two minutes later.

It’ll be that damned, once-in-a-lifetime, broad daylight total blackout that comes around only every century or so. Big deal! Better it should happen in Los Angeles or San Francisco or Seattle. That would give ‘em a real show.

When we moved into our little Pacific nest a few years back, we did so because the area is somewhat isolated. Aside from the summer months and spring break, people pretty much leave us alone. The sound of waves hitting the shoreline is about the most noise we hear. We’re surrounded by old growth forest. Highway 101 going North and South is the only way in and out of the area. Not truly an idyllic spot. But close.

Now, this is what we’re being told will happen in mid-August.

Starting several days before the 21st, traffic counts will go through the roof on the two state highways from inland to Newport and Lincoln City. The day of – and the day before – authorities are predicting locked bumpers from Salem, Corvallis and Eugene to the East. And where will all those that can get through wind up? Yep. Right here. On a two-lane U.S. Highway 101 that – remember now – is the only highway. And is likely to be gridlocked for the week.

Motels are already booked solid for days before and after. Rates that usually run $150-200 a night in tourist season sold out at up to $1,000 a night. Some motels have been requiring a five night stay. RV parks? Not a spot. Campgrounds, too. Some eating joints are publishing new menus with higher prices. And I can’t wait to see what a gallon of gas will sell for at the few local stations we have.

Every porta-potty in 400 miles has been rented. Extra sanitary trucks are being contracted. Emergency personnel – and all reserves – will be at full staffing and are already worried how they’ll get through all the jam-packed traffic when needed. And they will be needed.

Eye protection is another issue. We locals can get some free, heavily tinted temp glasses with cardboard earpieces. But what about the tourists? How many will come with their own proper equipment? Probably damned few. So, our two small hospitals are worried about how their emergency rooms will fare during all the hubbub. With eye burns and other injuries.

Grocery stores are already laying in extra merchandise. Locals have been advised to buy a week’s worth of food so they can hole up at home and stay off the roads and out of the expected mess. Also fill up their vehicles early since gas supplies may run out.

Every day seems to bring a new warning or caution from those in charge around here. Local “media” is full of tips and stories of expected problems. Emergency folk are already putting out news releases about this-and-that expected eclipse-related issues – most having to do with traffic and illegal parking blocking access to various locations for 40 miles either way. How does a driver pull over for a screaming siren when both sides of the only highway are blocked with empty cars illegally parked bumper to bumper?

At our house, right under the flight path, we’re trying to decide whether to get out of town for the week or stock up on supplies of everything and stay off the streets for seven days. Could go either way.

My birthday may go largely unnoticed this year. That’s fine. ‘Cause the really big deal will hit two days later. At 10:17am. That damned eclipse.

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