By Terry Manning
Oh, my goodness.
I will say upfront I am writing this before the former president’s appearance in a Miami courtroom Tuesday afternoon to face a litany of charges connected to his mishandling of classified documents. Who knows what kind of nonsense will have happened between the time I’m writing this and its publication?
But man, oh man, that indictment. It’s a doozy.
In no uncertain terms, and often using the former president’s own statements on the sanctity of documents like those he removed from the White House at the end of his term, the case is made that he knew he was taking those documents inappropriately; that he willfully and recklessly exposed sensitive information to house guests (and who knows else); and that he conspired with his “body man” Waltine Nauta to keep federal agents from recovering said documents after he was given opportunity to so.
Like some others, I was eager to read the indictment after it was unsealed last week. I wanted to see exactly what special prosecutor Jack Smith had been able to uncover. And most of it fit with what I expected. Detail after detail is arranged to show how the former president played an elaborate game of hide-and-seek with records he knew he shouldn’t have had in his possession.
One reporter compared the shuffle of boxes of files to a shell game.
“A simple game of chance, folks. Where are the records, where are the records? In that room? Are you sure? Are you sure you sure? Let’s take a look. Ohhhh! I thought you had it that time. Wanna play again? Come on, it’s fun! You’ll just need another court order.”
The former president, Nauta and lawyers described as “Trump Attorney 1,” “Trump Attorney 2” and “Trump Attorney 3” are quoted at length talking about the documents, talking about showing the documents to people, talking about hiding the documents, and talking about lying about hiding the documents.
It’s all pretty standard stuff, as unprecedented national security scandal Cisco. But what caught me completely off guard, I must say, were the photos.
Of course it was breathtaking to see boxes on top of boxes tucked away in corners and hallways, even on the stage in one ballroom, where anybody and everybody could’ve gotten to them. One Twitter user faked a photo of her grandson and his new bride posing next to the files at their wedding reception.
Hilarious!
The bathroom photos, though, were the clincher for me. Especially the one where you see files stacked beside a toilet and shower stall with an absolutely ridiculous chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
People like to say they “literally laughed out loud” when they are trying to convey how funny something is to them (versus typing or texting the ubiquitous “LOL” and laughing emoji), but they usually don’t mean it literally. I am being literal when I tell you I laughed out loud at the chandelier.
That doggone chandelier told me more about the former president than any magazine profile, any news segment, any documentary, any chattering right-wing television figure or editorial cartoon.
That chandelier told me the former president is nothing more than fast-talking trash with a line of credit that allows him to indulge his worst instincts. He’s the King of the Classless. The Ruler of Rude. The Governor of Gauche. The Emperor of Ewww. The Baron of Barf. The Poobah of Puh-leez.
Let me be clear, I’m not against money or people who have money. And I don’t judge people for not having money. Both my parents spent parts of their childhoods helping their sharecropper parents keep food on the table, and they worked tough manufacturing jobs. My brother and I were blessed to have them as role models.
And that’s where I scratch my head at the people still trying to get the former president back in office.
He is a terrible, sloppy, low-character human being, and while it’s OK if some people want that to represent them in public office a la MTG, Boebert, Gaetz, et. al, the presidency should not be that office.
The president should represent the best of us and inspire the rest of us. I don’t want a president who thinks he’s a king. I don’t want a president who runs to rub other people’s noses in it. I don’t want a president who constantly sows division and urges people to be their worst selves.
I don’t want a president who thinks it’s classy to have a stupid chandelier hanging over his toilet.
Terry E. Manning is a Clemson graduate and worked for 20 years as a journalist. He can be reached at teemanning@gmail.com.
