“Summer time.”
Few phrases bring out the kid in all of us quite like it — no school, shorts and flip-flops, languidly lounging around lakes, novels so bad you can’t put them down, flowers, vacation, vacation, vacation — all perhaps owing to why this time of year remains so special to so many.
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For a man like Donald Trump, having a second presidential victory behind him, the entire GOP and a particular blonde in total subservience to him, billions in his bank account, the World Cup, the 250th, all the attention he can eat, and all the golf he can cheat in, this summer should be hot in a great way, the hottest summer ever, polls be damned.
And yet, no. This season has been a wind-whipped scorching presidential wildfire, burning through the last forested patches of goodwill, still not contained, fall still weeks ahead: a war he can’t tweet away (Lord knows, he’s tried), rising gas prices, rising all prices, dreadful data centers, failing electoral expectations, and, of particular note here, he’s bug-bitten by scandals that itch red even through orange powder. Scandals that don’t come close to rising to the level of Epstein and corruption have drawn disproportionate attention, and require more questions.
He should really appreciate that everyone moneyed and important enough to be on vacation is indeed so taken and unavailable to inquire about some of the weird stuff, questions that will sweat through his Sears suit. Unfortunately, our list here and now doesn’t even involve matters of war and peace, prosperity versus poverty, or even those never-to-be-sufficiently-damned data centers. No, for now, we start with catering containers.
No, no one should care that the Secret Service pulled a serviceably secret trick in getting Trump safely out of Ankara in July — that’s their job. We will even avoid some of the more troubling and legitimate ethical questions about using press members as decoys for possibly threatening Iranian missiles.
Instead, let’s be the first to ask how it was that the President of the United States waved goodbye to all his close friends in NATO, walked the width of Air Force One straight into a catering cart, a cart large enough to hide six or seven people and, indeed, took a handful of people, and yet managed to leave the United States Secretary of State (Marco Rubio) and Treasury Secretary (Scott Bessent) back on the plane along with horrific Deputy Chief of Staff Stephen Miller, the equally horrific and foul-mouthed Communications Director Steven Cheung, and Michael Needham a Deputy National Security Director.
Fine, one supposes. They work for the president and must live with his decision.
But again, the container had room for officials in our Continuity of Government or “COG” plan, and instead, Trump picked Walt Nauta, Oval Office Chief (a new nebulous position), Dan Scavino (Deputy Chief of Staff, an old position), and Natalie Harp, aide (perhaps the oldest position). The White House also acknowledges a couple other lower-level personnel went. We can be sure one was the mil-aide, or the military staff person carrying the nuclear weapon football, and one other military-spook-body guard-type. The last two make sense; nothing else does.
Why?
Pretend this is a normal White House. Sit back and just consider the ramifications if the Iranians successfully downed the legacy Air Force One and the international chaos that would ensue. Four of the people the country would most need would be the Secretary of State, the Treasury Secretary, the Deputy National Security Advisor, and the White House Communications Director. With this White House, they would not have been available. Yet the ones close and friendly to Trump, would be.
Clearly, Donald Trump picked out who accompanied him on the hidden diversion. Just as clearly, it seems as though he picked out the people most loyal to him, country be damned. He picked those who do him the most favors, may know the most secrets, over those whom the country might need amidst a disaster. (Again, pretend this White House worked as others.)
We had some fun, but it’s a very serious question that far too few are asking; perhaps many who otherwise would be asking are leisurely languishing on the beach or watching daughters run through the water spouts at the park.
Similar questions should be bandied about regarding this ballroom that we’ve all been banished into building. Yes, yes — indeed, Donald Trump has always loved opulence to a humiliating degree, loves being the center of attention amidst a large group, the type that pays $100,000 for dinner (and we may have just answered our own question), even loves being the mix-master, cranking out the hits, from Macho Man, to ICE ICE Baby, to James Brown “It’s a Man’s Man’s Man’s World,” all the way to REM “Losing My Religion,” ironic since his administrations have either drawn people closer to God or sent them running away.
But even given his famous self-pampering and obsession with luxury, our famously ADHD president can’t concentrate on anything quite like he has with this ballroom — more than the plane, more than the patio, more even than golf… maybe. It is almost like his life depends on a ballroom that cannot possibly be completed with more than six months remaining in his term. But it’s like the nation has taken a collective breath, noted, “it’s Trump being Trump” and turned to take in the tide at sunset.
And that’s unacceptable. It would be unacceptable even if Trump had not tweeted pictures of the ballroom essentially functioning as command and control of an entire army and air force. He says it’s needed for protection and yet regularly golfs at clubs open to anything that flies, has the world’s most sophisticated protection available already installed in the White House and stays at Mar-a-Lago, open to the sea.
Command and control of the military complex that is the legacy White House would be more critical were it not for the Pentagon, literally across the river, functioning both as the world’s biggest office building and command and control of the entire U.S. military. Moreover, we all know there is a breathlessly complex set of deep tunnels leading in all directions except up beneath Washington, DC, a complex specifically designed to protect the president and top staff from nuclear war. (And you’re naive if you don’t think there’s a tunnel directly from the Pentagon to the White House.)
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And yet we’re told we need an impenetrable ballroom battened down with even greater protection and functioning almost as its own military base? Why? And why does he even care? By the time it’s built, he would likely only have six months left on his term, and it’s not like him to care at all about… other presidents. Guesses as to the answer to that question are among the most disturbing ever considered by our press corps. It almost looks designed to prevent Americans from getting him out while staying in place, rather than him scurrying out somewhere else. We need answers. After all, we’re buying it.
Last, we have a situation inescapably developing before our eyes, one an eight-year-old could note, begging for a direct question and follow-ups: Why is Trump appearing to fall asleep more regularly and more deeply at midday White House events?
Yes, we see and hear about tweets at 1:30 a.m., often offered as purported evidence of Trump’s fitness and energy, and yes, a president should be awake, sober, and capable at any hour, but that includes mid-afternoon!
Most of us are sleepy right after lunch, but most of us are not president, and if it’s that big an issue, most of us wouldn’t have the run of the White House pharmacy at all hours and an ability to scream at a doctor, “I need something to stay awake!” This obvious issue also occurs concurrent with more frequent “physicals” at Walter Reed Medical Center, up from once a year to twice, along with those basic cognitive exams he continues to take.
Reporters have asked plenty of questions about the bruised hands, the cognitive tests, the physicals, but it looks like they fear their own egos might get bruised if they simply ask, “Why’s he asleep so much? Dreaming of money?” Lord knows Biden sure got lit (Jake Tapper) for similar issues.
No there should not be an age cutoff for president, especially as modern medicine keeps all of us healthier, living better and longer.
Donald Trump knew what he was getting into as president, he knew he was old, he made a campaign issue out of “sleepy Joe” (who had cancer!) and here we are, without a reporter to directly ask: “The president appears to be falling asleep in meetings, it appears to be happening more often. Why?”
If it’s an automatically redacted press pass, have an excited intern ask on their last day — plenty would likely volunteer. And yet in scouring the net, one cannot come up with a single example as to why the most obvious question goes unasked, never mind unanswered.
Maybe come fall. Everyone gets more serious after Labor Day, a holiday both loved dearly for what it is, despised for what it stands for, the end of summer; try wearing white again, freak. Americans face the dreary trek toward Thanksgiving, knowing the first thing on the “to do” list is all the stuff that didn’t get done over the last three months. Surely, surely, all dogs in heaven gave us the gift of football to start that very same weekend so as to make the swing, proving they still love us.
Yes, there are more important questions. A judge has the Epstein files under review. Todd Blanche is already running free. HYPE crypto jumped 17-20% Wednesday when Trump, well, hyped it. Today, reporters must ask: Did the president, his sons, or his money managers buy HYPE crypto in the last week?
The louder they squeal, the longer they are… in HYPE, at least.
But as to the three above, well — figure out what Natalie Harp provides Trump that Marco Rubio wouldn’t, ask exactly why Donald Trump seems so “invested” in a White House ballroom he’ll have six months in, max. And, hey, why’s that guy sleep so much?
Notice how freaked they get as reporters continually harp on Natalie? Well, see what happens when you lump all three together. Do it during Leavitt’s replacement’s first press conference. And remember, mistakes get made in a panic. One never knows what we might learn, and it’s a long fall.
Jason Miciak is a Raw Story Columnist, former editor of Occupy Democrats, author, political consultant, attorney, and single parent girldad. Please follow on Bluesky and he can be reached at [email protected]
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