Fred Plotkin, a pleasure activist and passionate Italy and culinary expert, speaks each Friday with leading people in the arts FRED PLOTKIN is one of America’s foremost experts on opera and has distinguished himself in many fields as a writer, speaker, consultant and as a compelling teacher. He is an expert on everything Italian, the person other so-called Italy experts turn to for definitive information.  Fred discovered the concept of "The Renaissance Man" as a small child and has devoted himself to pursuing that ideal as the central role of his life. In a “Public Lives” profile in The New York Times on August 30, 2002, Plotkin was described as "one of those New York word-of-mouth legends, known by the cognoscenti for his renaissance mastery of two seemingly separate disciplines: music and the food of Italy." In the same publication, on May 11, 2006, it was written that "Fred is a New Yorker, but has the soul of an Italian."

One film journalist’s stream-of-consciousness cinematic journey through the pandemic, Part 114 By Laurence Lerman / New York City So reads the company motto atop the skyscraper headquarters of Hudsucker Industries, a mammoth corporation located in Any Big City, U.S.A. It’s the forward-thinking maxim at the heart of 1994’s The Hudsucker Proxy, the fifth film by the estimable Coen brothers and my favorite by the idiosyncratic sibs who’ve now been at it for nearly four decades.. Joel and Ethan Coen have written and directed 18 feature films over the past 40 years and it’s unlikely that The Hudsucker Proxy will figure on most critics’ “Top Ten Coen Movies” list, not when there are so many other prime cuts to consider. From acclaimed award-winners Fargo (1995) and No Country for Old Men (2007) to beloved cult entries like Raising Arizona (1987), The Big Lebowski (1998), and O Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000) to one-of-a-kind masterpieces Barton Fink (1991) and A Serious Man (2009), the Coens have a deep bench of great ones to choose from. The Hudsucker Proxy has always spoken to me and I usually re-watch it at the beginning of a new year, and not just because the film includes a memorable New Year’s Eve scene. For me (and my wife, who’s onboard as well), the movie signals an opportunity to look ahead to a future of fresh experiences and opportunities and another shot at some life-affirming fun. As one of the characters in the film declares as New Year’s approaches, “Ol’ daddy Earth fixin' to start one more trip 'round the sun and everybody hopin’ this ride 'round be a little more giddy, a little more gay." Hudsucker speaks of the allure of what’s going to happen tomorrow and how it’s worth savoring today. Inspired by the Americana cinema of Howard Hawks and Preston Sturges, The Hudsucker Proxy is a highly stylized, gently fantastical ’30s-era screwball comedy set in the go-go late ’50s world of big city business. It tells the whirlwind tale of Norville Barnes (Tim Robbins), a Capra-esque small-town college graduate who arrives in a wintry New York City (though it’s never actually identified as such) and within a week climbs from an entry level job in the Hudsucker mailroom to the company’s presidential suite. Along his How to Succeed in Business-like ascent, which finds him crafting a new product “for kids” (as he puts it), he meets fast-talking undercover reporter Amy Archer (a His Girl Friday-ish Jennifer Jason Leigh) and Hudsucker’s gruff second-in-command Sidney Musburger (Paul Newman), who assists in Norville’s elevation as part of a nefarious plot to depress the value of Hudsucker’s stock so that the board can buy it back and seize the company. By the end, Norville takes an inevitable fall (and a literal one) that actually works out for everyone in the film who deserves a happy ending. Based on a script that Joel and Ethan Coen and co-screenwriter Sam Raimi wrote in the mid-’80s, the filmmakers knew the film was going to be pricey, so they waited a bit. The right time came in the early ’90s, following the triumph of Barton Fink at Cannes. The Coens teamed up with big-time Hollywood producer Joel Silver (Lethal Weapon, Die Hard), who got them a sizable $25 million budget (their biggest ever, at that time). For the Coens in 1994, the future was indeed now. A good deal of that budget went to Hudsucker’s dazzling physical production. It was primarily overseen by production designer Dennis Gassner, beginning with the film’s remarkably detailed big city set miniatures and sleek, modernist building interiors. Then there’s Richard Hornung’s costume designs, which colorfully evoke the period—Newman’s bespoke suits are snazzy and strong—and Roger Deakin’s rich cinematography, which makes the colors and textures dance. Best of all is the soundtrack, which finds the Coens’ go-to composer Carter Burwell adapting classical pieces by Georgian composer Aram Khatchurian, including his renowned “Sabre Dance.” The grandeur and warmth of the score are perfect for the elegant-looking film, particularly its lofty opening sequence and soothing conclusion. But there’s also plenty of satire, belly laughs and big smiles to go around and a love story between Robbins and Leigh that plays quite sweetly. Meanwhile, the legendary Newman looks like he’s having a great time, and he's abetted with strong supporting turns by Charles Durning, Bill Cobbs and Jim True. There’s also the fleeting but familiar presence of such Coen regulars as John Mahoney, Jon Polito and Steve Buscemi, as well as a 30-second appearance by Peter Gallagher that remains the single funniest bit he’s ever done. Anna Nicole Smith even pops up for a moment or two! Well, The Hudsucker Proxy, released wide in the spring of 1994, went on to become one of the biggest flops of the Coen Brothers’ career, ringing up less than $3 million at the domestic box office and another $8 million around the world. It appeared that the Coen’s method of taking classic American genres and putting their own indelible stamp on them didn’t click this time around. Perhaps it was that the film was too stylized or too romanticized or, as an homage or satire of both the ’30s and ’50s, a little all over the place. But I really love it and its message of being true to one’s self in the face of business and dreams and love and the chance of hitting the jackpot when it comes to all three. It’s a movie that playfully nudges me forward to embrace a new year and all its possibilities. The future is now. Laurence Lerman is a film journalist, former editor of Video Business--Variety's DVD trade publication--and husband to The Insider's own Gwen Cooper. Over the course of his career he has conducted one-on-one interviews with just about every major director working today, including Martin Scorsese, Quentin Tarantino, Clint Eastwood, Kathryn Bigelow, Ridley Scott, Walter Hill, Spike Lee, and Werner Herzog, among numerous others. Once James Cameron specifically requested an interview with Laurence by name, which his wife still likes to brag about. Most recently, he is the co-founder and editor-in-chief of the online review site DiscDish.com.

By Naomi Serviss / New York City Sixteen Broadway shows (out of 32 currently running) will literally go dark in the next two months. Not just because of Covid, although it played a significant role. Some shows were only booked for limited runs, while others lost bank because soaring ticket costs resulted in half-filled theaters haunted by nervous producers. Others were decked by Covid throughout performances, sometimes with standbys taking the reins. Exorbitant ticket prices notwithstanding, who can blame folk avoiding the theater district like the plague? Because it’s still in the air, people! Covid-related illnesses have affected nearly every production. Cancellations of performances have taken their toll, exhausting all who have borne the short end of the stick. Most theaters have dropped mask requirements, much to the dismay of most industry professionals. Adding to further alarm, the World Health Organization warns that a new Covid-19 subvariant (XBB.1.5.) is the most transmissible yet! About 75 percent of new cases in the northeastern states are due to this latest iteration. But wait, there’s more: this variant is immunity-resistant and highly contagious! Lose/Lose! Still reluctant to wear a mask? If you do choose to brave the midtown matinee madness to catch one more Phantom of the Opera or the brilliant (six-time) Tony winner Audra McDonald in Ohio State Murders, you will be rewarded by having witnessed a tour de force performance. Dismal ticket sales for Ohio State Murders have forced a premature closing on January 15th. The production, the first at the newly christened James Earl Jones Theatre, earned stellar reviews as one of the finest Broadway dramas this year. It previewed on November 11, opened on December 8 and was scheduled to run until February 12. Too bad the production failed to find an audience. Two weeks ago, when tourists flooded Broadway at the peak of the holidays, Ohio State Murders filled less than 50 percent of the seats. Other weeks it fared worse. No wonder many excellent plays have hit the skids. Reticent producers are skittish about risky theater business. A hard lesson this past season, but an essential one for planning plan future seasons. Musicals are better bets. Favored by tourists who splurge on big, splashy eye candy, rather than “straight plays” (nonmusical). Since the pandemic has plagued our country, theater costs have risen and attendance has plummeted. But it’s not all doom and gloom. Let’s say you’re on a Manhattan vacation (or live nearby) and plan to see a play or a musical (or both). If you have decided to stop covering your face, you’ll be pleasantly surprised by a mostly maskless crowd. Mind you, ushers encourage patrons keep their faces covered, but it’s no longer required. Gone are the days of ubiquitous security inspectors outside theaters, and nervous Nelly patrons anxiously waiting their vaccination- proving/bag-examination turns. These days, it’s a relatively smooth transition from the chilly outside line to the sanctuary of a warm lobby and into the welcoming arms of the ticket takers. When directed to your seat, you’ll notice mostly masked ushers. Logic dictates they don face coverings since they’re daily exposed to hundreds of people. Announcements ahead of a performance still include a recitation of: *Masks are no longer required but are highly recommended *No photo or video-taking *Turn off cellphones *Unwrap your candy now *Don’t annoy your neighbor.” The last sentiment is mine, after having been literally elbowed out of armrest real estate and chatted up once too often by Nosey Parkers. With a revival of Camelot on the books, the likes of Nathan Lane, Danny Burstein, and Daniel Radcliffe gracing the boards, it’s going to be a very good year. Of course, you can’t coerce audiences to see a show they’re not into, especially with those crazy ticket prices. Some steals (from $49) can be found at the TKTS booth or on TDF’s (Theatre Development Fund) online site. Otherwise, you’ll be doling out hundreds of dollars to see Hugh Jackman lead 76 trombones in The Music Man. Upcoming season highlights are bountiful, and I’m especially eager to catch: Summer, 1976 Laura Linney, multi-talented thespian, four-time Emmy winner and twice Tony-nominated, is a thrill. A Doll’s House Jessica Chastain stars in the first revival of this play since 1977. New York, New York Kander & Ebb’s musical will be composed with Lin-Manuel Miranda. Life of Pi A theatrical adaptation of the book and movie. Sweeney Todd the Demon Barber of Fleet Street This most anticipated musical will star Annaleigh Ashford and Josh Groban. Bob Fosse’s Dancin’ Anticipated to be a singular sensation. Camelot An updated book by Aaron Sorkin has the theater world abuzz. Bad Cinderella This should be a hoot, composed by Andrew Lloyd Weber. Pictures from Home This limited engagement at Studio 54 is star-studded, with Nathan Lane and Danny Burstein. Back to the Future: The Musical This extravaganza should be a slam dunk with Boomers and progeny alike. My sage advice: If you’re planning on seeing a show, always check with the TKTS booth (47th & Broadway) for discounted tickets the day of. TDF (Theatre Development Fund), which runs TKTS, offers online membership for reduced-price seats. It’s a bargain! Naomi Serviss is a New York-based award-winning journalist whose work has been published in The New York Times, Newsday, The Philadelphia Inquirer, Highroads (AAA magazine), in-flight publications, spa and travel magazines and websites, including BroadwayWorld.com

By Lydia Hope Wilen / New York City Former Presidents, Final Residence John Adams and Thomas Jefferson had a herky-jerky relationship. They went from allies to adversaries and back again. They were friends. They were enemies. They were frenemies. Get the picture? To prevent this from becoming a history lesson, we’ll touch on the salient points leading up to and including your chance of getting gobsmacked by the punchline. In 1775, Adams and Jefferson met as delegates to the Continental Congress and became close friends. A year later, Adams selected Jefferson to draft the Declaration of Independence. Hey, what are friends for? In the 1780s, both served diplomatic missions in Europe. During that time, Jefferson’s wife died and John and Abigail Adams consoled him, and made him feel like family. But you know what can happen in families. When they returned to the U.S., Jefferson who was Washington’s secretary of state, was drawn to the new Republican Party. Adams, Washington’s vice president, aligned himself with the Federalist Party. Skipping a lot of letter writing filled with nasty accusations by Adams about Jefferson, brings us to 1796, when Washington stepped down as president. Jefferson came out of seclusion and ran for president against Adams. Adams won. It was a narrow victory. Jefferson and Adams ran against one another again in 1800. Up until our 2016 and 2020 elections, theirs held the record for the nastiest, dirtiest, sleaziest campaigning and election in American politics. How nasty was it? On Jefferson’s Inauguration Day, Adams skipped the ceremony and left D.C. to join Abigail in Massachusetts. The two former friends did not speak to each other for the following 12 years. A signer of the Declaration of Independence and a mutual friend of Adams and Jefferson, Benjamin Rush, the rascal, wrote to each of them, saying the other was interested in resurrecting their friendship. It worked…eventually, three years later. On January 1st, 1812, Adams sent a short note to Jefferson and for the next 14 years, which included 158 letters, they were pen pals. In one letter, Adams wrote, “You and I ought not to die before we have explained ourselves to each other.” Even after the passing of Adams’ beloved Abigail in 1818, the ailing 83-year-old Adams kept up the correspondence. In 1823, Jefferson, the younger of the two, who was then 80, wrote, “Crippled wrists and fingers make writing slow and laborious, but while writing to you, I lose the sense of these things, in the recollection of ancient times, when youth and health made happiness out of every thing.” The evening of the 3rd of the month in 1826, Jefferson fell into a coma and died after noon on the following day. It was at that time that Adams collapsed in his reading chair. He gained consciousness a couple of hours later and uttered his last words. No historians know for sure what those last words were, but it definitely included the name Thomas Jefferson. Adams was in Quincy, Mass and Jefferson in Monticello, Va. Two friends passed away on the very same day What Are the Chances for them to die on Independence Day, the 4th of July? Oh my! reMARKable Samuel Langhorne Clemens was known by his pen name Mark Twain. He was born in 1835, the same year that Halley’s Comet appeared for the first time in recorded history. Twain learned of this and felt so connected to those two 1835 events—his birth and hello Halley’s Comet—that, in 1909, when he was on in years, he is quoted as saying, “The Almighty has said, no doubt, ‘Now here are these two unaccountable freaks; they came in together, they must go out together.’” What Are the Chances that Mark Twain would die in April, 1910 and Halley’s Comet would make a second appearance a month later, in May of 1910? Rocket Scientists: Galileo, Hawking, Einstein (from left to right) The Giantests of Scientists Which three scientist giants come to mind? I’ll give you a hint that probably won’t help. The three were extremely important theoretical physicists. Another hint? A theoretical physicist is a scientist who uses mathematics, calculations, chemistry, biology and a series of theories to understand the complex workings of the universe and the interactions between matter and energy. Ah, now you must know one, two and maybe all three of the scientists to whom I will be referring. Without modern technology, Galileo (remember him?) reigns supreme. He was born in 1564 and died January 8th, 1642. On the 300th anniversary of his death, January 8th, 1942, Stephen Hawking entered the world. What are the chances that Stephen Hawking, who became a world-renowned theoretical physicist, was born exactly 300 years to the day that Galileo died? Ah, but it doesn’t stop there. Theoretical physicist Albert Einstein (the scientist we know for his Theory of Relativity) was born on March 14th, 1879. Stephen Hawking died on Albert Einstein’s birthday, March 14th, 2018. But the most extraordinary “What Are the Chances…?” (as if those weren’t enough) is the fact that Stephen Hawking defied all odds and lived an average lifespan, considering he was diagnosed with ALS (also known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease) when he was in graduate school at age 21. Talk about statistical improbability, the usual survival time after diagnosis, is two to five years… sometimes five years or even ten years. Stephen Hawking survived for an additional five-plus decades. During his 55 years of life with progressively debilitating ALS, he found ways to work, gifting the scientific world with major contributions to the understanding of gravity, black holes and cosmology. No walking. No talking. That didn’t stop Stephen Hawking! After reading the author’s “What Are the Chances…?” series, Insider reader Kia Portafekas kept thinking of how there are times that you just can’t listen to yourself…times when things will change for the better once you take the road you swore not to go down. Here, Kia shares her perfect example. By Kia Portafekas / Vista, California After having my favorite breed of cat, a calico, for 19 years in the Bronx, my mom and I said, “NO MORE!” Reason: When the cat is ready to make a transition and pass on, it’s so very emotionally intense. And so we were catless when we moved to Arizona. One day, I was doing a signing at Barnes & Noble with my book: Making Music With Your Child. It was on a Saturday, the day I would watch Pets on Parade, a TV show that had educational talks, animal adventure stories and pet adoptions. After the book signing, I raced home to catch as much as I could of Pets on Parade. When we arrived home, I immediately put on the TV and there was Jill, a calico cat. My mom and I looked at each other and both of us said an adamant “NO!” Within 30 minutes, we were driving more than an hour to the Arizona Humane Society. When we got there, we had to place our names in a lottery bin, since there were so many people there who wanted to adopt pets. This was ridiculous. I said to my mom, “Let’s leave. There are too many people. What chance do we have?” My mother said, “Let’s just wait and see what happens.” When it was time for the lucky lottery winner to be called for adopting Jill, a woman asked, “Is Kia here to adopt Jill?” My name had been chosen! I raised my hand and told the woman, “I’m Kia and I’d like to meet Jill before we decide to adopt her.” I never won a lottery of any kind before, so while walking over to the cat’s cage, I asked the woman how many lottery tickets were in the bin for Jill. Her answer was a surprise, “Only you.” She was there waiting for only me and my mom. It was love at first sight. We renamed her Sanchi, a name that came to me in a dream. I was told by my friend Rinpoche, a Tibetan monk, that Sanchi is a high holy stupa in India. Nineteen years later, Sanchi has been a blessing in our lives. What were the chances that we’d see her on TV, ignore our “no calico” policy, drive a long way to get to her and then to have her there waiting for us with no other takers? She was meant to be ours. Miracles come into our lives all the time, as long as our hearts welcome them, making anything and everything possible. Lydia Hope Wilen had a successful collaboration with her late sister Joany as nonfiction bestselling authors (18 books), journalists, TV personalities, writers and talent coordinators on a Nickelodeon series hosted by Leonard Nimoy, Reading Rainbow episodes, skit writers for Dr. Ruth's TV show, Diet America Challenge on CBS, and writers of screenplays (optioned but not produced yet). Lydia is writing on her own now and has just completed an extraordinary book for young people and their parents. It will have them laughing and learning...once she gets an agent and it gets published.

By Jessie Seigel / Washington, D.C. For Kevin McCarthy—FINALLY!—the 15th time was the charm. Last week, the nation was held hostage, watching Republican infighting in the U.S. House of Representatives as the GOP heir apparent, Kevin McCarthy, lost vote after vote for the House speakership, each vote count conducted immediately on the heels of the one that preceded it. With all members voting, McCarthy needed the support of 218 members to win the necessary majority. To succeed, he could only afford to lose four Republican votes to another candidate. The Democrats stood unified behind their leader, Hakeem Jeffries, with a solid 212 votes for him on each of the 15 ballots. But 20 hardline right-wing Republicans of the self-styled Freedom Caucus steadfastly opposed McCarthy. The Bakersfield, Calif. congressman spent most of the week courting them—while they wrung concession after concession out of him, only to vote against him in each successive balloting and demand even more concessions afterwards. Based on their tactics, MSNBC host Lawrence O’Donnell dubbed McCarthy’s adversaries “legislative terrorists.” It was predicted by various commentators that by the time McCarthy was done, his power as speaker would be entirely undermined. By Friday, after a seemingly never-ending nightmare for the groveling McCarthy, the opposition was whittled down to six. Ultimately, the six intransigent representatives, (Lauren Boebert of Colorado, Andy Biggs and Eli Crane of Arizona, Bob Good of Virginia, Matt Rosendale of Montanta, and Matt Gaetz of Florida) allowed McCarthy his victory on the 15th ballot by voting “present.” Under the House’s arcane rules, those voting “present” don’t count as part of the total votes from which a majority must be obtained. Thus, McCarthy was able to eke out a majority with just 216 votes. This, however, was not before Matt Gaetz, who had previously cast an irritating vote for Donald Trump as speaker, caused a brouhaha as the final, single vote denying McCarthy his win on the 14th ballot. Alabama Rep. Mike Rogers had to be physically restrained from charging at Gaetz . And then, just as the House was about to adjourn until Monday, Gaetz suddenly changed course; and instead of adjourning, the Republicans went for that 15th ballot. The one that did the trick. What irony that those who aided the January 6, 2021 insurrection by objecting to the certification of President Biden’s election should be the ones to decide whether McCarthy became leader on the 2023 anniversary of that attack. And what drama! What a great circus it all was! Wait—no. Circus performers demonstrate far more discipline than that shown by the Republican Party. Not to mention the strong backbones required of circus performers. While this congressional show may have been amusing to some Democrats in the chamber, it was frustrating to many of the representatives-elect who could not, without an elected speaker, be sworn in as members of the House and begin the work they were elected to conduct. But forget the Republican theatrics. The truly serious question that will affect the nation is what concessions McCarthy made to the right-wing extremists in his party so they would let him be Speaker. What did Matt Gaetz get that made him and his fellow legislative bomb throwers back off and allow McCarthy his win? And how much more damage will those concessions do to democratic governance? According to Salon’s early report, McCarthy agreed to investigate former Speaker Nancy Pelosi, the Biden Administration, and the treatment of the January 2021 Capitol attackers. He also agreed to remove pandemic and post-Jan. 6 security protocols at the Capitol and limit the Office of Congressional Ethics—all moves supremely desirable for those members of the House who supported Trump’s effort to prevent the Congress’s certification of President Biden’s election or who would prefer to leave the Capitol unprotected for the next round of insurrections. McCarthy has agreed that any one member of the House can force a motion to vacate his position, thus calling for a vote to remove him from the speakership. This renders McCarthy’s win of the speakership on Friday a textbook Pyrrhic victory. Any time even one member opposes some proposal he makes or negotiation concerning legislation, the work of the House can be halted while members vote whether to remove him. This places McCarthy utterly at the mercy of his party’s extremists, who have already shown their willingness to disrupt the ability of the House to function. Among other concerns, it will make it more difficult for the House to raise spending, taxes, and the debt limit. To mollify those withholding support, McCarthy agreed to create a House Judiciary select subcommittee on the “weaponization of the Federal Government” whose sweeping purview will be to investigate the Biden Administration, the source of COVID-19, and the relationship between the United States and China. The subcommittee is not expected to have individual subpoena power. But the full Judiciary Committee does have such power. And right-wing pit bull Jim Jordan from Ohio is expected to be the Committee’s chair. In addition, under McCarthy’s leadership, Republicans plan to reinstate the Holman rule, last in effect during the Trump Administration. This rule would allow amendments to appropriations bills that would cut the salaries of particular federal workers or programs to $1.00—in essence, ruthlessly defunding them. According to The Hill, some Republicans have suggested the rule should be used to defund certain investigations, as well as officials in the FBI, DOJ, Homeland Security, and those involved in Covid policy making. Some of the right-wing holdouts also demanded to be made subcommittee chairs. It is not yet known to what degree McCarthy capitulated. But, according to Bloomberg, Matt Gaetz wanted to chair a House Armed Services subcommittee. And Maryland Republican Rep. Andy Harris, “one of Congress’s most conspicuous opponents of abortion and recreational marijuana, wanted the gavel of the Appropriations subcommittee on Health and Human Services.” On Friday, Democratic Rep. Jason Crow of Colorado expressed concern to MSNBC that if McCarthy has given Freedom Caucus members subcommittee chairmanships, they will use the chairmanships to grind House business to a halt, paralyzing the institution. Crow, a former Army Ranger and Bronze Star recipient, was especially concerned about the possibility of Matt Gaetz—who has accused the Pentagon of being more focused on “wokeism” than defense—becoming chair of the armed services subcommittee. Most important of all, the extreme right-wing Freedom Caucus demanded three seats on the Rules Committee. That committee controls what bills make it to the House floor as well as procedures affecting debate. Power over House rules would enable the hardliners to control what gets raised and what gets debated for the next two years. Democratic Rep. Jim McGovern of Massachusetts, the most recent Rules Committee chair, told NBC News, “The reason these people want to be on the Rules Committee is they want to screw things up for McCarthy. They want to micromanage every single thing that he brings to the floor.” In his speech nominating House Democratic leader Hakeem Jeffries on the 14th ballot, Rep. Pete Aguilar of California pointed out that “the same individuals who fanned the flames of Jan.6…and who challenged the swearing in of members based on a bogus claim of fake electors may well be in charge of the People’s House, if they can ever agree on who can lead them.” It appears that Rep. Aguilar’s prediction may well have come true. Based on their tactics and their demands, the current batch of extremists don’t want to govern but want to use their congressional power to prevent investigations into their actions related to the Jan. 6 attack, take revenge on those who conducted legitimate investigations in the last Congress, and tear down democratic governance for their own aggrandizement. The misnamed Freedom Caucus’ mentality has been decades in the making. There is a direct line extending back from these disruptive, pseudo anarchists to the the Tea Party movement, and even further back, to Ronald Reagan’s government-bashing. The Democratic-held Senate and the presidential veto power may succeed in blocking the most extreme legislation the House is now likely to pass. Nevertheless, as Betty Davis famously said in All About Eve, “Fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to be a bumpy night.” Political columnist Jessie Seigel had a long career as a government attorney in which she honed her analytic skills. She has also twice received an Artist’s Fellowship from the Washington, D.C. Commission on the Arts and Humanities for her fiction, and has been a finalist for a number of literary awards. In addition, Seigel is an associate editor at the Potomac Review, a reviewer for The Washington Independent Review of Books, and a dabbler in political cartoons at Daily Kos. Of this balance in her work between the analytic and the imaginative, Seigel jokes, “I guess my right and left brains are well-balanced.” More on and from Seigel can be found at The Adventurous Writer, https://www.jessieseigel.com.

By Andy Borowitz January 9, 2023 WASHINGTON (The Borowitz Report)—Kevin McCarthy’s tenure as Speaker of the House got off to an awkward start as the California congressman asked “whatever joker” hid his gavel to return it at once. “O.K., guys, you’ve had your fun,” McCarthy said, his voice barely audible over the derisive hoots of his fellow-Republicans. “I’m going to count to ten, and then I expect to have my gavel back.” “Kev knows how count to ten?” Representative Matt Gaetz asked, after which members of the Freedom Caucus egged him on by chanting, “Gaetz! Gaetz! Gaetz! Gaetz!” “C’mon, Matt, stop being such an ass,” McCarthy retorted. “I know you are, but what am I?” the Florida congressman shot back. Seemingly losing his patience, McCarthy leapt from the podium and attempted to throttle Gaetz before the two were separated by congresswomen Lauren Boebert and Marjorie Taylor Greene. In the scuffle’s aftermath, Representative Jim Jordan of Ohio defended whoever hid the Speaker’s gavel. “Was today a little messy?” Jordan said. “Yes. But this was democracy at its best.” Andy Borowitz is a Times best-selling author and a comedian who has written for The New Yorker since 1998. He writes The Borowitz Report, a satirical column on the news.

By John Rolfe / Red Hook, N.Y. The Damar Hamlin saga is one of the most extraordinary I’ve seen during my 65 years of life, which includes 28 as a journalist for Sports Illustrated. Gruesome, life-threatening or even fatal injuries have always come with the turf in athletics, but Hamlin’s incident has had a far-reaching effect unlike any other that I can recall. How lasting it will be remains to be seen. When the 24-year-old Buffalo Bills safety collapsed and went into cardiac arrest after making a routine tackle during a nationally televised game on January 2, the nation went into shock and the ripples were felt everywhere. Fans rushed to the hospital in Cincinnati where his life was saved. Social media, and traditional media as well, were flooded with prayerful support from all walks of life. Millions of dollars of donations poured into the charity toy drive Hamlin had started for needy kids. And the usual debate about the safety of football, and sports in general, was ignited as it always is when an athlete is stricken in a dramatic, public way. The big surprise was that Hamlin is not a star in his sport or a household name who could be expected to stir such widespread emotion and sustained coverage until his release from the hospital on Jan. 9, or cause the NFL to suspend and ultimately cancel a game that had implications for the upcoming playoffs. I don’t recall things quite like this happening after tight end Kevin Everett of the Bills was felled by a life-threatening spinal cord injury during a game in 2007. Or when New York Jets linebacker Dennis Byrd was paralyzed by an on-field collision in 1992. Or when New England Patriots receiver Darryl Stingley was left wheelchair-bound for the rest of his life by a hit from safety Jack Tatum of the Oakland Raiders in 1978. However, it is hardly surprising that, given our tempestuous political climate, Hamlin instantly became fodder for conspiracy theorists who claimed without evidence (as usual) that the Covid vaccine was to blame. There has also been hardly-new condemnation of the NFL for profiting off games in which players who are mostly Black and from disadvantaged backgrounds brutalize each other while their long-term health is given short shrift by the white men who dominate the League’s hierarchy. Some commentary I’ve heard has also savaged the NFL for promoting a blood sport that is being called a disgusting product of a paternalistic/male-dominated culture that revels in bloody violence. That charge isn’t new, but I’m now hearing talk that football should be banned and commentators like Fox News’ Laura Ingraham have jumped on it as evidence that a woke mob is coming to take our beloved pleasures and pastimes. A deep breath is clearly in order. As of this writing (four days after the incident), it isn’t known exactly what sent Hamlin into cardiac arrest, though it possibly could have been commotio cardis, a condition brought on by a blow to the chest that interrupts the heartbeat. If so, there’s no way to prevent that from happening in a rough contact sport. In 1998, defenseman Chris Pronger of the National Hockey League’s St. Louis Blues was struck in the chest by a puck and collapsed. He survived and returned to playing. It’s remarkable that such incidents aren't more common. Yes, football and hockey are rough but not as bad as they used to be. Rules changes in the NFL have made blows to the head and most instances of contact with a vulnerable quarterback or receiver illegal. Safety equipment has been steadily improving since the early days when players wore helmets without facemasks. Much still needs to be done on the pro and college levels, but the NFL has been working to address the effects of concussions and other hard blows to the head. So has the NHL, which has greatly reduced fighting, a remarkable move given the glorification of enforcers (players whose role is mainly to use their fists) and the popularity of websites like Hockeyfights.com, which curates bouts for any and all to watch. Sure, our society enjoys violent entertainment. That boxing was eclipsed in popularity by the more brutal mixed martial arts attests to that. And it has often been said that many people watch auto racing simply for the spectacular crashes. But violence isn’t why football and hockey are my favorite sports. First off, I need a rooting interest (New York’s Giants and Islanders) to get emotionally invested in games. But I mostly admire the skill level and strategies these sports require, and the gripping, often-dramatic way games play out. I’m sure I’m not unique in this respect. I also believe that the appeal of sports has been magnified by fantasy leagues and legal gambling. Banning football or hockey is a pipe dream when billions of dollars are at play. It’s also unnecessary. No sport is entirely safe, but I think most people are aware of the risks when they choose to play one. Possible fame and fortune certainly go a long way toward diluting any concern. And while extremely unfortunate, tragic incidents can lead to positive developments, though it often takes public outcry, lawsuits and fan boycotts to inspire action. Three NASCAR drivers died of skull or neck injuries in crashes during an eight-month span before the death of icon Dale Earnhardt Sr. during the 2001 Daytona 500 finally moved the stock car circuit to redesign its vehicles, require head and neck restraints, and add safety barriers to tracks. NASCAR hasn’t had a fatality since. Major League Baseball was very slow to adopt batting helmets after Cleveland’s Ray Chapman was fatally beaned by a pitch in 1920. They were finally made mandatory in 1971, and now include ear flaps and in some cases face shields. Beanings still occur, but no one else has been killed. Without doubt, witnessing a serious or fatal injury delivers the shock of cold reality. The hit by Giants linebacker Lawrence Taylor that snapped the leg of Washington quarterback Joe Theisman on national TV in 1985 was very hard to forget. Same thing if you were watching when IndyCar driver Justin Wilson was killed by flying debris during a race at Pocono Raceway in 2015. Sometimes, if you feel you have a personal connection to an athlete, you don’t have to witness their tragedy for it to hit home hard. For me, such an incident occurred in 1988 after I’d spent a day with journeyman jockey Mike Venezia at New York City’s Aqueduct Racetrack for a profile I was writing. Horse racing is a sport where both humans and animals frequently suffer, and it has been the target of calls for a ban. Mike was extremely friendly and cooperative, and I liked him very much. Ten months later I heard the news that he’d been killed during a race when the horse he was riding threw him and he was kicked in the head by hooves. Remembering his death makes me feel sad as I still have one of his riding crops that he gave me. No matter what comes of the Hamlin incident, it has obviously served as a sobering reminder of the humanity of athletes. “Putting it all in perspective” is the sports equivalent of “thoughts and prayers” after a mass shooting. We pause and reflect, but life goes on. With any luck, though, some good comes from bad events like this one. John Rolfe is a former senior editor for Sports Illustrated for Kids, a longtime columnist for the Poughkeepsie Journal/USA Today Network, and author of The Goose in the Bathroom: Stirring Tales of Family Life. His school bus drivin’ blog “Hellions, Mayhem and Brake Failure” is parked on his website Celestialchuckle.com (https://celestialchuckle.com) with the meter running.

By Bonnie Fishman / San Francisco Bay Area We just ended a two-week onslaught of family guests. It was truly wonderful. It all began with one Fishman cousin trickling in from Minneapolis on December 17, then two more from Detroit on the 19th. This was followed up by our daughter, Hanna, and her pack of three dogs. Two days before Christmas, our son, Ben, his wife, two rambunctious boys, and two more dogs drove up from Los Angeles. Last, my niece and her boyfriend drove in from Phoenix. On December 23, I hosted a belated Thanksgiving dinner, since we weren’t all together on that holiday. Let’s check those totals: for dinner we had thirteen adults, two children, and seven dogs. Chaos? You betcha! A great time and laughs had by all? For sure! The evening was filled with lots of food and lively discussion We enjoyed some delicious meals with a few of us taking turns to cook. We began with that full-on Thanksgiving-style meal. One night, my daughter-in-law, Rachel, made a divine beef Bourguignon and another night a thick vegetarian chili. My son Ben made the best chicken enchiladas ever, my brother-in-law Ronnie prepared his famous spaghetti and giant meatballs, and my sister Marcia made spinach pie with both yuca and potato latkes. I “threw together” cured standing rib roast with honey cumin carrots and mashed Yukon golds with caramelized onions. Don’t ask! Our breakfasts were equally doted over: fresh blueberry pancakes, baked French toast with apricots, sun-dried tomato, spinach and mushroom frittata, eggs in the basket and breakfast burritos. Do we love to cook? Do we love to eat? Can you tell?! What struck me most after the last of the family left on January 2 was the massive amount of food we had gone through plus the mountains of tumbleweed dog hair left behind. The fur balls everywhere is for another column. In the aftermath, what I’d like to address is food consumption and replacement. In two weeks, we went through 11 dozen eggs, 8 pounds of coffee, and 15 pounds of dog food. That’s for starters. My entire pantry was obliterated. As most of you know (if you’re a new reader, check out my first column…), I always have a prepared, well-stocked pantry, freezer, and fridge. This cooking/eating binge wiped me out! Back to the drawing board (and the grocery store). I surveyed my main storage areas: fresh food, frozen items, and dry goods. I began with dairy. We already know we had no eggs left. This is going to require a list: Eggs Milk, creamer Cheeses: Parmesan, cheddar, feta, cottage Yogurt Butter, margarine Produce: Salad greens Onions, garlic, potatoes Carrots Celery Green vegetables (broccoli, green beans) Proteins: Meats (tofu for vegetarians) Chicken Fish/shellfish Was my pantry depleted, too? I needed to check my absolute must-haves: Canned tomatoes Olive oil/vegetable oil Vinegars Baking ingredients: flours and sugars Nuts Rice and legumes Pastas I scrutinized my remaining supplies and made a list of what was missing. I went to three stores to procure the necessities: Trader Joe’s, my local grocery store, and a Mexican specialty store. When in season, I’m able to go to the farmers’ market to gather produce. But this time of year, it is slim pickings. What a relief to be restocked! I palpitate when my pantry isn’t in order. This comes from years of running a commercial kitchen when it was oh so inconvenient if one ran out of an ingredient mid-prep. Now, what to make for a post-holiday meal? I am “meated out.” I normally don’t eat that much beef but, hey, it was the holidays, and we seem to go off course of our usual eating habits. I’ve decided on a mixed rice and vegetable bowl. Of course, there are many variations of grain bowls. Feel free to swap out or add to any of the ingredients. These are just suggestions. Let us know here at The Insider how your post-holiday week went. Were you wiped out and wiped out? Mixed Rice and Veggie Bowl Yield: 6 servings 3 Tbsp. fresh lime juice 1/2 tsp. cumin 1/2 tsp. coriander 1/4 tsp. cayenne 1/4 tsp. salt 1 c. plain Greek yogurt 1/4 c. fresh chopped cilantro leaves 1 English cucumber diced into 1/4” pieces 2 med. carrots, peeled 1/3 c. water 1/3 c. white vinegar 1 1/2 tsp. sugar 1/4 tsp. salt 1 1/2 c. frozen roasted corn, defrosted 1 pt. cherry tomatoes, cut in half 2-3 ripe avocados, sliced lengthwise 6 lg. eggs handful cilantro sprigs (garnish) 4 c. water 2 c. white and wild rice mix 1 tsp. salt In a medium bowl, mix together the lime juice, cumin, coriander, cayenne, and salt. Stir until dissolved. Blend in the yogurt. Add chopped cilantro and cucumbers. Cover; leave at room temperature for about 1 hour. Lay a carrot on your work surface. Using a sharp peeler, press down on one end of the carrot and peel away from you in one long strip. Continue until you have 1 1/2 c. packed carrot ribbons. In a small saucepan, heat the water, vinegar, sugar, and salt. Bring to a boil; boil 30 seconds. Turn heat off. Add the carrot ribbons and allow to pickle for 1 hour. Bring 4 cups water and salt to a boil. Stir in the rice. Bring to a boil; cover and turn down to a simmer for 30 minutes. Turn heat off and let sit for 10 minutes, covered. Bring a medium saucepan to a boil. Add a good pinch of salt and a splash of white vinegar. Break 1 egg into a small bowl. Create a whirlpool in the pan with a fork and quickly drop the egg into the center. Continue cooking for 2-3 minutes. Lift egg out with a slotted spoon, drain on a paper towel. Repeat with remaining eggs. To keep the poach eggs hot: Leave in a large shallow pan filled with water at 150°. Or, if you have a multiple egg poacher, use that instead. Portion out 1 1/2 c. cooked rice into each pasta bowl. Drizzle 2 Tbsp. of pickling liquid on the rice. Arrange the cucumbers, corn, carrot ribbons, tomatoes, and avocados around the edge of each bowl. Lay a poached egg in the center. Garnish with cilantro leaves. Serve at room temperature. Bonnie Fishman attended the Cordon Bleu Cookery School in London. Later, she owned and operated Bonnie’s Patisserie in Southfield, Mich. and Bonnie’s Kitchen and Catering in Bloomfield Hills, Mich. She has taught cooking for over 35 years and created hundreds of recipes. She is now living in Northern California.

By Naomi Serviss / New York City Huzzah! New York recently approved a statewide law banning pet stores from selling dogs, cats and rabbits. It was signed on December 15th, but won’t take effect until 2024. The goal is not only to shutter puppy mills but to discourage abusive breeders from proliferating, and to encourage pet adoption from reputable, nonprofit rescue organizations. The law might not shut down all the tyrants and animal abusers, but it should slow down the process. Those searching for a particular breed will often pay upwards of thousands to satisfy their quest. How about we all adopt instead? Those searching for the perfect pet may not find it at a shelter, but who needs perfection? If you’re on the prowl for an adoptable pet, and willing to put in the time, there will (eventually) be a payoff. It’s just a matter of patience. Lots and lots of patience. It won’t be easy. I write from experience. It took me more than a year trolling Petfinder (the main source for dogs), the ASPCA and other rescue groups to finally be approved and land a suitable pet for our one-bedroom apartment. Serendipity brought Petunia to us, thanks to a friend who suggested contacting the New York Humane Society. That’s where 11 years ago, she had found Porter, her beloved lab mix. Animal-welfare advocates are celebrating the state ban. Responsible pet owners are as well, because it’s devastating (speaking for myself) to see tiny kittens and puppies cavorting in pet store windows. “Dogs, cats and rabbits across New York deserve loving homes and humane treatment,” said New York Governor Kathy Hochul upon signing the bill. There are about 10,000 U.S. puppy mills, some infamous for their alleged canine abuse. Fewer than 3,000 of puppy mills are regulated by the U.S. Department of Agriculture. Commercial breeding facilities churn out puppies at a breakneck pace. Breeder dogs often have litters before grown. Neglected and abused dogs are the norm. It’s not a pretty picture. Dogs are sold in nefarious ways: to pet stores, online and direct-to-public through flea markets or classified ads (like Craigslist). These outlets show little to no regard for the animals’ well-being, according to the U.S. Humane Society. In my humble opinion, it’s a no-brainer that pets should be adopted from rescue nonprofits. During the dawn of the three-year pandemic, lonely hearts sought furry companions to make hibernating less formidable. Everyone had the same idea at once, resulting in a veritable wealth of needy humans who soon tired of dog or cat ownership responsibilities and gave up their once-beloved pets. There was a flood of returnees. Adoption agencies became even more stringent, setting the application bar even higher. Some places required a home visit or at least a video. At least three references had to pass muster. No one wants ethically owned pet stores to go belly-up. Pet owners need pet stores (virtual or brick and mortar) for food, treats, toys, harnesses and whatnot. Snake owners, for example, rely on an endless supply of live prey. My friend’s daughters have one (named Toast), among other amphibious, reptilian creatures and of course, their pet rats. Susie and her family’s creatures are loved, nurtured pets and I didn’t ask my country friend what they feed their menagerie. Some things are best unknown. Admittedly, I’m addicted to Chewy.com, which has numerous brands of pet food and all the goodies to boot. But it is important to support local business, including pet stores. One day, strolling on a nearby avenue, I stopped into the modest (non-animal-selling) Pet Central store. Turns out not only did they stock a particular brand my finicky eater enjoys, but they deliver! Chewy is not the only game in town after all. The state ban does not foretell bankrupt pet shops. They won’t drift away like fish food tossed in the air. The ethical ones will have no problem complying with the law, if they haven’t already. It won’t bar shops from displaying those proverbial doggies in the window (try not to sing it). Au contraire, retailers are encouraged to work with rescue groups who will show ready-to-adopt companion animals. Win/Win! Dog and cat breeders, who are not banned under this regulation, are dissuaded from committing abuses by the legislation. Strict requirements need to be met for them to maintain licenses. People will be encouraged to adopt rather than buy, but if they do buy, it will be from reputable breeders instead of pet stores. Hopefully. Once, when I was about 10, I stopped in front of a pet-selling store on one of my wanderings. I was a free-range kid in hand-me-downs and thin, off-brand sneakers traipsing down a gritty Philadelphia street. I entered. In the back of the disorganized shop, were an assortment of cages, a few kittens in each. My heart fluttered when I spotted a mewing motley-colored kitten whose paws were so tiny they went through the cage floor. I needed to rescue that little thing. Mustering up courage with a side of chutzpah, I nervously approached the owner, with no money, but with an offer he couldn’t refuse, I hoped. It was put on the table: I would clean cat cages for three hours. In exchange, he would gift me the kitten. A barterer was born. Three exhausting hours later, the multi-colored kitten was safely tucked into my oversized coat pocket. I knew Motley would be welcomed because my mother had an affinity for kittens. (Children she was less crazy about, but that’s fodder for another column.) Motley graced my life for a too short while, her mischievous personality and loving nuzzles forever etched in my memory. Cats filled my life from early childhood on. Dogs came into play when my kids (Emmy always clamored for a canine) were old enough to take care of a furry friend. Our shift from cat adoption (allergic husband) to dogs eventually led to encounters with New York animal adoption agencies. It ended with New York’s Humane Society. Petunia was a cute name for our two-year-old, 10-pound Maltese from the Humane Society-- but it was my husband’s nickname for our daughter Emmy. No dice. My friend Janice had suggested the Humane Society. Janis was also my maternal grandmother’s name and my late sister Rachel’s middle name. It was a no-brainer. Petunia became Janis Joplin, my rockstar rescue, and she learned her name in no time. Janis has been with us since November 2021 and I count my lucky stars we landed such a pearl. Naomi Serviss is a New York-based award-winning journalist whose work has been published in The New York Times, Newsday, The Philadelphia Inquirer, Highroads (AAA magazine), in-flight publications, spa and travel magazines and websites, including BroadwayWorld.com

By John Rolfe / Red Hook, N.Y. Like many people, I am absolutely gobsmacked that Republican George Santos was elected to represent Long Island’s Third Congressional District despite larding his résumé with lies. These aren’t just little, garden variety embellishments. They are triple whoppers with stinky cheese topped by thick slices of BS bacon. Santos claimed his grandparents survived the Holocaust as Ukrainian Jewish refugees, that he attended Baruch College and New York University and has a degree, that he worked for Citigroup and Goldman Sachs, and that he ran a nonprofit organization to help animals. All of that, and much, much more, is false. It’s dismaying enough that no one, particularly the media and his Democratic opponent, Robert Zimmerman, thought to look into Santos’ background well before people went to the polls. It’s utterly amazing and absolutely dismaying that Santos thought no one would come forward from one of his supposed alma maters or places of employment or even his own family and say, “This guy is full of horsefeathers.” Then again, we live in an age when pointing out someone’s flagrant falsehoods and misrepresentations is stoutly defended with the response that the revelation is merely a partisan and purely political attack. We have Donald J. Trump to thank for that. He’s a master of deflection and of rallying his base to What-About-ism and Two-wrongs-make-a-right-ism. Besides the standard comeback of “Biden lies” — the grotesque Marjorie Taylor Greene even trotted out the canard that “the left” lied about the manner of George Floyd’s death — I’ve seen reader comments on Facebook to the effect that Santos should still serve in the House because Democrats failed to detect his malarkey in time. Never mind that he is a fraud of highly questionable character. Politics has always been a manure and hypocrisy factory, but until Trump came along, we could expect at least some attempt at camouflage and perfume. His boast about being able to shoot someone on Fifth Ave. and not lose votes, and his behavior in and out of office, proves that if you have enough political and financial support, you can say and do anything and hold elected office. It’s really just a matter of continuing to win, baby. The days when getting caught in a fib or extramarital affair would sink a political career now seem a quaint relic from Mayberry R.F.D. So I guess it shouldn’t be a shock that Santos thought he could get away with serving up wholesale baloney. He even, without irony, claimed to be “the embodiment of the American Dream.” But there was a period of a few quiet days between the disclosure of his bushwah and the increasingly angry reaction when it was stunningly possible that he would evade punishment and serve his term. With the GOP holding the majority in the House, the chance of two-thirds of its members voting to expel Santos is much less likely to happen than pot-bellied pigs piloting F-16 fighter jets. Now, however, federal, state and county prosecutors are investigating. And Santos may have run afoul of the False Statements Act that sent Martha Stewart to luxe accommodations in a hoosegow. Even the GOP, which gleefully raised $250 million off of Trump’s Big Lie about election fraud, is starting to realize that the party’s reputation as the Home of the Whopper is not attracting voters who are fed up with the party’s Machiavellian, anti-Democratic, we-don’t-need-no-stinkin’-facts ways. “As a Navy man who campaigned on restoring accountability and integrity to our government, I believe a full investigation by the House Ethics Committee and, if necessary, law enforcement, is required,” GOP Rep.-elect Nick LaLota (NY-1) said in a statement. In the meantime, Kevin McCarthy (who needs Santos’ vote in order to become Speaker of the House) remains — gasp! — conspicuously silent and Santos is refusing to step aside. The more I see of Santos, the more he reminds me of John Spano, the pathetic con man who nearly succeeded in convincing the National Hockey League to sell him the New York Islanders for $165 million in 1996. When Spano kited down payment checks, the NHL was caught with its trousers down around its tassled loafers, having failed to do due diligence that would have quickly revealed cobwebs and not a business fortune. However, Spano ended up serving a six-year prison stretch for bank fraud and, years later, another 10 for forgery. As Spano so aptly noted, "You ride in the right circles and people just stop asking questions.” It remains to be seen what, if anything, will happen to Santos. Hucksters are always out there, but these days are such that they feel free to be much more brazen. I thank Donald Trump for that. John Rolfe is a former senior editor for Sports Illustrated for Kids, a longtime columnist for the Poughkeepsie Journal/USA Today Network, and author of The Goose in the Bathroom: Stirring Tales of Family Life. His school bus drivin’ blog “Hellions, Mayhem and Brake Failure” is parked on his website Celestialchuckle.com (https://celestialchuckle.com) with the meter running.

By Jessie Seigel / Washington, D.C. George Devolder-Santos could give the great mythical liar Baron Munchausen a run for his money. Since Santos’ November 8th win making him the Republican Representative for New York’s Third Congressional District (covering parts of Long Island and Queens), it has been revealed that just about every single statement in Santos’ résumé is a lie. Apparently, Santos began his career in fraud early. In 2008, he used a checkbook stolen from his mother’s employer and a false name to make $700 in purchases at a small clothing store in Brazil. He later admitted to the crime, but Brazilian authorities, unable to find him, suspended the case for many years. Alerted by the recent media hubbub about Santos, Brazil has just reinstated the charge. Among his many recent fabrications, Santos claimed he worked at Citigroup and Goldman Sachs, and that he had a degree in economics and finance from Baruch College. The truth is that Santos has not graduated from college. According to the New York Times, he has a high school equivalency diploma. Santos also claimed he was Jewish with family members who fled the Holocaust. Santos is a Catholic. (Santos tried to get out of that obnoxious fib with the risible assertion that he did not say he was Jewish, but Jew-ish.) In addition, Santos pretended to own 13 rental properties. However, the New York Times was unable to find records of those properties—neither documents nor deeds connected to Santos. On the other hand, there are records showing Santos has been evicted twice. In November 2015, he was sued successfully for $2,250 in unpaid rent. And in May 2017, he was accused of owing $10,000 in rent for a five-month period, and that one of his rent checks had bounced. An eviction warrant was issued and Santos was fined $12,208. According to the New York Post, Santos now lives at his sister’s home. When George Santos first ran for the House (and lost) in 2020, he reported earning $55,000 in salary, commissions, and bonuses, as a vice president of LinkBridge Investors, which purportedly connected investors with fund managers. He did not declare any other financial assets. Yet, only two years later, in 2022, Santos claimed to be the owner and managing member of the Devolder Organization, an investment firm supposedly managing at least $80 million in client assets. He asserted he was making a $750,000 salary, had dividends between $1 million and $5 million, and had loaned $700,000 to his own campaign. However, according to Rolling Stone, the firm has no website or LinkedIn page, and Santos did not list any clients of the firm on his campaign disclosure forms. This failure appears to have violated a requirement that candidates disclose compensation exceeding $5,000 from a single source. Which raises the question: where did that $700,000 so-called loan to his campaign come from? According to the New York Post, Santos has dismissed his many lies with the words: “My sins here are embellishing my résumé.” Clearly the man doesn’t know the difference between exaggeration of the truth—a bit of puffery—and plain, outright lying with specific intent to deceive the public. Santos’ many lies and financial inconsistencies could simply make his constituents angry and the public roll its eyes over the exposure of yet another Republican liar. Not to mention the national Republican party’s continued refusal to express any censure of Santos along with the many other miscreants in its ranks. The public could see any illegalities wrapped up in his lies as merely matters to be pursued by prosecutors. But the harm Representative Santos potentially could do to the nation when he takes his seat in Congress this week goes far beyond conning his constituents in order to obtain his position—or any laws he may have broken with his lies. After the invasion of Ukraine earlier this year, the would-be congressman told the Washington Post: “It’s not like Ukraine is a great democracy. It’s a totalitarian regime. They’re not a great bastion of freedom.” Santos also spouted Putin’s party line that Ukraine “welcomed the Russians into their provinces” and that Ukrainians in the east “feel more Russian than Ukrainian.” Ordinarily, one might figure that the man is entitled to his opinion—unless it is more than just an opinion. As reported by The Daily Beast, at the time when Santos made these statements, he had already received $32,800 from Andrew Intrater, who manages the investments of his cousin Viktor Vekselberg. Vekselberg, who was sanctioned by the U.S., is one of Putin’s wealthiest and most influential oligarchs. Vekselberg was a person of interest in the Mueller investigation. And according to The Daily Beast, he “had ties to an investment group bidding on a highly sensitive project for the Pentagon.” All told, including contributions to auxiliary committees, Intrater, a possible intermediary for Vekselberg, provided around $56,000 to Santos’ 2022 House run. (And this does not include $11,600 contributed to Santos for his losing 2020 campaign or $20,000 contributed to a PAC.) In addition, Former FBI agent Peter Strzok told the Raw Story news website that Santos received “at least $2,690 from Len Blavatnick, another close associate of Vekselberg.” Though some might call this evidence circumstantial and any conclusions speculative, it looks to me like Putin and his oligarch may have been trying to buy George Devolder-Santos’ vote on any future proposed aid to Ukraine. In addition, Dan Meyer, a former Pentagon official, has expressed concerns about Santos obtaining access to classified information. Meyer told the New York Post, “What really worries me as a security professional is that $700,000.” In other words, could that $700,000 campaign self-loan based on assets of a company with no identified clients have come from the Russians as well? Meyer added that this question is especially urgent because of technological advances: “This is not the 1970s, where it’ll take weeks for the stuff to kind of bumble along. Even if you were going to betray the country back then, you had to figure out a way to contact the Russians. But now, it can happen at a moment’s notice.” An even more worrying question comes to mind: if it turns out that Santos has been compromised—how many other Congressional members may also have been compromised by Putin or his oligarchs? While any American has a right to contribute to any candidate for office, foreign financial influence in our elections is a continuing threat to our democracy. The crucial question is: will the 2023 Republican-held House address this concern—especially as related to George Santos? I wouldn’t hold my breath. Political columnist Jessie Seigel had a long career as a government attorney in which she honed her analytic skills. She has also twice received an Artist’s Fellowship from the Washington, D.C. Commission on the Arts and Humanities for her fiction, and has been a finalist for a number of literary awards. In addition, Seigel is an associate editor at the Potomac Review, a reviewer for The Washington Independent Review of Books, and a dabbler in political cartoons at Daily Kos. Of this balance in her work between the analytic and the imaginative, Seigel jokes, “I guess my right and left brains are well-balanced.” More on and from Seigel can be found at The Adventurous Writer, https://www.jessieseigel.com.