Andiamo

130.

I have always felt that a special place in Hell exists exclusively for those that abuse the power of office for personal gain. That the current administration actually encourages overt political manipulation, most often at the expense of the very people they vowed to protect, is something I find appalling at best and criminal at worst. Over the course of my career I have given every politician, officer, agent and representative an option: You can show me that you are authentic, honest and sincere in the intent and performance of your duties and your fair distribution of benefits and assistance across the board and be an ally, or you can blame the innocent, damage the integrity of the impoverished and exploit those who differ by race, age, color, gender, status, party affiliation or religious preference and quickly become a foe. Despite the softball wording in our code of ethics in regard to a neutral bipartisan demeanor, I consider this to be a basic part of my being and therefore inseparable by term and condition. It is who I am. 

I gave this same option to the senior Senator from South Carolina, Jefferson Hartaugh (R). Hartaugh, a third generation career politician, with a county named for his grand-daddy. He is one of those phonies who promise everything and deliver nothing. Every time we had met in the past at official, and a few informal, gatherings I would check my wrist after shaking his hand to ensure that I still had my watch. His policies on gerrymandering, voter suppression, intimidation and voter purging, as well as his personal credo to keep educational opportunities limited and outrageously expensive, created a senatorial safe haven for his racism and bigotry. As a result of this he was systematically banished to my short list of cads, a ranking he appeared to be intent of proving accurate. 

We finish the impromptu business luncheon and TOM makes a rather sudden segue to his personal plans. He shares with us the rather interesting news that he will be taking a brief vacation, sailing his boat to the Caribbean for five days beginning tomorrow. In his absence Julie will assume the duties of his office. He assures us that they will hold nightly recaps and he that is always accessible by phone should the necessity arise. He asks us to each drop by his office sometime tomorrow to pickup a specially prepared document outlining the latest assignment we discussed over the caviar and salad. 

Almost as quickly as he presented the grandiose operation overview, he was entering into a DC Cab and bidding us each adieu. Harlan does likewise leaving Julie and I alone once again on the suddenly aeolian afternoon. 

“Congratulations on the promotion,” I say with sincerity. She looks at me to gauge my intentions, instantly reaching the conclusion that sarcasm or envy is not among them.

“Thanks, we have been taking about it for some time now, and I think he sees this as a trail run of sorts. He feels that the time is right for us all to take a breather and recharge batteries.” 

“Do you know what is in the packets?” 

“Yes,” she says matter-of-factly.

“Care to offer a sneak preview? I’m a little concerned about a few of the details.” 

“Sure I don’t see why not, they are at the office, we could go over right now if that would help calm your concerns, but I will tell you right now that it is all business as usual.” 

“Andiamo.”