I need to get this column written in a hurry. Any minute now, there should be a callback from my doctor about getting in this afternoon on an urgent basis. For about a week now, my neck snaps, crackles and pops as if an entire box of Rice Krispies were exploding at the same moment in my upper spine every time I shake my head. And, I’ve been shaking my head a lot this past week.
It started with that White House Correspondents’ Dinner. I have no bone to pick with Michelle Wolf. She went after almost everybody, including herself. Whether her humor was to your taste or not isn’t the point.
What caused my neck to snap was the tweet from Maggie Haberman of The New York Times. “That @PressSec sat and absorbed intense criticism of her physical appearance, her job performance, and so forth, instead of walking out, on national television, was impressive.”
Wake up, Maggie, I think I’ve got something to say to you. (It rarely gets better than Rod Stewart, does it?) Since your job performance depends entirely on reporting the truth and as there was no mention of Sarah Sander’s looks, what were you talking about? And the “so forth” you mention? Was that when Ms. Wolf called Ms. Sanders a liar? Oh, Maggie, I wish I’d never seen your tweet.
And then the next day, Andrea Mitchell decided to get in on it. “Apology is owed to @PressSec and others grossly insulted ny [sic]Michelle Wolf at White House Correspondents Assoc dinner. . .”
Really? Again, was that gross insult when Ms. Wolf called Ms. Sanders a liar? Well make up your mind, Andrea. Wasn’t it you on Hardball the very next day saying, in reference to the White House statement on Iran, “This is basically a lie about US intelligence. It’s stunning, from the White House!” When I saw Ms. Mitchell do that, I shook my head, and that’s when my neck crackled.
I saved Mika Brzezinski for last, as she deserves to be. Her tweet: “Watching a wife and mother be humiliated on national television for her looks is deplorable. . .” I don’t expect much from her anyway, so it wasn’t disappointing that she threw Ms. Sanders the wife and mother shield. (Cue Sean Spicer: “I’m a husband and father. Look what they did to me!”) And besides, Mika was probably smarting from Ms. Wolf’s comment about her “#MeToo that worked out” relationship with fiancé Joe Scarborough. But I shouldn’t be too harsh. After all, Mika’s twitter handle is @morningmika.
On the heels of all of this came the next round of headlines. “Stormy Daniels Files Defamation Lawsuit Against Donald Trump.” That was The New York Times, but it was virtually the same headline in most of the major media outlets. A porn star is suing the President of the United States for defamation. Snap. Crackle. Pop.
So when Rudolph Giuliani relayed the new (and improved?) story that the Stormy Daniels hush money was repaid by Trump to Michael Cohen, I just held my head in place. With both hands. The only thing that is clear about this case is who should be in the movie version. What do you think? William H. Macy as Trump, Steve Buscemi as Giuliani, and Peter Stormare as Cohen?
I’m still waiting on that call to see the doctor. But no television until then. No internet. No possible exposure to anything that’s happening. Because I just know the next step goes way past snap, crackle, and pop.
And I really don’t want to see my own ass.