“There’s a guy named John Birch, like the tree, he says,” Gretchen told me early on Friday. “He’s asking for one of your free initial consultations – on the phone. He’s called twice this week already, trying to get an appointment earlier than the first week in March.”
“John Birch, huh?” I responded. “Sounds like some Republican trying to use a clever alias.”
“Alias?” Gretchen said, scrunching her nose up in a characteristic cute gesture emulating her reaction to barnyard ammonia fumes at the farm she grew up on in Pennsylvania Dutch country. “What’s clever about somebody calling themselves John Birch instead of their real name?”
“I said he’s trying to be clever,” I pointed out, “not actually doing it. See if you can work him in around lunch.”
“Okay,” she chirped with a shrug and an indifferent toss of her hair as she exited my office. “Was the real John Birch famous or something?”
“Famous in certain circles,” I told her, “for getting killed by Chinese Communists during a spy mission.”
“Damn,” she remarked as she pulled open one of the heavy oak doors leading to the reception area, “some people will do anything for attention.”
Birch: Hello, good morning. This is John Birch.
Tom: And this is Thomas Paine.
Birch: Excuse me?
Tom: Oh, right – let’s make that Tom Collins. I understand you’re interested in receiving one of my free initial consultations?
Birch: Yes, I am. By the way, why do you do that?
Tom: Marketing, pure and simple. It’s a very effective way to grow my paying client base.
Birch: Your paying client base? You mean, there are people who actually write checks to you for nothing but your advice, dispensed at astronomical hourly rates?
Tom: Well, not all of them are people as such, of course. Most of them are… various organizations… and their accounting departments write the checks.
Birch: And the ones that are, in fact, people?
Tom: Most pay me by check or credit card, but some of them actually give me cash. Others pay in gold, platinum, silver, gem stones, bearer bonds, negotiable securities or Bitcoin and so forth, depending.
Birch: Depending on what?
Tom: Depending on what kind of client they are.
Birch: I see. And I suppose your reputation as the most intelligent individual in Washington DC has something to do with it?
Tom: Maybe.
Birch: Tell me, what’s it like, anyhow, being the smartest person inside the Beltway?
Tom: It’s like being the tallest building in Baltimore.
Birch: Baltimore? Democrat machine politics at its worst! Massive voter fraud all over the place! I hear that every cemetery in the city went one hundred percent for Hillary Clinton!
Tom: Proving, perhaps, that dead Baltimorons have more sense than live voters in Wisconsin and Michigan. In any case, Mr. Birch, how can I be of assistance?
Birch: It’s… um… ah… how shall I put this? I’m… concerned… about Sean Spicer losing his job.
Tom: Do you mean that you’re worried about Sean Spicer being replaced as White House Communications Director or you’re worried about him being replaced as White House Press Secretary?
Birch: Uh… both, really. But mostly I’m worried about the Press Secretary position.
Tom: What are you worried about?
Birch: That Sean Spicer might get replaced by… um… by me.
Tom: Sir, although an official list of potential candidates to take over from Sean Spicer as White House Press Secretary hasn’t been released, I am aware that one exists. Consequently, forgive me for asking: are you saying your name is on it?
Birch: Right, that’s what I’m saying. I’m on it.
Tom: In that case, Mr. Birch, I would note for your consideration, my most recent copy of that list dates from the day before yesterday. Therefore, I can only assume that your name has been added since then.
Birch: Yeah, okay, fine, let’s assume that – take my word for it, Mr. Collins, I can assure you I am under serious consideration as the individual who will replace Sean Spicer as White House Press Secretary.
Tom: Well, anyway, it’s not too surprising that they’re looking for someone. Between the way he behaves at press conferences and the way late night television makes fun of him doing it, Spicer is a quintessential embarrassment. Most folks here inside the Beltway were thinking Spicer would be the first to go, actually. But that was before the Kelly fiasco, naturally. Still, it’s common knowledge that Spicer’s head will roll – eventually, if not pretty soon. And correct me if I’m wrong, but it certainly sounds like you’re fretting about how it might be you who gets picked to take over for him.
Birch: Fretting? I’m terrified!
Tom: Of being White House Press Secretary?
Birch: Absolutely.
Tom: How about White House Communications Director?
Birch: To tell the truth, I’m not quite as terrified of doing that.
Tom: Okay, then, on a scale of one to ten, where one is, “completely serene, eating an ice cream cone on a park bench during a warm, sunny day,” and ten is, “gripped by fear to the point of losing control of your bodily functions, as hundreds of starving rats are released to feed on your chained, naked body,” where does your apprehension of a position as the White House Communications Director fall?
Birch: Uh… about an eight, I guess.
Tom: And how about White House Press Secretary?
Birch: Does that scale have an eleven on it?
Tom: It can have a twelve if you like.
Birch: Okay, twelve – and a half.
Tom: Why, I wonder, are you so… concerned? And what in your background and experience would cause you to merit consideration in the first place?
Birch: All right, for starters, I’m well known in the media business.
Tom: Excuse me, but I’ve never heard of a “John Birch” who works in media.
Birch: Take my word for it! I’m well-known, okay?
Tom: Very good, sir, I take your word for it – you are well-known in media. What else?
Birch: I’m a highly respected conservative commentator…
Tom: A highly respected conservative commentator that, curiously, I have never heard of.
Birch: And again, take my word for it, if you don’t mind!
Tom: Sure. You’re a well-known media figure and respected conservative commentator whose real name is “John Birch.”
Birch: Never mind what my real name is! If your advice proves useful, you have my word as a life-long Republican I will subsequently book at least one ninety-minute consultation with you.
Tom: Of course, Mr. Birch. If one can’t trust a life-long Republican, whom can they trust? Please, continue.
Birch: Ahem… yes, well, in addition to being a life-long Republican, media figure and commentator, I have also been the chairman of the journalism department at a major university, served as a partner in a world-renowned New York public relations firm, and worked as a media consultant and spokesperson on the senate and presidential campaigns of several prominent Republican candidates.
Tom: So your presence on the list of potential replacements for either of Sean Spicer’s positions is entirely plausible, to say the least.
Birch: Entirely too plausible!
Tom: And it sounds like you’d rather drink a gallon of fresh, warm hyena vomit than have either job.
Birch: Two gallons! For God’s sake, Collins, help me! How the hell can I get out of this?
Tom: Well, you could just say you decline. Trump has already selected Vice Admiral Robert Harward to be National Security Adviser and been told no. As a matter of fact, Admiral Harward likened serving as National Security Adviser for the Trump administration to eating a fecal matter sandwich.
Birch: Harward is retired! He can afford to speak the truth. I’ve still got years of my career ahead of me. There’s no way I can politely decline if I’m asked, much less tell the president of the United States that explaining his inchoate policies, insane pronouncements and demented actions to the world would like licking out the toilet bowls in a nightclub after a two-week reggae festival, every horrible, wretched, stinking day!
Tom: So you’re saying, if you are selected to replace Spicer, it would be too late – what you need is a way to guarantee you’ll never even be asked.
Birch: Uh… yeah, I guess so. That would do it. Ah… what would you suggest?
Tom: Do you have a condominium or do you live in a detached single family unit?
Birch: Traditional suburban home. Six bedrooms, five and one half baths. Three car garage.
Tom: You have a big lawn, then? A party garden with a gazebo, perhaps? Rose beds? Landscaping? Decorative borders? Imported slate flagstone walkways? Seasonal plantings?
Birch: All of those.
Tom: Pool?
Birch: Oh, yeah.
Tom: Who takes care of them?
Birch: A local lawn and property maintenance firm.
Tom: And who does the housework?
Birch: You mean, the cleaning and laundry and such?
Tom: Yeah.
Birch: We have a maid service.
Tom: And these service companies you use. Do they have background checks on all employees?
Birch: Of course.
Tom: Bonded?
Birch: Naturally.
Tom: Okay, how about meals?
Birch: Well, we usually dine out.
Tom: How often?
Birch: Six or seven nights a week. And we eat lunch at restaurants during the week, too, of course.
Tom: What about the meals at home?
Birch: When we’re at home, I usually do most of the cooking. I’m a gourmet chef, you see. I actually took lessons. And my wife makes breakfast and the occasional a midnight snack.
Tom: Any children?
Birch: Two.
Tom: Ages?
Birch: Three and five.
Tom: Who takes care of them?
Birch: My wife’s mother. She lives with us.
Tom: You live with your mother-in-law?
Birch: She and my wife are very close, and she loves her grandchildren – dotes on them, in fact.
Tom: All right, this is going to be tougher than I thought, but here’s what you’ll have to do. First, I’m going to send you a list of numbers to call. The people at those numbers provide property maintenance, lawn and garden care, pool services, housework and cooking staff, au pairs, nannies and senior citizen residences.
Birch: Senior citizen residences?
Tom: I assume your mother-in-law is a senior citizen of some sort, is she not?
Birch: Yes, but…
Tom: There are no “buts” about it, Mr. Birch. You must move your mother-in-law out of the house, and, preferably, into one of the senior citizen residences on the list I will provide. Then, you will hire staff for all your current ongoing indoor and outdoor household maintenance services from the providers on that list, after which you will hire a cook, a maid, a nanny and an au pair.
Birch: What… what will the cook do? As I said, we eat out most of the time and…
Tom: The cook will prepare your breakfast and midnight snacks, as well as the two or three meals a day your children require which your mother-in-law is currently providing. You can’t expect the maid, the nanny or the au pair to cook for them, can you?
Birch: Um… no… I guess not.
Tom: Not to mention making three meals a day for that live-in maid, nanny and au pair.
Birch: Oh, right, them, too. Uh… what’s the point of all this?
Tom: The point is, Mr. Birch, I will personally guarantee that every telephone number on that list I give you connects with a somebody who will send one or more undocumented immigrants to work at your home.
Birch: Illegal aliens?
Tom: That’s right – illegal aliens working all over your house, inside and out. Illegal aliens mowing your lawn, cleaning your pool, blowing leaves off your driveway, planting seasonal decorative borders, spraying your roses for aphids, laying down peat moss and wood chips, sweeping out your gazebo, weeding your imported slate flagstone walkways – you name it. And inside your house, sir, there will be an illegal alien maid, an illegal alien cook, an illegal alien nanny and an illegal alien au-pair.
Birch: Oh, my God! What am I supposed to do then?
Tom: No, Mr. Birch, when all of this is in place, it will be what you won’t do that counts.
Birch: What I won’t do?
Tom: Precisely. What you won’t do is pay their Social Security taxes. And when that comes to light during your intense vetting for the posts of White House Communications Director and / or White House Press Secretary, I guarantee, someone else other than yourself will be selected for those Jobs From Hell to which you so desperately seek to avoid nomination.
Birch: What about the nursing home where I’m going to put my mother-in-law?
Tom: Call it frosting on the cake, Mr. Birch. Every single employee at that senior citizen residence will be an undocumented immigrant for whom not one penny in Social Security taxes has ever been paid!
Birch: Jesus Christ Almighty! What the hell do I do when all that stuff is found out?
Tom: Say you didn’t realize what was happening. Then apologize and pay the back taxes and fines.
Birch: What about the nursing home staff?
Tom: Ah, yes, as I said, the frosting on the cake. Send the IRS an additional amount equivalent to a fair portion of the back taxes and fines for the nursing home staff, prorated for the time they spent caring for your mother-in-law. Believe me, if you do that, you’ll look like a saint, and the public will not only extended their forgiveness, they will even go so far as to develop a sincere sympathy for you.
Birch: But… but… after that, I’ll never be able to get another job in the federal government!
Tom: Well, now, “never” is a pretty strong word to use, I think. I’d prefer to say it will effectively insulate you from having similar problems again until the end of the Trump administration. Which, really, is exactly what you’d like to have, isn’t it?
Birch: Uh… ah… oh, hell, yeah, I guess so.
Tom: Okay, good. Here’s what we’ll do. When we’re done, call back, give Gretchen an email address and ask her for a password. Write it down when she gives it to you. Later, at the email address you provide, you will receive a message with a password-protected attachment. Open it and print out the instructions. They will tell you how to set up a secure email account using proxies. When you have done that, call Gretchen again and give her the email address of the secure proxy account. I’ll use that address to send you the list of contacts to hire undocumented immigrants, and you can take it from there.
Birch: Uh, okay, I guess. Can I call Gretchen if I get stuck doing this email proxy stuff?
Tom: Yeah, sure. Just make certain to make all of your calls from a land line.
Birch: Right.
Tom: An untapped land line.
Birch: Uh… how do I make sure of that?
Tom: Call the telephone company and order a private line installed in your au-pair’s room. Use that to set everything up. Unless you’re under active federal or state investigation, the chances of a brand new land line acquired at your residence for a third party being tapped are virtually nil.
Birch: Oh, Jesus, this is getting scary.
Tom: All right then, forget about receiving the list of contacts from me over a secure channel and just start calling lawn services, maid services, nursing homes and so forth around where you live to hire the staff I recommended. Choose the ones where the person who answers the phone has either a Spanish, Hindu, Farsi, Arabic, Somali, Urdu, Polish, Russian, Czech, Romanian, Bulgarian, Slovakian, Slovenian, Serbo-Croatian, Ukrainian, Hungarian, Irish, Vietnamese, Chinese or Korean accent, and it’s dollars to doughnuts they’ll send over some nice illegal immigrants to work for you. All right?
Birch: Um, yeah, I guess so. Foreign accents, huh?
Tom: Basically. ‘Bye now.
Birch: Uh, okay, goodbye.