I will propose to her that we have a nice little meeting. My house. No complicated security codes to get past gates, no Ring-Bing cameras connected to Google algorithms, no Facebook admirers sending messages interrupting a conversation, no federal police or guard dogs outside, no surprises, no nothing, none. I will tell her that she can bring the wine vinified at her Napa Valley pad.
“The Pelosi estate on Zinfandel Lane, for example, is valued between $5,000,001 and $25 million, according to the records the congresswoman filed with the House clerk’s office for calendar year 2014. A description of the property posted on its architect’s website says it was inspired by Palladian villas and boasts a guesthouse and a “Z” shaped pool.” [blah, blah, blah] Los Angeles Times, JAVIER PANZAR Audience Engagement Assistant Editor! (l0l) www.latimes.com/politics/la-pol-ca-richest-nancy-pelosi-vineyard-story.html
Before she sips any of the good stuff, I will stand over her and, with a stern face, drop my college transcripts onto her lap, and say, “Look. Econ 1 … B, Econ 3 … A, Statistics … B. Now, let’s begin. If you have a question, speak clearly and keep your hands still!”
I might conclude our first tutoring session by saying that never once did I see her on the streets of San Francisco dealing with her subjects at two in the morning, and never once did I see any other politician, clergyman, or do-gooder.
“The people who deal with the down-and-out are police officers, EMTs, and emergency room doctors and nurses, Mrs. Pelosi, oh, excuse me, Your Highness. You sleep comfortably in your Pacific Heights home when not putting your facelift to bed in DC or St. Helena. Oh, you know what, you would be happier having a drink at the Newsom winery, PlumpJack, in Oakville. You are dismissed.”