For the holiday season, I have decided to turn over a new leaf and be helpful to Trump. I know; it’s such a departure for me, but as this investigation drones on and his fate takes a bleak turn, I think I can help him make the transition from Leader of the Free World to Leader of Cell Block D. You might say, “What gives you the right to offer counsel on prison life?” Let the jaws drop, but here it goes: I’ve been in prison—a men’s prison.
Okay, not as a resident or as a fiancé of a felon with conjugal rights, but the state prison was part of my beat as a reporter so I spent some time on the inside. And between you and me, it takes just one lockdown to make you appreciate life on the outside.
So, let’s get on with my Christmas charity before I change my mind. In the not-so-distant future Trump and his family might find themselves—how shall we say it—experiencing an unfortunate period of incarceration, I thought it would be a nice gesture to give them some practical tips on passing the time.
Don’t talk about your Ivy League educations, your mansions in Florida and NYC or your many buildings that required you to evict the elderly and poor so you can live in those mansions in Florida and NYC: To be blunt, some of those people you evicted are probably sharing shower space with you now. It’s best just to tell them you lived in a three-bedroom split level on Long Island and let them think you are one of the real people.
Color your hair or better yet, let it go gray: Donald, that orange-yellow hue on your do, is not a good look for prison. It’s over the top and gets a lot of attention and the last thing you want in prison is to be the center of attention. Try to blend. In fact, that should be your new mantra.
Don’t say the words “Believe me.” You say these words a lot, but you are a rank amateur in spouting this phrase next to the accomplished criminals you will see day in and day out. If you say “Believe me” and they do, and they find out you lied, you better pray that a few of the prison guards voted for you.
Get used to days with no golf. While you might not be able to play 18 holes, prisons do have something called “the hole.” Okay, it’s not quite the same as Maralago, but, criminals can’t be choosy about their digs.
If by any chance you can room with Donald Jr. or Eric, you might want to bring up how your boys love to kill big game for the hell of it. Bragging rights on killing innocent animals might give your sons some serious cred, and while this might not help you initially, it might help them get into the cool prison gang. And if they are in the cool gang, you might be safe by association.
Don’t talk about Billy Bush or anything associated with your womanizing and sexist ways. Those who are in prison might want to try out your techniques for romantic conquests on you.
Don’t talk how you were the best at anything. Boasting about your life on the outside will not sit well with the inmate leaders or their loyal followers. Fighting off congress is a piece of cake (which you will rarely eat by the way) next to fighting off a 6’5” convicted murderer who spends his day bench pressing 450 pounds.
Get used to prison food. This is where the cake comes in. There is not a lot of fun food. You might get something that looks like KFC, but you will only get one helping. Hey, tax dollars pay for your meals and since you cut prison budgets, you get what you get.
It might be helpful to find God. I heard he lives there. From my experience talking with inmates, everyone finds him in prison. He might not be thrilled to see you. You have been a dick to the people he cares about most. But he might throw you a pittance of pity. Good luck! Maybe I’ll swing by and visit.