6 Month Funding Bill? Yes or No?

I called a couple of people in my posse at the end of last week because I had no idea whether Schumer was right to vote for the plan to avoid a shutdown or if the other Democrats stood tall and said, “It ends here. No more buts in our votes. It has to stop, and we must stand united,” we would be better off.

One of the smart people around me said, "Strong thinkers on the Hill disagreed on this. There was no ‘right’ answer."

But another argued that voting for the budget also meant voting to let this President continue his illegal actions—based on the misguided hope that maybe, this time, he’d do the right thing. How is that working for us? And why would we do that? Because we’re giving him what ensures the janitorial staff isn’t out of work. That’s who suffers in a shutdown. The hardworking, blue-collar government employees take the hit—while you and I, generally, do not.

For me, I think we should have shut it down. Faster than a tennis match at Wimbledon when the rain starts (They’d get the Wimbledon reference. They love ‘white’.)

Tough call. And it’s over, so no use hanging out in the question any longer. What’s done is done.

But for me, it leads back to my years-long disdain for Chuck Schumer. I’ve said it before: he is not a strategist for this moment in time. He’s weak. He’s not a planner. And the planning that was needed for what came to a head this week? It never happened.

What should have happened in my perfect world?

From the moment DT took office, there should have been two press conferences a week from different members of the caucus, just on this topic, demanding that the other side meet them at the table—each time outlining three non-negotiables.

• No lowering taxes for the rich. Nope. Not one percentage point.

• No cutting services for the middle class. (Stop calling it the poor; an older person in a home paid for by Medicaid is not on the dole.)

• No abolishing the debt ceiling. You can’t give DT a platinum credit card when he has zero credit. Nope. Not this time.

And over and over again, they should have said:

"The bill we are being asked to sign gives billions in tax breaks to the rich while sticking the middle class with the bill. Seventy-eight million people rely on Medicaid—it funds housing for our elderly and healthcare for our children. We will not pay for your yachts on the backs of our seniors and our youth. We will not. Oh, and there are two other deal breakers."

"Fix those, and we can talk. If not, you will be shutting down America.”

And then? We should have sent postcards to every American, and we should keep sending them weekly.

A red elephant on the front. A name designed to make the recipient think it came from the Republicans. This is no time for standing on ceremony.

"Why is DT betraying his promise? We don’t understand. Go to xxx.RepublicansUnite.org to find out what’s going off the tracks. But your Social Security and Medicare are on the chopping block. Let’s let him know."

Every house in America. With real stamps—so at least the post office could stay open.

For God’s sake, Blue Humans on the Hill, get your fucking acts together. Now. You blew this one, no matter how you slice it.

And Chuck? It’s time to step aside. Run to that podium. No more lunches with donors in New York City. You know who I mean. Run to the podium, my man, and say it’s time for another face at the podium—for the sake of democracy. I’ll make sure Eric Ripert gives you a table all your own at Le Bernardin every day you want one.

When I asked some friends over the weekend who should replace him, well… I’m not sure anyone knows. We have no bench. How is that possible, I hear you ask? I hear you. I see you. And there is no bench.

We need to fix that.

I’m mad as hell. Maybe mad is better than terrified? I hope so.

One more thing. Don’t you dare go home during the recess. Don’t any of you go home during the recess, and if you do, you better be giving speeches in your districts. In public. Daily. I’m going to keep tabs. Count on it.