Bloodbaths, Blunders, and Blowback

President Joe Biden speaks at Stupak Community Center on March 19, 2024, in Las Vegas, Nevada. Biden delivered remarks on making affordable housing more available for American families. (Photo by Ian Maule/Getty Images)


I’m writing from the parking lot of a La Quinta Inn in Aberdeen, Maryland. I’m headed north to deal with some family business from my mom’s estate tomorrow morning. I pulled over to write you this note and smoke a cigar in the process, or maybe vice versa. 

Such is the weirdness of the life I have chosen. If you told me 20 years ago that I’d be writing the last G-File before I turned 55 in the shadow of a hotel in a sketchy part of Aberdeen, Maryland, I might have made different choices. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I didn’t make those choices. I’m just noting that life isn’t planned, it’s lived. 

In case you didn’t know, I often park behind hotels like this, not just because you meet the most interesting people, but because there’s always one side of the building where you can easily park that provides shade, which I require to craft these epistles.

Speaking of said epistle, I’m going to write it like I’m living on a desert island in the South Pacific, spending my idle time constructing a replica of this very La Quinta Inn out of discarded plastic bottles and other detritus, flotsam, and jetsam that wash up on the beach. In other words, I will stitch it together as stuff comes to me. When I’m done, if it looks like a G-File—or a La Quinta Inn—great. If it doesn’t, my apologies in advance. Some days the tide brings you Happy Meal toys, sometimes it brings fully laden diapers. 

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