Rudy’s Hair Dye Fail

Something very sad happened to Rudy Giuliani just a few days ago and I shed a tear for a man who once had been a great lawyer and a fine mayor.

Everyone knows that I have a deep, visceral, contempt for Donald Trump and every evil, conniving, self-centred, infantile, ungodly, sleazy thing about him. (Forgive me if I was too subtle.) But for his henchman, Rudy Giuliani, my feelings are more those of pity.

There was a time when Rudy Giuliani was America’s Mayor. In the aftermath of 911, Rudy stood tall for the people of his city– the Churchillian figure everyone needed at the time. And to be sure, his term of office as mayor of New York was, on balance, a good one.

But like most of us, there was more to Rudy than met the eye. In his private life, marriage after marriage dissolved in failure and his children remain estranged. Yet for all his troubled personal life, he seemed to cling to some higher purpose, morality and values, perhaps informed by his deep Catholic faith.

After his retirement, and with his enormous reputation, he went on the speaking circuit and for handsome fees dispensed a certain conservative wisdom.

But for reasons which escape us all, in his dotage Rudy threw himself at the feet of Donald Trump (never a wise move if you’re counting on a reciprocal loyalty). And as befits a reality-show president, the Donald accepted Rudy’s celebrity status as a substitute for any actual competence, which by now was far past best-before date. He made Rudy his Attack Puppy in Chief. Happy, wriggling, and waggy-tailed, Rudy raced around barking nonsense, nipping ankles and generally making a nuisance of himself, all in fawning devotion to his new master. I don’t get it. Do you?

Most recently, after an absence from the courtroom of nearly thirty years, Rudy showed up as lead counsel for the Donald’s failed election bid, babbling conspiracies unsupported by fact or law. It was cringeworthy. Lawyers looked away, and judges called him out.

Courtroom practice is not like riding a bicycle– you really do quickly forget a lot of important stuff, and of course, law and legal practice continue to move on even if you don’t. After six months, you’ve lost your edge, after a couple of years, you’re back to zero, and after thirty years you’re a menace to yourself and your client. I’ve no idea what Donnie and Rudy were thinking. Or weren’t.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. After running a circus-like news conference outside a porn shop, he went under the television lights for an hour and a half to spout fantasies just ever so short of little green men. But that still wasn’t the worst.

As Rudy spewed BS on behalf of the Donald, his hair dye began to melt under the heat of the television lights. Even as his fantasmagorical pontification raged on, black streams poured down his face. Nobody was sure which was sillier– his appearance or his message. On international television, he made himself a clown.

If it weren’t so sad, it would have been outrageously funny. No doubt TV shows will feast on it for weeks, but they shouldn’t. This wasn’t funny, it was heartbreaking– a tragic ending of a noteworthy career.

Something sad is going on with Rudy. Something sad is going on with Trump supporters. Something sad is going on with the American soul. Pray to God that this train wreck ends soon.