Rob Schofield | Stocking stuffers for the naughty and nice of NC politics

Ho, ho, ho! It’s that time of year again – the fleeting period during which Americans of all stripes set aside petty partisan and ideological differences (hah!) and focus their attention on the one thing that, as humorist Jean Shepherd so accurately observed in his holiday classic “A Christmas Story,” tends to unify us all in and around the winter solstice: “unbridled avarice.”

Here therefore, are some suggested holiday gifts to meet the readily apparent needs of some prominent inhabitants of the North Carolina political class:

For Gov. Roy Cooper: The best virtual reality headset money can buy. If ever a politician had an obvious and understandable need to occasionally escape the crazy/impossible job to which he’s been elected and fantasize about a world in which a supportive legislature would enable him to effect the kind of vitally important change that millions of people elected him to accomplish, it’s Cooper. Ideally, the VR rig will come with a time machine setting for the early-1990s – an era during which our state was moving aggressively forward on a host of fronts and a progress-inclined governorwas, despite having no veto power, usually able to convince the General Assembly to do his bidding with simple persuasion and common sense.

For U.S. Sen. Thom Tillis: A Disney Corporation gift certificate good for one “audio-animatronics” replica of himself. What better gift for politician looking to avoid reinfection with COVID-19 while grabbing some TV time during U.S. Senate floor debates and Judiciary Committee hearings? While no one has ever claimed that the Magic Kingdom replicas of humans and other animals are completely lifelike, a Tillis replica should suffice given the junior senator’s frequently robotic performances – especially if it’s pre-programmed with a handful of hot-button GOP catchphrases that the authors of Tillis’s fundraising appeals favor, like “secure the border,” “reckless Democrat spending,” “skyrocketing gas prices,” “unelected left-wing judges” and “ultra-liberal Kamala Harris.”

For retiring U.S. Senator Richard Burr: A series of visits from Christmas ghosts past and future to remind him that it’s not too late to do the right thing. Yes, nearly 30 years in Washington is a long time to spend going along and getting along without a legislative accomplishment of particular note, but perhaps a nocturnal visitor or two can remind the senator that there’s still time for his legacy to be marked by something other than departing office under the cloud of insider trading allegations. His vote to convict Donald Trump during his second impeachment trial last year reminds us that somewhere beneath that perpetually indifferent and seemingly distracted façade lies a dissenter from the strange, extremist turn his party has taken.

For outgoing Secretary of Health and Human Services, Dr. Mandy Cohen: A month-long family vacation in a South Pacific paradise untouched by the pandemic, plus a commemorative Wonder Woman cape to commemorate her five remarkable years in office. During her tenure as HHS boss, Cohen has served as a remarkably intelligent, talented, and steady leader who has always put science and sound public health policy first and, in so doing, saved literally thousands of lives. One shudders at the thought of how our state would be faring had the pandemic hit during the tenure of former Gov. Pat McCrory’s badly miscast, deeply unpopular and weirdly eccentric secretary, Aldona Wos.

For General Assembly Redistricting Committee chairs, State Sens. Warren Daniel, Ralph Hise and Paul Newton and State Rep. Destin Hall: A box of 64 Crayola crayons, three sheets of 3-foot-by-5-foot butcher paper and the temporary attention of five or six typical North Carolina third graders. Anyone who thinks the kids couldn’t come up with a set of fairer legislative and congressional maps under such circumstances than the absurdly gerrymandered monstrosities the lawmakers produced with digital technology isn’t paying attention.