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March 7, 2026

Centreville Spy

Nonpartisan and Education-based News for Centreville

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Who is Really Getting Screwed? By Maria Grant

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Over the last several months, President Trump and his minions have repeatedly claimed that America is getting screwed. Foreign countries have rigged the rules of the game. They cheat, they plunder, they rob. Most of these claims center around trade imbalances. Of course, none of these issues are simple matters of math. Rather they involve complex concepts involving scale, natural resources, location, and so much more. (Personally, I agree with President Reagan when he said that over the long run trade barriers eventually hurt American workers and consumers.)

Here are a few examples of America getting screwed, according to the Trump train.

The European Union was formed to screw America. 

China, Mexico, and Canada are screwing America because of trade deficits. 

Immigrants are screwing America by committing crimes and draining our resources. 

The Media is screwing America with fake news, spreading lies and working against the Administration.

Elite academic institutions are screwing America by embracing “woke” policies and propagating “anti-American values.”   

Employers’ DEI initiatives are screwing America, resulting in unqualified applicants obtaining positions, and more qualified applicants being pushed aside. 

The Federal Reserve Board is screwing America by delaying the lowering of interest rates.

America is being conned on environmental issues, specifically regarding climate change and renewable energy. Trump’s exact words: “The greatest con job ever perpetrated on the world.” 

Americans are getting screwed because the federal government gives too much money to support developing countries—way more than America’s fair share. Hence the demolition of USAID and other humanitarian assistance.

Sigmund Freud developed a psychoanalytic theory called projection–the concept of accusing others of what you are guilty of. Let’s take a closer look at exactly who is screwing who. A short list of people and entities that Trump has screwed follows. 

A chauffeur driver sued Trump because he never got paid for mammoth amounts of overtime pay.

A Philadelphia cabinet maker filed bankruptcy because Trump refused to pay the final cabinet bill.

A drapery business in Las Vegas closed because Trump shorted it on its final bill to a tune of $380,000.

A contractor that installed toilet partitions in Trump’s Atlantic City casino received only 30 cents on the dollar. The contract was for $23l,0000. The contractor received $70,000. 

Trump hired 200 undocumented immigrants from Poland to build Trump Tower. No records were kept. No Social Security payments or taxes were paid. No overtime was paid to workers who frequently worked twelve-hour days. 

A piano seller who sold several grand and upright pianos to Trump’s casino was screwed out of $30,000—a huge hit for a small business. 

Thousands of students were defrauded by Trump University, a for-profit real estate seminar that Trump’s team developed which was not accredited. 

Trump’s charity was formed only for personal and political purposes and was eventually forced to shut down. 

Since the beginning of his second term, Trump has taken or proposed at least 350 actions that directly threaten the environment, climate, and human health, including rollbacks of environmental and health laws, and attacking well-established science and scientists—essentially screwing progress for a safer and healthier environment for current and future generations. 

Last year, more than 1.1 million international students contributed $448 million to the U.S. economy. The Trump administration’s draconian cuts to research and stricter regulations around international students are screwing Americans—the former brain gain is becoming a major brain drain as universities and think tanks outside the U.S encourage students and researchers to come to their shores. 

In spite of Trump’s claims that DEI initiatives result in incompetence at all levels, Trump’s current cabinet has been ranked the third worst in history. (Warren G. Harding’s came in first and Ulysses S. Grant’s came in second.) Trump’s cabinet has been criticized for lack of qualifications, appointments based on loyalty over capability, conflicts of interest, and overall, extremely poor vetting. The result: America is screwed by not receiving competent advice based on deep expertise on issues such as health, defense, intelligence, justice, and education. 

Since the shutdown of USAID in July of this year, it has been reported that an estimated 526,610 deaths have been caused by the funding discontinuation, including more than 355,620 children. Trump just gave Argentina USAID’s entire yearly budget— a $20 billion bailout (which may soon become $40 billion) that will primarily benefit various extremely wealthy hedge fund managers. 

Trump’s contentions that he has been screwed, shorted, and abused, along with the rest of America, are beyond absurd. This is a man who has cheated on every one of his three wives, shorted literally hundreds of vendors, shirked from paying his fair-share of taxes, and participated in a host of fraudulent schemes.

As a result of Trump’s policies, the national debt has increased, trade wars are running rampant, environmental policies have been rolled back, healthcare premiums are rising, scientific research is being stymied, and political polarization is increasing.

 One man, his administration, and his cohorts are the screwees. Science, affordable healthcare, the environment, the ill and disadvantaged, developing countries, our allies, and future generations are the victims. 

Maria Grant, formerly the principal-in-charge of the federal human capital practice of an international consulting firm, now focuses on writing, reading, music, and nature.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Cake By Jamie Kirkpatrick

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I always thought it was Marie Antionette who once said, “Let them eat cake!” Turns out I was wrong. Historians now agree that the probable speaker was, in fact, Princess Maria Theresa of Spain and wife of French King Louis XIV who, when told that the peasants were starving, replied, “If they have no bread, then let them eat cake.” Whomever the culprit, the sentiment is clear: cake has become the symbol of the oblivious and callous nature of the aristocracy towards the suffering of the poor. The poor? You know, the millions of Americans who rely on food aid to feed their families. Certainly not the people who attended the recent Roaring 20s rager at Mar-a-Lago. More about that anon…

Millions of our neighbors live below the poverty line: for a household of four, that equates to a gross monthly income of less than $3,483 a month. Once upon a time, people who needed help with groceries relied on Food Stamps, but these days, it’s the Supplemental Nutritional Assistance Program (SNAP) that provides access to food for about one-in-eight American families— a little more than 12% of our population. At least, it did until the Trump administration slammed the door on SNAP. To make matters worse, our do-nothing Congress then left town for an extended paid vacation, so don’t expect relief anytime soon. I ask you: is there a large-enough mirror anywhere in which these people can see themselves? They are a disgrace and, mind you, I’m pointing my finger at both sides of the aisle.

Governance is a responsibility, not a mandate to inflict pain and suffering on one’s presumed opponents. And it should never, ever be oblivious to the vital needs of hungry people who need its help the most. There; I’ve said it. Now, back to Mar-a-Lago.

But first, a bit of background: a few weeks ago, I decided to read The Great Gatsby again. I read it first probably in high school, and, like most things from way back then, I had forgotten much of the story. But it all came rushing back quickly, old sport: West Egg and East Egg, the twin pillars of the toney North Shore of Long Island; the Jazz Age with its boozy, hedonistic parties; the mysterious millionaire Jay Gatsby and his awkward attempts to reunite with the love of his life, the beautiful Daisy Buchanan, now married (alas!) to her wayward husband, Tom; and, of course, Nick Carraway, Daisy’s distant cousin and Gatsby’s innocent but well-intentioned neighbor who is both the narrator of, and a participant in, Gatsby’s tragic saga. 

Now, I don’t want to spoil anyone’s reading pleasure, but suffice it to say, The Great Gatsby doesn’t end well for its eponymous character. A few weeks after I finished rereading Fitzgerald’s masterpiece, along comes the news (with photographs, old sport!) of Mr. Trump’s Halloween extravaganza at Mar-a-Lago, and its uncanny resemblance to one of Gatsby’s lavish Long Island affairs. I couldn’t help but marvel at such a confluence of fiction and fact. Moreover, the timing of the Mar-a-Lago bash—on the eve of the elimination of SNAP’s vital food assistance for millions of Americans, as well as on the very day when millions of federal workers would miss their first full paychecks—seemed beyond tone-deaf. It seemed vicious and cruel. It seemed like…cake.

“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” 

I’ll be right back.

Jamie Kirkpatrick is a writer and photographer who lives on both sides of the Chesapeake Bay. His editorials and reviews have appeared in the Washington Post, the Baltimore Sun, the Philadelphia Inquirer, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, the Washington College Alumni Magazine, and American Cowboy Magazine. His most recent novel, “The Tales of Bismuth; Dispatches from Palestine, 1945-1948” explores the origins of the Arab-Israeli conflict. It is available on Amazon and in local bookstores. His newest novel, “The People Game,” hits the market in February, 2026. His website is musingjamie.net.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

A Novel Approach on How to Address Crime In Baltimore by David Reel

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Since last August, President Trump, Governor Moore, and Baltimore Mayor Scott have engaged in a war of words over federal intervention to address crime in Baltimore.

Trump has already deployed the military in Los Angeles, Washington DC, and Memphis. He wants to do the same in Portland and Chicago but that is currently on hold due to legal challenges.

Governor Moore has maintained that such deployments are unconstitutional and unnecessary.

Trump responded to Moore that he wants a military deployment to Baltimore as it is “out of control,” “crime ridden,” and is the “4th worst in the nation in crime and murder.”

Responding to Trump’s assessment of Baltimore, Scott said, “I don’t care what Trump thinks.”

Responding to Trump’s plans for Baltimore, Moore invited the president to visit Baltimore for a walking tour and to share his data showing significant reductions in violent crime.

When Trump declined the invitation, Moore said, “If you are not willing to walk our communities, keep our name out of your mouth. If you are not willing to stand with our people, keep our name out of your mouth.”

Trump fired back with a threat to accelerate his military deployment plans for Baltimore and withhold federal funds to rebuild the Key Bridge.

Moore then returned fire with a post on his personal X account, referring to Trump as “President Bone Spurs.”

There is a much better way to proceed.

Daniel Lurie is the mayor of San Francisco, California.

He has no political aspirations beyond improving San Francisco, has repeatedly refused to weigh in on national politics and, most importantly, has said, “I will work with anyone who wants to help San Francisco.” Lurie has not only said that — he has done that.

Last month, Mayor Lurie had a cordial and productive phone conversation with President Trump about addressing crime in San Francisco, especially the proliferation of illegal drugs.

Following his phone conversation with Trump, Lurie said, “I told him the same thing I told our residents – I will work with anyone who wants to help San Francisco.” Lurie also told Trump that he welcomes the city’s “continued partnership” with the federal Drug Enforcement Administration and other federal resources to get illegal drugs off the streets, especially Fentanyl.

Following the call, Trump announced he is putting a hold on a military deployment into San Francisco.

The time is now for President Trump, Governor Moore, and Mayor Scott to agree to the following rules of engagement regarding future discussions on how best to address crime in Baltimore:

  1. Agree to an immediate and permanent ceasefire on their recent war with words.

  2. Embrace Mayor Lurie’s approach to work with anyone who wants to help Baltimore.

  3. Agree to more transparency and accountability on public funding to not-for-profit organizations.

None will be easy, but all are essential.

Implementation of transparency and accountability on public funding to not-for-profit organizations may be the most challenging.

Mayor Scott often characterizes Baltimore’s Safe Streets program, which is currently managed by not-for-profit organizations, as Baltimore’s “flagship” gun violence prevention program.

Others have challenged that characterization.

Ivan Bates, the State’s Attorney in Baltimore City, is currently considering a fraud probe over Safe Streets. Bates has said, “We wouldn’t have to do this if they just were transparent.”

He also has said, “I don’t know what Safe Streets is doing. They’re not helping us in any way, shape, form or fashion.”

Baltimore City Council President Zeke Cohen has also raised some concerns about how often the city contracts with not-for-profit organizations for city work.

Cohen has said, “When it comes to oversight, whether it’s the police department, whether it’s the Mayor’s Office of Neighborhood Safety and Engagement, or whether it’s Safe Streets: expect to hear the tough questions asked in this chamber [the Council meeting room].”

Governor Moore especially needs to reconsider his support for a plan to award $6.1 million to We Our Us, a nonprofit who will use the funds to “engage justice-involved youth in Baltimore City.”

Two experts in nonprofit accounting have said it’s unclear if We Our Us is capable of handling $6 million in public funds since they have not filed a nonprofit tax form since 2022.

The bottom line is residents of Baltimore and every other resident of Maryland are best served with the results of the leadership style of Mayor Lurie.

His leadership is working well in addressing crime in San Francisco.
It can work well on addressing crime in Baltimore, too.

David Reel is a public affairs and public relations consultant. He is also a consultant for profit organizations on governance, leadership, and management matters. He lives in Easton.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

A Word about Jazz on the Stage in Oxford

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Indulge me. Turning points are memorable, so I’d like to share a brief story from my life. 

I had, as a teenager, played in a band—we called it a dance band. It was in the very late 1950s. Later on, I had been out front in bringing the Dave Brubeck Quartet to Westminster College (the one in Missouri). It remains a vivid memory.

Fast forward a few decades, now the 21st century, I was asked to pair jazz with chamber music on the Eastern Shore. I turned to my friends. 

A close friend, a jazz pianist himself, introduced me to Monty Alexander, the joyous jazz pianist from New York by way of Jamaica. The introduction became the first step in the beginning of what became the Monty Alexander Jazz festival. 

Several weeks before the curtain went up for that first festival year, I got a call from Dominick Farinacci’s agent recommending we open the festival with Dominick paired with a fast-rising young pianist, Aaron Diehl.  

In 2002, Diehl, in Jazz at Lincoln Center’s Essentially Ellington competition, was awarded “Outstanding Soloist.” The following year, he toured Europe with Wynton Marsalis. Aaron, like his friend and musical collaborator Dominick Faranacci, met while in the first jazz class at Juilliard.

Farinacci, whose virtuosity is well known in the Eastern Shore neighborhood, has won the “International New Star Award”, Disney’s “New Star Award”, and topped the charts as one of Japan’s No. 1 jazz musicians. Recently he has become a musical playwright.

This brief story of a musical friendship and beyond is a run-up to a concert starring the two friends on The Stage at Oxford Community Center on December 5th.

Preferring to let others frame my expectations, let me turn to The New York Times music critics. A Times critic praised Diehl’s “melodic precision, harmonic erudition, and elegant restraint”. Having enjoyed Aaron Diehl in a recent concert, I would simply add he keeps improving on that description.

About Farinacci a New York Times critic rhapsodized, “…a trumpeter of abundant poise,” who “plays beautifully, with expressive control” and “brings true musicality.” 

Wrapping up, here is the opportunity: Dominick Farinacci and Aaron Diehl perform on Friday, December 5th, at 7:30 pm. To purchase tickets, go here.

Al Sikes is the former Chair of the Federal Communications Commission under George H.W. Bush. Al writes on themes from his book, Culture Leads Leaders Follow published by Koehler Books. 

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Autumn By Angela Rieck

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Autumn season has a chaotic sequence to it. While spring is a predictable progression of flowering plants, shrubs, and trees, autumn is more disjointed. Autumn begins with warmth and ends with a cold sterility preparing us for the long winter nights and short days. In September it tries to keep its grip onto summer weather, with warm, sweet days. Then it jumps to cold mornings, frost on pumpkins, steam rising from waterways. Fall is mostly a transition from lazy summer days to cold winters that will arrive whether we like it or not.

Autumn has its own soundtrack. There is the rustle from leaves being swept across the pavement, and the crunch from dead leaves as we swish through them. There are the squirrels climbing around the trees gathering nuts. 

Canada geese honk loudly while flying in V formations to warmer climes. There are piercing blast and reverberations from shotguns and rifles. Occasionally I hear some crow caws notifying their kin of a newly harvested field. Or starlings summoning their clan to begin their spectacular, trance-inducing murmurations. In the evening and morning, the rhythmic percussion sounds of the locusts replace the chirps of birds.

The air is dryer and crisper, so the engine noises from machines are louder and more differentiated. The thumping motorcycle engines and ambulances reverberate through my home. The sounds from clattering farm equipment slowly wind through the streets. The high-pitched chatter and laughter of children at the end of the school day echoes throughout the town.

Darkness takes over light as the oncoming winter looms. Mornings are dark. I walk my dogs with my hands in my pockets. Rather than a slow meandering walk, I walk briskly, anxious to get back inside to the warmth. My dogs also feel the cold and do their business quickly. Nights arrive sooner. On occasion, a large harvest moon hovers over the horizon.

The baby animals have grown into adult animals preparing for the winter. Birds from my bird feeder have retreated to the woods or flown to warmer climes.

Bright summer colors are replaced with subtle oranges, russet reds, and yellows as plants die, and trees prepare for the oncoming winter. Evergreens take a darker tint when the sap retreats to the trunks. Instead of growing, gardening becomes cutting down flowers, now brown, and raking brown and yellow leaves. The clean landscape is replaced by messy leaves and plants going to seed.

Scents transform from floral to heavy spices, pumpkin spice, allspice, cinnamon, and cloves prevail. The dusty odor from dry leaves and mold and the smell of burning ash from newly opened fireplaces puffs through the air.

Food changes to stews, noodles, squashes, root vegetables, potatoes, and soups. Warm, soft foods replace the cool salads of the summer. Dinner scents fill the air as the time-consuming tomato sauces, stews, and soups simmer. Melons are replaced by crisp apples. Desserts transform from frozen ice cream to pies and pumpkin spiced everything.

Autumn also brings unique holidays. Halloween with its candy and costumes. Thanksgiving has the smells of home, turkey, ham and familiar scents. 

Unlike most people, I don’t care for autumn. The outside work is tedious, raking leaves and watching plants die. Everything is in preparation for closing the outdoors from the cold. But there is always football. So, enjoy the fall holidays and remember that spring is just another season away.

Angela Rieck, a Caroline County native, received her PhD in Mathematical Psychology from the University of Maryland and worked as a scientist at Bell Labs, and other high-tech companies in New Jersey before retiring as a corporate executive. Angela and her dogs divide their time between St Michaels and Key West Florida. Her daughter lives and works in New York City.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Lucca is Fifteen! By J.E. Dean

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Way back in 2011, Lucca arrived at our home, a beautiful goldendoodle with a coat the color of well-creamed coffee. She came to us with an oversized nose that we assumed she would grow into and enough energy to power a small city. 

In the early days, we did not walk the dog—she walked us. She house-trained herself in a few weeks, displaying an ability to communicate that we sometimes found lacking in humans. 

Lucca evidenced an unlimited interest in every smell in our neighborhood. At times, she pulled aggressively on her leash as she sought to explore neighbors’ yards. (Not all our neighbors shared our appreciation for goldendoodles or, any other dog, for that matter.)

As the months went by, Lucca’s energy and curiosity grew. She made friends with nearly every other dog in the neighborhood, even ones that growled at her. The exception, which we have never understood, is collies. She hates collies the way that most of us hate racism. 

Lucca was born with wanderlust, but unfortunately with a strain that periodically shut down her brain. We assumed she loved us, even though she made a beeline for any door or gate inadvertently left open. She ran to explore the world outside the barriers that we were keeping her from. 

And when I say ran, I mean it. Lucca, guided by her big nose, sniffed every telephone poll, mailbox, and a lot more. When we chased her, she ran joyously in the opposite direction. She did this repeatedly until we started to discuss the strategy of going back into our house and waiting for Lucca to tire and come home on her own.

Unfortunately, there was not a single instance where Lucca came home on her own. Usually, we would resume our search after a short break and eventually find that a neighbor had caught Lucca. How did they catch her? Once Lucca got tired and overheated enough, she sought water, sometimes after rolling around in the mud. On several occasions, Lucca took the liberty of cooling down (and bathing) in a neighbor’s swimming pool. Fortunately, the neighbor loved dogs as much as we do.

As the years have gone by, Lucca has slowed down. She grew from 13 pounds to around 57 today. She also developed a number of ailments, including several noncancerous growths that now hinder her walking. No longer is she able to leap onto chairs and sofas or into the back seat of our car. Instead, she stands patiently in the right spot until one of us lifts her up or, in the case of the car, lifts her out of the car and gently onto the pavement.

Lucca no longer runs away. We still don’t fully trust her, but I now undo her leash at the end of her walks once we near our front door. Lucca casually follows me into the house every time. Her days of exploration are over.

Friends sometimes ask whether we loved the puppy Lucca more than the mature dog that now spends many hours a day resting. We love them both.

Our 15-year-old Lucca is getting old but is even a better companion today than in 2011. While her eyesight is deteriorating, her ears seem to be compensating. She listens to us. When we tell her it’s time for bed, she goes to bed. And when we tell her its time for a Greenie and a bone, she transforms herself for a moment into the eager, excited puppy that entered our lives so many years ago.

Lucca is a good dog.

J.E. Dean writes on politics, government goldendoodles, and other subjects. A former counsel on Capitol Hill and public affairs consultant, Dean also writes for Dean’s Issues & Insights on Substack.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Ballroom Dancing By Jamie Kirkpatrick

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There is an attic at the top of the stairs of my mind. I don’t go there very often because it’s musty, full of cobwebs, odds and ends, boxes of faded photo albums, and trunks of old clothes that no longer fit. But all this chatter about a new ballroom for the White House sent me up into that attic to see what I could find. I rummaged among my memories and finally found what I was looking for: my old dance card from Mrs. Burgwin’s Dancing School…

I was in sixth grade when my mother signed me up for dancing school at the Twentieth Century Club in Pittsburgh with the legendary Mrs. Burgwin. I have no idea why she did that. My family wasn’t all that social, but maybe Mom figured a few lessons in manners and the social graces would be good for her baby. I was not at all enthusiastic, but since several of my school mates had also been press-ganged into Mrs. Burgwin’s service, I decided to make the best of it. 

Every other Friday night for several weeks, I was thrown into the back of the family car, face washed and hair combed, necktied, suited, and white gloved, and off I went to Dancing School. There were two instructors. Mrs. Stewart was the Assistant Instructor; she was young and pretty, and she looked like Mary Tyler Moore on the Dick Van Dyke Show. But it was Mrs. Burgwin who was the undisputed Mistress of Dancing School. In stark contrast to Mrs, Stuart, she looked like Dame Maggie Smith’s version of Granny on Downtown Abbey. She dressed like her, too, and she was adamant we should learn how to waltz, fox trot, and cha-cha. There certainly weren’t any lessons in the jitterbug, tango, or twist because Mrs. Burgwin thought those dances were the devil’s playground.

Each week, the boys and girls—or, as Mrs. Burgwin insisted on calling us, “young gentlemen” and “young ladies”—were assigned partners. Mrs Stewart (who once danced in the arms of Arthur Murray!) and her partner would then gracefully demonstrate the proper steps while Mrs. Burgwin watched from the sidelines, making sure there was no monkey business on the dance floor. Proper etiquette was the order of the day, and Mrs. Burgwin was there to enforce the appropriate rules of the road and to administer rebuke to anyone who dance-stepped out of line. She scared the bejesus out of us, but our parents were grateful to her for doing God’s work.

Anyway, that was my introduction to ballroom dancing. The thing is, I don’t think I ever put any of Mrs. Burgwin’s lessons into practice. A few years after Dancing School, there was the occasional Deb Party, but I don’t remember much dancing going on. Surreptitious swigging, certainly, but never a waltz, fox trot, or cha-cha. By the time I got to college, no one ever waltzed, fox trotted, or cha-cha’d anymore—we either danced like sweaty lunatics, or we clung to each other in dark corners—so I guess all those dance lessons went for nought. That was when I decided to store Mrs. Burgwin and her dance lessons up in my mental attic, but all these years later, when I saw that the East Wing of the White House was being demolished in order to make way for a gigantic gilded ballroom, I went back up into the rafters of my mind to find my white gloves and to dust off my old dancing shoes.

Not!

Friends: our government has been shuttered for nearly a month. People are losing their jobs, their access to health care, their livelihood. Free speech is no longer free. Funding for important research is disappearing like rain in the desert. Schools are closing. Innocent people are being rounded-up and sent away to unspeakable places. And now carrier groups and fighter squadrons are on their way to Venezuela. Anything to distract us from the larceny taking place right before our eyes. But don’t worry: soon, those among us deemed light enough on their feet will be invited to the Trump Ballroom to dance the night away while the Marine Band strikes up “Nearer My God To Thee.” 

Mrs. Burgwin—wherever you are— I hope you’ll forgive me if I don’t waltz, fox-trot, or cha-cha to this madman’s music.

I’ll be right back.

Jamie Kirkpatrick is a writer and photographer who lives on both sides of the Chesapeake Bay. His editorials and reviews have appeared in the Washington Post, the Baltimore Sun, the Philadelphia Inquirer, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, the Washington College Alumni Magazine, and American Cowboy Magazine. His most recent novel, “The Tales of Bismuth; Dispatches from Palestine, 1945-1948” explores the origins of the Arab-Israeli conflict. It is available on Amazon and in local bookstores. His newest novel, “The People Game,” hits the market in February, 2026. His website is musingjamie.net.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Let’s Talk about Authenticity By Maria Grant

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Lately I’ve been reading articles that claim the reason Trump won the election is because voters saw him as authentic. You know, he speaks his mind. So, I guess when you wax poetic about Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt’s lips, or tell Princess Kate of Wales and Attorney General Pam Bondi, they’re beautiful, or tell a reporter she’s ugly and stupid, we now consider these comments to be authentic behavior. Such behavior used to be called rude, crude, and singularly unattractive. Plus, objectifying women was typically not a cause for celebration. 

The original Mona Lisa is authentic. The Declaration of Independence is authentic. Bruce Springsteen is authentic. Frankly, I don’t think there is much of anything authentic about Donald Trump. Here’s why.

There are those who claim Donald Trump is an authentic great businessman. No, he isn’t. The New York Times claimed that over the years Trump inherited at least $413 million from his father. His companies filed for bankruptcy six times. Before he became president in 2016, Trump was involved in more than 4,000 legal cases including battles with casino patrons, real estate lawsuits, personal defamation lawsuits, housing discrimination lawsuits, and business tax disputes. 

Then there are those who say Trump looks authentic. No, he doesn’t. His hair color changes weekly going from blond to white to strawberry blond and involves complicated weaves, blow drying, and strong styling products. Add to that tanning booths, orange makeup, white circles around the eyes, Botox under the eyebrows, chin makeup that ends abruptly, suits with padded shoulders, and those ultra long silk ties. There are those who opine that he disappears for two days each month to tend to various beauty regimes. And then there are those who state that all this focus on his “look” smacks of strong insecurity and massive vanity issues. 

Some supporters have stated that Trump is an authentically great golfer. No, he isn’t. Read the book Commander in Cheat by Rick Reilly, who accuses Trump of moving the ball to obtain better positions, taking multiple mulligans (re-do’s), and claiming club championships with questionable validity.

On numerous occasions, Trump has told the public that he has excellent taste. No, he doesn’t. His signature style has been labelled “dictator chic.” In a short period of time, he has turned the Oval Office into a tacky gilded embarrassing nightmare. And stay tuned for this absurd ballroom harking back to shades of Versailles. So much for simplicity and understated elegance.

Sociologists claim that authentic people forge their own path. They do not seek validation through things. They reserve judgment until all facts are in. They are generous and treat other people with respect. They are not driven by their own egos, and they are not hypocritical. 

Trump checks zero of those boxes. 

Trump’s supporters state that Trump is the ultimate outsider. That’s why they like him. There is ultimate irony in that statement given he is the ultimate insider trader (especially when it comes to crypto) and also has the inside track with a host of CEOs—think Apple, Amazon, Microsoft, Micron—the list goes on. 

Trump’s supporters also say Trump is unfiltered, and they find that refreshing. Such unfiltered talk can soon become dangerous and result in damaging rhetoric. Democratic norms are cast aside and replaced with totalitarian proclamations. Wait, isn’t that already happening?

 In the play All’s Well that Ends Well, Shakespear wrote, “No legacy is as rich as honesty.”  Yes, Trump is enriching himself during his presidency, but it has nothing to do with honesty and authenticity. Instead, he has thrown accountability, respect, truth, and decency out the window, and replaced them with a gaudy vulgar, and phony veneer—just like the gilded gold in the renovated Oval Office. 

Maria Grant was principal-in-charge of the federal human capital practice of an international consulting firm. While on the Eastern Shore, she focuses on writing, reading, music, and nature.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

There is a Hidden Maryland by Len Foxwell

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There is a hidden Maryland. 

One that is quietly kept separate from the iconic images of one of America’s wealthiest states.

One that exists alongside, and yet worlds apart from the stately mansions of Guilford and Potomac, and the vibrant energy of National Harbor and downtown Frederick.

One that is invisible from the fortified boardrooms of St. Mary’s County’s aerospace sector, and exists in stark contrast to the old-money charm of Talbot County’s sailing set. 

In this Maryland, our children do not have enough food to eat. 

Here, children regard school not as a dreary obligation of adolescence, but as their one and only chance to enjoy a decent meal that makes them feel right again. 

Unlike their peers, these young Marylanders do not count down the hours to the weekend, and they most assuredly will not be marking off the days until the start of Christmas vacation. For them, these are not respites from the drudgery of the classroom but, rather, a terrifying stretch of days in which they literally do not know when or where they will eat again.

According to data from Feeding America, a national non-profit organization that feeds more than 46 million people each year, one of every six children in our state experience hunger. Contrary to what one might assume, this crisis has not been relegated to Maryland’s most marginalized communities but has, instead, become prevalent in every county and region of our state. 

For example, 44 percent of Montgomery County’s 161,000 public school students qualify for free and reduced-price meals – whether it is because of their household incomes, participation in supplemental government nutrition programs, or personal circumstances such as homelessness or foster care.  In Baltimore County, a whopping 66 percent are eligible. Even in affluent rural jurisdictions such as Talbot County – which is occasionally referred to as “Maryland’s Hamptons” – nearly 60 percent of their 4,523 students qualify. 

There are some who may read this and assume that, as devastating as generational poverty may be for children and the broader society, we can continue to rely on school meals to prevent matters from getting even worse. 

That would be a deeply flawed and highly dangerous assumption. The onslaught of ruinous policy decisions coming out of Washington this year have inflicted disproportionate harm on our state and, specifically, the children our government supposedly exists to protect. 

According to the Maryland Department of Labor, we have lost more than 15,000 federal jobs since January – the highest number, by far, of any state in the nation. Adding to the economic devastation are the thousands of federal layoffs that have been carried out by the Trump Administration since the October 1 government shutdown. More than 4,200 people have lost their jobs as of this writing and, tragically, many more are likely to come. One need not be a macroeconomist to recognize the effect these waves of joblessness will have on demand for discounted meals – particularly when Maryland families are already struggling to cover the soaring costs of daily living at a time when wages and salaries have remained stagnant at best. 

The consequences of these circumstances are clear. The demand for school breakfasts and lunches will inevitably exceed the capacity of Maryland’s 24 school systems to pay for them. Children, it should not have to be said, cannot reach their full intellectual, physical and social potential if they do not have enough to eat. Which means a state that has made a multibillion-dollar commitment to Maryland’s Blueprint for Education Reform could experience diminished returns on investment due to a simple lack of food in the pantry. 

Let’s end the heartbreaking tragedy unfolding in the hidden Maryland by ensuring our most vulnerable children are being fed for success.

Len Foxwell is the principal of Tred Avon Strategies, a communications and political consulting firm in Annapolis.  A Johns Hopkins lecturer and HopStart director, Len previously served as Chief of Staff to Maryland Comptroller Peter Franchot. He holds a B.A. in Political Science from Salisbury University, where he also served as Special Assistant to the President.
  

 

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Crystal Bridges by Al Sikes

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Well, that was interesting. As I write, the plane is gathering altitude as my wife and I leave Northwest Arkansas on an American Airlines flight for Washington. In a sense, we are going from one museum to a home of museums—the ones funded by the federal government.

The most interesting moment was at Crystal Bridges, a museum in Bentonville, Arkansas, founded by Alice Walton. You might know Bentonville as the home of Walmart, founded by Alice’s father, Sam. Sam and his family and key associates made a lot of money.

Alice decided to use her considerable wealth and talent to create a museum in spring-fed ponds, with the artistic/architectural assistance of Moshe Safdie, an Israeli-Canadian-American architect. I suspect Sam Walton would be proud, as his daughter’s work is as singular as his. American ingenuity is amazing.

The Museum’s collection, American artists of a wide range of styles, is impressive, but the museum itself is even more so. Most major museums are surrounded by concrete in big cities. Crystal Bridges structures are imaginative and woods and water highlight its spaces.

I cannot imagine—all in—a more spectacular museum—yes, the most significant structural expression of art in the world. And it is in Northwest Arkansas. Some of my East Coast friends are confused. “Why would you create such a museum in Arkansas?”

Considerable commentary has been written about amassing wealth and how it is used. Some would suggest that quite large increments of profit should go to the government. Given the extraordinary debt load of the United States, it’s not a difficult argument.

Yet, Crystal Bridges is not an expression of a committee or of a government agency. And Sam Walton’s success was directly tied to offering products at low prices. It is impossible to know how much he saved shoppers with modest resources.

But let me close with the surroundings of Crystal Bridges. Aside from roadways to parking spaces, there are art trails with beautiful fusions—earth and art in harmony. One notable stop was at a James Turrell Skyspace. Turrell has, from time to time, lived on the Eastern Shore, Oxford to be specific.

So now a suggestion. Take a road trip or a plane and spend some time in Northwest Arkansas. Sure, the concrete meccas of New York, San Francisco, London, or Paris offer great museums, but they are, for many, a long trip away and surrounded by concrete and security apparatus. Crystal Bridges is free and in a world often characterized by intense security, almost carefree.

Al Sikes is the former Chair of the Federal Communications Commission under George H.W. Bush. Al writes on themes from his book, Culture Leads Leaders Follow published by Koehler Books. 

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.