"Beam Me Up, Scotty" ......

[KirtFalcon]

James Traficant, 1941-2014

6:02 PM, Sep 27, 2014 • By MATT LABASH

If I sported a hairpiece, I’d be wearing it at half-mast right about now, upon hearing that the world just grew a little less interesting. For the most colorful man who ever inhabited Congress, former Ohio Democratic Rep. James A . Traficant Jr., expired today at the age of 73. Traficant—he of the Barney Miller-era suits and conspiracy theories and “beam-me-up” one-minute floor speeches and the toupee that looked like a marmot getting electroconvulsive therapy—died as he lived: crushed beneath the weight of The Machine. A tractor he was driving rolled over on him.

 

 

I, for one, will miss him, much as I did when he went to federal prison in 2002 to serve a seven-year sentence on corruption charges. Well before Traficant became a federal inmate, I went to see him for a profile. Though we were only in each other’s company for one day, he gave me everything a profiler could want: sex (he informed me in a crowded Rayburn Building elevator that a lot of women hit on him and he takes them on out of a “responsibility to the American woman”), violence (he slapped me in the face while insisting on calling me “Kibosh” instead of “Labash,” accusing me of coming to do “a castration job”) and intimacies (he spent hours insisting that Janet Reno, whose Justice Department was then bearing down on him, was a lesbian mob puppet).

 

We got along so famously, that I promised/threatened to call him again. Traficant emphatically told me not to: “You ain’t gonna catch up with me no more. Don’t call me again.” But then, as a token of affection, he offered me an American flag, once flown over the Capitol. I still kept an eye on Traficant in the years that followed—as he shipped off to prison, as he started painting horses on prison cardboard and Formica and selling them on his website (beammeupart.com), as he unsuccessfully ran for Congress again upon his release, getting stomped by an old political aide, even though the creaky Rust-Belt Dem whose career presaged the Tea Party Revolution had vowed to lead the charge to abolish the IRS and repeal the 16^th Amendment.

 

Once, many years ago, I tried to reach out to Traficant in prison, wishing to see how he was getting along, or maybe to talk horse art. But he didn’t want to be seen in his diminished, incarcerated state (he reportedly accepted no visitors). And so, I never again enjoyed his company. But I still have that flag, which I fly today, in his honor. And there’s our old piece together (included below), a snapshot of Traficant from a time when he roared like a skinny-tied lion:

 

Traficant, Can He? Will the crazy congressman from Youngstown kneecap the Democrats?

 

October 16, 2000
Vol. 6, No. 05

 

Of all the shots aimed at Rep. James Traficant (that he is a profane, ethically shaky, showboating vulgarian, for starters), there are none so cheap as those directed at his appearance. "It's tough being a fashion leader," the Youngstown Democrat admits. Knight-Ridder said Traficant's hair bespeaks "terminal bedhead," while the Los Angeles Times settled on a "Planet of the Apes sort of hair helmet." Washingtonian said he resembled "a creature from Lake Erie before it was cleaned up," while George speculated that his wardrobe was his way of "subtly campaigning for a pay raise."

 

It hardly seems fair. So when I'm permitted by Traficant's chief of staff Paul Marcone to shadow the Ohio pol for a day ("Unless he gets sick of you -- then he'll throw you out," Marcone warns), I resolve to look beyond cosmetics: to get past Traficant's kelly-green Dacron bell-bottoms, past the double-knit jacket that has held up so valiantly since its purchase during the Ford administration, past the coif that Traficant's hairdresser wife can't tame, as it makes a brisk ascent from his serrated bangs up his conical crown, stopping to rest in a Peppermint Patty-style nest of hair, which looks to be his own.

 

But it proves difficult extricating the man from the caricature, because, it seems, the man is the caricature. As I catch up with Traficant at the conclusion of his testimony before a Senate subcommittee, he shouts me down for being late, calls me "Kibosh" instead of "Labash," bellows to congressional passers-by that I'm there to do a "castration job," and gives me a molar-rattling goombah-style smack in the face as he inquires, "Why would you want to do a piece on a jackass like me? Though I am at the zenith of my jackasshood, I want you to know."

 

Many would concur with that last sentiment, which is why Traficant, despite his high spirits, warns that "the buzzards are circling." With control of the House up for grabs this fall, it's not out of the question that Traficant -- an unreliable Democrat who frequently sides with Republicans -- could hold the balance of power. But the eight-term congressman, who rarely wins his general elections with less than 75 percent of the vote, had to slug his way out of a contentious multi-candidate primary earlier this year. He suspects national Democrats plotted to vanquish him. And as if that weren't insult enough, he is now facing even more Democrats masquerading as independents in the general, who are trying to finish the job by, among other things, suggesting Traficant is crooked.

 

They have plenty of material to work with. In 1983, when Traficant was sheriff of Ohio's Mahoning County, he was tried for receiving mob bribes. He represented himself at trial and was acquitted after convincing a jury that he was conducting a one-man sting operation. (The IRS, unimpressed with his criminal exoneration, later dinged him civilly for not paying taxes on his take.) Instead of running campaign ads or sending direct mail to his constituents, Traficant has spent the better part of the year "preparing my electorate" by warning them he expects the U.S. attorney's office to indict him any day. What for, neither he nor prosecutors are saying. But the local press has speculated it will be an everything-and-the-kitchen-sinker -- from sweetheart land deals to accepting illegal gifts, like free automobiles. Traficant insists he is innocent on all counts -- whatever they may be. "They've got such a hard-on for me," he explains, "they" being the Justice Department, which he has long held is Satan's trainbearer.

Consequently, Traficant leveled a preemptive broadside in August against attorney general Janet Reno. He has always been a sucker for a good conspiracy theory. But on Fox's Hannity & Colmes, Traficant out-Oliver Stoned himself, saying he had come across information that Reno was a lesbian drunk who'd been discovered in compromising positions with call girls, making her an ideal mob puppet when she became Dade County state's attorney. Her "blackmailibility," he added, later manifested itself in her failure to appoint an independent counsel to investigate the influence of Chinese money in our elections. The charges, which Reno denied ("Consider the source," she said) baffled even some of Traficant's friends. "What's that got to do with the price of watermelon?" asks Don Hanni Jr., Youngstown's legendary Democratic political boss and a renowned criminal defense attorney. Hanni -- a close friend who tried to have Traficant committed for insanity when the two were political rivals in the early '80s -- has warned the congressman against foolishly antagonizing prosecutors. "I tell him to keep his ### mouth shut," says Hanni, "but telling him what to do is like kicking a mule in the ######."

 

All of this would seem to be more than enough to relegate Traficant to Congress's fringes, but recently the opposite has happened. Traficant has flirted with party-switching for years -- he votes with Republicans 70 percent of the time. This summer, however, he announced that he'd stay a Democrat ("Why should I let them drive me out? I think they're f -- up") but would be voting for Denny Hastert for speaker of the House. This set off a mild panic among Democrats -- who because of Traficant's apostasy will need to pick up two extra seats if they plan to address "Speaker" Gephardt. Not only that, grateful Republicans have actually taken to campaigning with Traficant, rewarding him with a $ 25 million youth center in his impoverished district, and even coming to his defense. Ohio Republican Steve LaTourette has said that if the latest investigation of Traficant is a fishing expedition intended to cause political embarrassment, "I will be happy to lead the charge to make sure everyone responsible in the U.S. Attorney's Office loses their job."

 

Besides telegraphing his choice for speaker, Traficant does nothing to endear himself to his party's leadership. "I'm gonna do what's best for America," he sniffs, "I wasn't elected to turn over a f -- voting card to Dick Gephardt." One Democratic consultant says that if Traficant makes it through the election and Democrats regain the majority, "He'll be made chairman of the sub-subcommittee on public restrooms." For now, though, they are praying he's bluffing, and no one wants to risk further alienating him.

 

It's not the first time Traficant has found himself center stage. Born in Youngstown, the 59-year-old was a star quarterback at the University of Pittsburgh. After getting waived by the Pittsburgh Steelers and Oakland Raiders, he ran a drug-counseling program that saw him named the Mahoning Valley's 1980 Citizen of the Year. His model citizen credentials, however, would shortly be called into question.

 

As Youngstown has long served as a shuttlecock between the Cleveland and Pittsburgh mafias, corruption infested the entire Mahoning Valley. In the '60s, the Saturday Evening Post stuck Youngstown with the unenviable laurel "Crimetown, U.S.A." And the title was borne out in the years that followed. It became nearly impossible for a civic-minded individual to avoid doing business with people bearing middle-name monikers like "Jeep" and "Beef." Enough car-bombings occurred that they became known in FBI circles as "Youngstown tune-ups." Locals joked that so many public officials were on the take, they didn't fear imprisonment, but rather, being annexed by Louisiana.

 

In this climate, Traficant was elected sheriff in 1980, and in his own inimitable style, quickly made his mark. He set new records for drug busts, and once ran his cruiser through the front-yard fence of a motorcycle gang's home. Constantly accusing other public officials of corruption, he enjoyed such a contentious relationship with the local FBI that they reportedly considered shutting down their branch office, as they feared a shoot-out with the sheriff. At the same time, he endeared himself to the citizenry, doing a brief jail stint himself after refusing to sign off on home foreclosures during a time when the steel bust saw the region's unemployment rate rocket to over 20 percent.

But in 1983, after getting caught on audio tape admitting to having accepted more than $ 100,000 from the mob (as David Grann reported in the New Republic, he told Charlie "the Crab" Carabbia, "I am a loyal f -- "), Traficant was forced to stand trial. It may have been the most entertaining public-corruption spectacle in the history of the valley, which has seen its share. Discounting as fraudulent the confession that the feds said he signed, Traficant, who was not a laywer, elected to represent himself. During the course of the seven-week trial, which lawyer Don Hanni says was "some of the most brilliant defense work I've ever seen," Traficant cursed his way across the court-room in short sleeves while munching cough drops, referred to himself as "my client," and asked the horrified judge for assistance in helping him muddle through procedural complexities, such as getting her removed from the bench.

 

After convincing the jury that he had pulled off "the most unorthodox sting in the history of Ohio politics," getting acquitted, and then demoting four of his deputies who had testified against him, Traficant, by now a local folk hero, won election to Congress in 1984, was elected president of his freshman class, and quickly solidified his image as the madman of the House when the IRS came after him for not paying taxes on his bribe. Conferring with his client, Traficant again decided to represent himself. As the IRS set about crushing him in court, Traficant conceded, "This stumbling jackass [the feds] may pull it off." They did. To this day, Traficant's $ 136,700 congressional salary is garnisheed, making his take-home pay, he says, about the same as a public-school teacher's.

 

While remaining a good Rust Belt Democrat who attaches "Buy America" amendments to nearly every appropriations bill, Traficant harbors a deep and abiding mistrust of the IRS, the Justice Department, and nearly every other federal entity that has made him a conservative darling. (Rush Limbaugh, whose visage adorns Traficant's congressional office lobby, calls him "my favorite Democrat.") During his profanity-strewn one-minute speeches to the empty House chamber -- a regular C-SPAN highlight; he is apt to pop off on anything from the topless "foxy ladies" of the Ohio State rugby team to Boris Yeltsin's alcoholism -- Traficant regularly lays waste his own party.

 

From the floor of the House, he says the "White House needs a lobotomy performed by a proctologist," and calls the Lincoln Bedroom the "Red Roof Inn." "If a dog urinates in a parking lot," he cries, "the EPA deems it a wetland." And OSHA should be shipped to Japan and China, so they can "screw those countries up." When a partial-birth abortion bill came up on the same day as a wildlife restoration bill, he fumed, "Unbelievable. Kill the babies, but save the trout and titmouse. Beam me up."

 

Review Traficant's one-minutes (which are available on his website, behind a glaring picture of him swinging a two-by-four with the inscription "Bangin' away in D.C."), and it's understandable why some Republicans find Traficant so appealing. He talks like they do, or the way they used to, before civility scolds and political expedience relegated such rhetoric to Dark Ages Weekends and Rotary luncheons. This helps explain why House Republicans named Traficant the "one-minute MVP," why they fast-tracked his taxpayer bill of rights, why they scatter puppy treats around his district when no other Democrats received projects in a $ 200 million emergency spending bill. It is why partisan Democrats like Barney Frank grouse, "I know we all want to show we like Traficant, but turning the House into eBay is a bad idea."

 

After spinning around the Capitol with Traficant, I can see why he is well liked. He is gregarious and courteous to a fault. In a permutation of Huey Long's credo, every security guard is "chairman," every elevator operator "chairwoman." But after several minutes of uneventfulness, he cannot help but play provocateur. As we ride a crowded elevator in the Rayburn Building, the married congressman declares straight-faced and loudly, as if answering a question that was never asked, "A lot of women hit on me. I take them on. I feel I have a responsibility to the American woman."

 

Back in his office, Traficant walks past the macrame plants and 10-pound dumbbell on his desk, and sinks into a blue leather chair that sits close to a tie-rack teetering under a load of garish, skinny neckwear donated by his loyal C-SPAN following. The place feels kind of homey, and should, since he sleeps in his office to save money (he is, after all, on a subsistence salary). Traficant's lids look heavy through his auto-tint glasses, and one suspects the prosecutorial pressure is wearing on him, as over the last several months, numerous aides have been subpoenaed to testify before a grand jury. All this coming after Charles O'Nesti, his longtime (and now deceased) district director admitted that when he wasn't working for the congressman, he was moonlighting as a bagman for convicted racketeer Lenny Strollo.

 

When discussing his corruption trial, Traficant grows agitated. "I destroyed the f -- mob, and I'm very proud of that." (He seems to have missed a few, as the latest corruption sweep in the Mahoning Valley has netted 78 indictments.) As for his pending indictment, which Traficant is certain will come, he says, "My attorney will discuss the case no further." "Your attorney being you?" I ask. "Well, yeah," he says. "The man that will represent me will be a man I completely trust, and he'll be a f -- bulldog."

 

Traficant rails against federal corruption, from the debacles at Waco and Ruby Ridge all the way back to J. Edgar Hoover. "The Chicago [mafia] had pictures of that transvestite in drag," he informs me. Inevitably, he gets around to his current obsession, Janet Reno. He has no evidence she's driving the investigation against him, though he claims an FBI informant nicknamed "Cheezl" told him there's a course offered at the FBI's Quantico training center on "how to get Traficant."

 

He says he has secret affidavits to prove his charges against Reno, though he's only in the preliminary stages of his investigation. I ask to see the affidavits, suggesting he blot out the names, but he demurs. "When you play poker, do you show your whole hand, Kibosh?" he asks. "Well, I don't either. Janet Reno is a f -- traitor." If he's mistaken, he says, "All she has to do is sue me. I would sue her if she called me a f -- traitor."

 

Like all good law-flouting demagogues, from Huey Long to Marion Barry to Edwin Edwards, Traficant has a special knack for eliciting sympathy from his constituents, turning his weakness into strength, and their distrust of government into trust in Jim Traficant. Though many of his allegations are daffy, he has likely headed off any pre-election indictment. Sources familiar with the investigation say the U.S. attorney's office is not anxious to get blowtorched by Traficant for affecting the outcome of his race. Not that it could. When I ask the Ohio state Democratic chairman, who can barely recall the names of Traficant's opponents, to handicap the election, he says confidently, "Traficant will win that district." And if he's indicted? "He'll probably win by a larger margin."

 

As Traficant works himself into a healthy froth, he abruptly stands up, commanding, "Now get out. You ain't gonna catch up with me no more. Don't call me again." He is not mad. I've been with the congressman for three hours, and his chief of staff says that if he dislikes someone, "He'll maybe give you five minutes before he throws you out." Traficant hands me a souvenir American flag as a parting gift, pointing an intent finger in summation. "I am a dangerous man. You know why? Because I've seen the other side of this f -- one-eyed jack. And I know that we have a Justice Department, an IRS, a Treasury Department -- they're wagging the dog, man. No American should fear their government."

 

Perhaps Traficant should fear only half his government. After all, he still has his friends in the GOP. And when I ask a Republican leadership aide if he is at all concerned about Traficant's rants or legal woes, he laughs the satisfied laugh of one who does not have to claim ownership. "Of course not," he says. "He's a Democrat! We get all of the benefits and none of the downside." Besides, he adds, "Traficant's a good guy. We'll go out of our way to help him -- so long as he doesn't end up in jail."

 

http://www.weeklystandard.com/blogs/james-traficant-1941-2014_806245.html?page=1

 

 

[RETIREDFAN1]

R.I.P.

[KirtFalcon]

We need more politicians like Traficant who aren't afraid to take a stand on the issues based on what's best for America instead of towing the party line ....

[RETIREDFAN1]

One of my favorite dims.......

[KirtFalcon]

There aren't any more dims like him in Washington these days ....

[RETIREDFAN1]

He was definitely a libertarian, not an authoritarian like BOTH parties have evolved into today.....