Blowing His Own Horn

Summary

The narrative recounts the author's unexpected experience of sharing a cell with Paul Manafort in MCC federal prison, leading to an insightful comparison between Donald Trump and George Steinbrenner.

Abstract

The author, a convicted tax fraud offender, shares an unexpected turn of events where he finds himself as the cellmate of Paul Manafort in the MCC federal prison. This unique living arrangement occurs after the author's previous cellmate, a sex offender, is released, and the warden assigns Manafort as his new roommate, touting the former's fame. Despite initial skepticism, the author finds common ground with Manafort, particularly in their shared time watching Yankees games. During one such game, the author muses on the similarities between Donald Trump and George Steinbrenner, noting their shared tendency for self-promotion. Manafort, despite his political leanings, concedes to the author's observation, highlighting the subtle difference in their self-promotional styles.

Opinions

The author expresses disbelief at the surreal nature of his situation, being cellmates with high-profile individuals like Paul Manafort and Jeffrey Epstein.
The warden's enthusiasm about assigning a "famous" inmate to the author suggests a lack of understanding or disregard for the distinction between fame and infamy.
The author seems to value personal space and autonomy, as indicated by his preference for the upper bunk and his attempt to choose his own cellmate.
The author perceives both Donald Trump and George Steinbrenner as self-promoters, with the former being more direct and the latter more subtle in their approach.
Manafort's admission to the author's comparison between Trump and Steinbrenner implies a tacit acknowledgment of Trump's self-aggrandizing behavior, despite Manafort's own political ties to Trump.

The difference between Donald Trump and George Steinbrenner according to my celly, Paul Manafort

Unsplash — Chris Bair

Never in my wildest dreams could I have ever imagined that after getting convicted of tax fraud and sentenced to serve a year and a day at MCC federal prison in New York City, that I would have Paul Manafort as my celly, and spend numerous hours alone with Jeffrey Epstein on suicide-watch. I know. It sounds like bull shit. But it’s not!

Sometime in June of 2019, my sex offender bunky was released and I was blessed with my own cell for a few days until the warden walked in (they never knock) as I was reading “Anna Karenina” in my upper bunk.

“Mersey! You got a lower bunk in here, right?” (I liked the upper bunk. But mostly, inmates preferred the lower — and some who are older are entitled to that lower bunk. Manafort was one of them.)

“Yes,” I answered looking up from my book, crestfallen in the knowledge that I was about to lose my single.

“We’re giving you a new celly…” I stopped him right there. “Let me move Rob in from across the way.” (Often, when inmates had their own cell, they would arrange to move a friend in when the boom lowered and the boss wanted to move a stranger in. Better the devil you know and all that.)

“No,” the warden fired back quickly. “You’re gonna love this guy. He’s famous.”

“Famous,” I laughed incredulously. “You mean infamous. He is in federal prison.”

The warden either ignored or didn’t understand the distinction and continued “he’s really famous!”

I sat up in my bunk with interest appropriately piqued. “What? Are you moving Michael Cohen in or something?”

“Close,” he answered. “Paul Manafort!”

And that’s how I met — and got Paul Manafort — as my celly! It was an obvious choice. Paulie had been in protective custody, but the warden needed to move him into general population…and he needed to move him in with a civilized bunky. I am white, college-educated, tattooless, 69 years old, and suffered a financial felony charge. I was the obvious choice.

Moving on…Paulie and I were watching a Yankee game in the common area. (I should mention that he is a huge Yankee fan and would listen to or watch the Yankees every chance he got.)

Sometime during our viewing, I turned to Paul and observed “ya know…it strikes me that George Steinbrenner and Donald Trump are almost the same person.” Without my articulating any political affiliation, Paul realized I leaned toward the democratic side. But in this instance, he agreed I was onto something.

“The only difference between the two is that if George wanted you to know what a great guy he was, he’d hire somebody to tell you. Trump on the other hand, would just tell you himself.”

I found that to be a surprising admission for Paulie. He’d never outright admit that Trump was anything less than presidential. But he had to offer that my observation was apt.