A Message From Judge Clarence Thomas

You Invitation For Office Hours

Tonight’s Office Hours will feature appearances by Comedy Writer Colleen Werthmann, from The Daily Show, Comedian Liam McEneaney, Professor Adnan Husain and The Rev. Barry W. Lynn.

Is that a pubic hair on my caption?

Harlan Crow has been one of my dearest friends for as long as I can remember. Those who think Harlan only likes me because of the legal favors I could perform, simply don’t know Harlan Crow. Up until recently Harlan didn’t even know what I did for a living. He thought Supreme Court Justice was my first name, and Clarence Thomas was my last.

Harlan likes me, and I like him. That’s all there is to it. He’s the yin to my yang. We both enjoy expensive gifts, I receiving them - he giving them.

And they weren’t even gifts. I would never accept a gift. These were personal hospitalities.

Am I supposed to disclose every personal hospitality extended to me by a friend?

My neighbor, Larry, gave me his old chainsaw last year. Should I disclose that? The waitress at the Olive Garden didn’t charge us for a refill on my soda, should I disclose that? Harlan Crow flies me on his private jet to an all expense paid vacation at his resort in the Adirondacks where he gets me talking about the inner workings of the Court so he can invest accordingly. I’m supposed to disclose that too? Where does it all end?

Look, I’m a public servant, and as a public servant I totally get it. I get it that sacrifices must be made for the privilege of sitting on the highest court. Which is why, when I took this job, I gave up repeatedly asking female underlings out on dates no matter how often they insisted it made them uncomfortable.

I also agreed to stop following female coworkers into the ladies room without consent to show off my photographic memory by describing in precise detail the Brazilian Nun porn I watched the night before.

I even dialed back my witticisms, forgoing my Noel Coward-like bon mots like asking attractive female coworkers if that was a pubic hair on their Diet Coke.

I gave all that up for the Court.

But I never agreed, nor would I, to becoming a casualty in the radical Left’s war on Christmas by refusing gifts. I’m sorry, did I say gifts? I meant personal hospitalities. I would never accept a gift, that would be wrong.

Did I accept $500,000 in free travel each year from Harlan? Yes. And I will do so again this year because Harlan is a Christian, and I have no right to interfere with any man’s religious freedom to be generous.

Hey, if I knew these trips were valued at $500,000 each I’d go on The Price Is Right.

I just accepted them. It never occurred to me to say, “This is a fantastic private resort Harlan, and your free meals are incredible. What would it run us if Ginni and I decide to stop being your friend and instead go out of pocket?”

You don’t ask how much a personal hospitality is worth.

Read the Bible, specifically the Hospitalities of The Magi. The Baby Jesus accepted the gold, frankincense, and myrrh from the Three Wise Men but never once said, “Can you ballpark what all this would go for on the open market in the name of full transparency?” Didn’t happen.

And let’s clear something up immediately. Harlan isn’t giving me hospitalities because I sit on the Supreme Court. I know this guy. He’d hospitality me if I were an appellate court judge or even a municipal judge. Harlan likes judges.

Some billionaires who own luxury resorts invite artists, musicians or chefs to come visit. Harlan prefers offering judicial residencies. At his resort, his guests are encouraged to learn the joy of judging by watching me judge things like how fresh the salmon at lunch was or how cinematic that last sunset turned out to be.

Because I get paid to judge, I’m always amazed at how little your run-of-the-mill weekend judge with no hopes of ever going pro actually knows about judging. Especially when it comes to judging the difference between a French Merlot and one from the Napa Valley.

I wish more people could spend time with me at these resorts just watching me judge things. They would gain a keener appreciation of how hard it is to sit on the Supreme Court.

Harlan and I get along so well because we’re not jealous of each other’s immense talent. He’s not envious of my great judging skills, and I’m not envious of his innate gift to find just the right personal hospitality to keep me coming back to his resorts.

Some accuse me of liking Harlan simply because he’s wealthy. Honestly? Up until this story broke in Pro Publica, I had no idea that he was a billionaire. I swear. I never think about what people are worth. I figured he was a multi millionaire. Turns out he’s a billionaire. Doesn’t matter to me.

And, by the way, the hospitality giving was a two way street.

Yes, his personal hospitalities given to me were in the neighborhood of $500,000 each. But, my personal hospitalities given to him were the acts of showing gratitude for his personal hospitalities to me that were in the neighborhood of $500,000 each.

That’s what dear, dear friends do. They exchange personal hospitalities.

For example, I remember waking up Christmas morning last year on his super yacht anchored off an Indonesian archipelago. Sitting on my nightstand I noticed a gift wrapped mint condition Patek Philippe watch cast in rose gold. It was a personal hospitality from Harlan Crow.

Knowing that this watch was only one of two in existence, I wanted to give Harlan a personal hospitality of equal value. I thought long and hard. How do I reciprocate?

And then it hit me. I would wear the new watch at dinner.

I wish I could wear the look on his face that night around my wrist, but I guess I’ll just have to settle with the 700,000 dollar Patek Philippe instead.