As posted to Politics Daily in response to “Is Sally Quinn about to Blink” She may blink, but she won’t spit! “In Washington before there was something known as a “Lewinsky”, there was a Sally Quinn.” That pretty much sums up in a nut shell this narcissist’s reputation. Her only talent being an ability to stifle her gag reflex coupled with a taste for gristle. Those 108 year old social types (cave dwellers in Washington parlance), knew her for what she was if they knew her at all, never accepted her, never allowed their daughters to associate with her or their sons to date her. Its really only since the old guard has passed on (particularly legendary newspaper woman and Washington Post publisher Katherine Graham who tolerated Quinn to placate Ben but who Quinn has desperately attempted to be the second coming of) that Sal has been able to kick her Norma Desmond, Blanche Dubois personalities into high gear. By reinventing her CV to imbue her parents with some stature (who knew?) and herself with some actual work experience of the nature acquired sitting or standing Quinn has leveraged her relationship with Bradlee and her Elena Ceaucescu self into a being a kind of social cudgel in DC. Her father was in the Army and clearly Ol’ Sally knew her way around a barracks but the rest is pure fantasy. Ben Bradlee brought her on board at The Post saying, when it was revealed that even then she couldn’t write, “well nobody is perfect.” Before that her claim to fame had been throwing boozy pajama parties featuring herself, a dozen or so assorted men, a bottle of hootch, a tub of Crisco, and a warm coke. It has been said that Quinn and her “parties” set the benchmarks for the emerging gay bathhouse scene in the 70s. For some reason Ben bought the cow and Mustang Sally stashed the requisite bun in the oven, the hapless Quinn Bradlee. He suffers from velocardiofacial syndrome which may or may not be related to fetal alcohol syndrome or the after effects of syphilis. Needless to say she couldn’t quit drinking along as that was her hold on Ben once the allure of her doing lustily what most wives wouldn’t wore thin. One could only guess that Bradlee, having a family already, only went along to shut Quinn up and no one has ever suggested that there is anything “maternal” about her. Poor Quinn Bradlee is somewhat caught in a wedge between his father’s dotage and Cruella de Ville’s venality, guilt and anger. There are those who say his fiancee, Baby Mama Yoga is “suspect” but who knows her motives. She is much married already and has secured her income stream with the heir apparent. She is also, apparently, Rahm Emanuel’s yoga instructor which has spawned a tremendously funny speculation that the two have come up with a new yoga position, “the marking dog”! Nonetheless, there is some hope the poor guy won’t find himself completely estranged from his father’s other children because he really will need them. Sally Quinn never could write. It has long been accepted that anything appearing under her name has been ghost written by Post staffers. Bleeding out from between the lines of her bilge is a kind of elitist, fascist, rascist nostalgia for an Old Southern order wherein Miss Sally is sitting on the veranda sipping her mint juleps awaitin’ her beau while the darkies are lowin’ in the field. She has insulted and high-hatted both the well and low born. She has been no part of any of the important socio-political or civil rights advances born out through her tenure in Washington. The nasty, snarky, holier then thou attitude from such a clear low life is what people resent most. Quinn’s reputation is at this point irredeemable. Changing one column won’t do anything,(her most recent about “God Punishing Children” - watch out Quinn- is no improvement) to turn around years of revulsion. The only thing is for Quinn to essentially leave town, there is no coming back from this for her. When Ben Bradlee dies it will get even nastier. Who knows though, a woman who has so degraded herself in so many ways, over such a long run will probably get off on it. FYI - My personal favorite Sally Ceaucescu Quinn vignette comes from her own voice and concerns the day she showed up at Grey Gardens (which she and Bradlee subsequently bought) and bamboozled Little Edie Beale into allowing her to purloin what was left of the family heirlooms in the attic. Of course, ever since then, in her own mind Sally has been a Bouvier, oh even better, make that, Sally has been Jacqueline Bouvier! She’s ready for her close up Mr. DeMille. “Big? I’m still Big! Its the pictures that got small!” Posted By: Jack Star |