A Bridge Too Far? Not Likely.

SINCE THE 2014 election could be the most decisive political moment in a generation, the most important question is: Who will be Hillary's running mate in 2016?

The second big question is: What else does Chris Christie have to do to make other Republican presidential hopefuls slip back into the woodwork? What part of “you want a piece of me?” don’t they understand? Have they no fear of—just to choose something at random—major traffic delays in their districts? Are they currently enjoying their drinking water or other public utilities? Do they like their kneecaps?

A bit harsh, perhaps, especially regarding a man whose political obituary is already being written, and whose Wikipedia entry may one day not start with “45th president of the United States,” but with the phrase “Angry Birds spokesperson.”

But Chris Christie is a survivor. He may be only six Twinkies away from not being governor of New Jersey (assuming that he eats them all in one sitting), but he enjoys a strong approval rating and, at this writing, is still innocent of all accusations against him, including humility. His only real threats for the nomination are Paul Ryan and Jeb Bush, who is currently trying to be adopted by a family with a different last name.

The influence scandal that has roiled Christie’s staff and highlighted his strong negatives happened, after all, in New Jersey. And what happens in New Jersey stays in New Jersey because, for their own protection, witnesses tend to fugetaboutit.

WHEN I READ that a member of Chris Christie’s staff emailed an associate stating “Time for some traffic problems in Fort Lee,” it sounded familiar, and not just because I’ve driven past the Fort Lee entrance to the George Washington Bridge and there are always traffic delays. Actually, “driven” might be a misnomer, since it implies forward momentum. Driving on the George Washington Bridge reminds you of the means of travel experienced by the original George Washington: namely, mule carts, which move much faster.

The George Washington Bridge crosses from New Jersey into New York City, the greatest city in the world, the place where if you can make it there you’ll make it anywhere, but to make it there you have to get there, which you can’t, on account of all the traffic.

So you stay in New Jersey and turn off at, say, the Fort Lee exit, and just hope there’s a Starbucks. Because you can always make it there. In fact, they’ll make it for you.

BUT NOW IT can be told that I, too, got in the crosshairs of state politics. Apparently, this column is popular in New Jersey because “h’rumphs” is the sound a state transportation official makes when the governor’s office knocks the wind out of him. (Another sound is “hoboken.”) So naturally a Christie staff member approached me for my support. Otherwise, he pointed out, my bridge would be shut down. “But I don’t have a bridge,” I noted sadly, not wanting to admit that having my own bridge has been a lifelong dream. Well then, he threatened, we’ll slow down your development project. But I don’t have one of those either. But I do have a cat that’s giving me problems—I rub her belly, but she refuses to rub mine—and she could use a good New Jersey talking to.

So if someone from the governor’s office could make some vaguely threatening statements, such as “Hey, Whiskers, you gotta problem? Do I amuse you?” or even “Nobody is too big to flush,” then maybe it would make a difference in her behavior.

By the way, if it helps, we call the cat “Jeb Bush.”