For most of my career, I took pride in not having to dress up or wear a tie to work. That was basically an easy path for me since, in my line of work, I seldom bumped into people dressed in the costumes that business people wear.
I drank whiskey with plumbers, told lies with construction workers, laughed with club and restaurant personnel—none of whom wore suits—meanwhile publishing stories about persons who all seemed to wear suits to work. I wanted none of that. It's not personal. I respect people, not suits. Anyway, I look like hell in a suit.
Over time and in spurts that lasted from weeks or months or years, my workplace attire ran a gamut of phases. For a few years, it was Hawaiian shirts. Nothing but Hawaiian shirts. Then it was a period of solid colors. I had a serious dark glasses phase. Another with ball caps. In most years, below the belt was denim only, preferably Levi's. In some years, it was cutoffs or cargo pants—even cargo pants cutoffs—but often as not, gym pants. In a delusional period, I wore vests. Then, suspenders. The only consistent clothing I've ever worn is red University of Utah sports apparel—to the point that stray dogs consider me to be a useful part of their street furniture.
I kept a tie, dress shirt and jacket for those days I absolutely had to look the part, most often for funerals. Other than that, I was, and remain, a slob. Thus, I know a slob when I see one, and I'm here to announce—belatedly, judging from the thrashing the he's already earned on Twitter—that former high school teacher, former member of the Utah House of Representatives, former Utah congressman, former chair of the Utah Republican Party and, as of Monday night, former member of the Utah Independent Redistricting Committee (UIRC) Rob "Do you dig my hair?" Bishop is a slob at heart. If it makes you feel better, Rob, old dogs and children dig retro hair, especially on men like you and me who still have all of theirs. Yours is real, right?
It wasn't that long ago that Bishop was named one of the best-dressed men in all of Congress. Mr. Three Piece Suit. My, how far they fall. It was bad enough that he quit the UIRC in a revealing, partisan snit. But when he stood to piously leave the committee, well, a few dogs and several of his own hairs changed their mind right there about Rob Bishop.
Fox13's Ben Winslow (a genuine fashionista) reported that Bishop was wearing a hoodie, shorts and sandals. Huh? It was as if Bishop was taking his role 100% seriously—not. The accounts I've read don't reveal if Bishop committed the fashion faux pas of also wearing socks—a Utah thing—but that's of little consequence. The point is Utahns were left wondering: Who is this Austin Powers-wannabe, anyway?
Well, he may be a former teacher, but he never taught math. Regarding his distaste for working with persons not of his party, he said, "If there's a minority party with 30% of the vote, it should tell them that three-fourths of the state is not agreeing with them, and they should change their method somewhere. Instead, there are groups out there that want this commission to do it for them."
No, actually, we don't want that. We want to know how it is that a person can be elected to Congress without understanding that one-fourth of something and 30% of the same thing are not equal. Is that so hard?
Bishop is known for such intellectual butchery. In 2019, he was named the Crazy/Stupid Republican of the Day by the Daily Kos. That was when he proclaimed that the Green New Deal was "tantamount to genocide" and his defensive explanation for believing that was because "I'm an ethnic. I'm a Westerner." I've had family members traipsing upon and stealing from the native inhabitants of the West since the 1840s, so I can credibly deny the notion that "Westerner" is an ethnicity. Ethnics have suffered miserably here. As a civics teacher, which he was, it seems like Bishop would know that. Color me silly, but I see nothing in the Bishop portfolio that indicates ethnicity of any kind. He's super bland.
Thus, he read the room, saw he was losing and decided to make his glorious exit—we presume similarly adorned Ted Cruz was waiting in the wings with buddy flight tickets to Mexico. He knows the UIRC will likely not produce fruit for the Utahns without a voice in Congress, but he had to dance anyway. When this all gets kicked back to the Legislature, Utah can count on House Speaker Brad Wilson to make sure Salt Lake County gets screwed in the next district alignments. That is his job. Not to legislate, but to make it so legislation isn't necessary.
That makes governance easy—keeping dissent out. Dissent doesn't sit well with Bishop, who thinks that by being fair to Salt Lake County—currently sliced three ways out of representation—somehow deprives Kanosh its voice. It doesn't. Keeping the status quo deprives all of Utah of an honest discussion and meaningful compromise.
During this mapping period, Bishop had to work with persons he despises—Democrats and liberals. The tell was when he said to them, "I respect each of you as an individual." How awful, Rob, that you were in the minority for a few meetings. Gee, if only I could relate to being in the minority. If only I could just up and run away. Enjoy Cancun, Rob.
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