Because he won’t stop being, well, himself, here’s my Newt Gingrich story. 1994 I lucked into sailor of the year for my coast guard ship. It’s Fleet Week. A big deal. So I wear my fanciest uniform I’ve never worn & I go to some fancy hotel in midtown NYC...lots of famous people

It was sponsored by the Fisher House and there’s lots of famous people there. I sit at a table with Walter Cronkite, whose sailboat we had actually towed that last summer. He was so nice and cool. And then there was Newt Gingrich...

I’m from Georgia. He’s from Georgia. He’s at the peak of his alleged power. We have to shake hands. As we do, he’s looking away towards more important people or people who can give him money and I understand that. And he has a limp handshake & I get that. Lots of shaking hands...

So I shake his hand and say ‘sir, I’m from Georgia, too!’ And he never looks at me and mutters ‘ok’ as he looks for his next grift. So I get to be cool for once in my life: I pull his hand close and say ‘I’m from Georgia and I will never never vote for you’. Petty but that’s it