
It seems the White House is for sale. Not the whole
thing—just pieces of it. A ballroom here, a staircase there. Maybe a tasteful little plaque that says “Generously Underwritten by the Friends of Democracy, LLC.”
It’s
all very Trumpian. The man who branded everything from vodka to steaks has apparently decided that the people’s house could use a few sponsors. Which got me thinking: If donors are allowed to
buy their way into 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, what would I get?
Let’s start small. Maybe I’d name a bathroom: “The Steven Rosenbaum Restroom.” Feels practical. I could
throw in a few sustainability upgrades—low-flow toilets, refillable soap stations—and call it philanthropy. Every time a staffer washes their hands, they could think, this moment
of hygiene brought to you by the Sustainable Media Center.
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Or maybe I’d go for the press podium. “This statement was delivered from the Rosenbaum Podium.” A little logo
engraving on the side. Not tacky, just enough to catch the light on camera when the press secretary swerves around a question.
If the naming rights go outdoors, I’ve got my eye on the
Rose Garden. Or, as I’d humbly rebrand it: the Rose(nbaum) Garden. I’m not saying we replace the flowers with QR codes, but maybe a small plaque near the tulips. It has a nice ring to it.
The Rose(nbaum) Garden: classic, patriotic, a little tongue-in-cheek.
This may sound absurd, until you realize it’s not that far from reality. Reports say the Trump White House is
soliciting private donors to fund renovations, including—you guessed it—a new ballroom. You donate, you get your name on the wall. It’s the American Dream meets the Museum of Modern
Pay-for-Play.
And then there’s the military angle. If I chip in enough, could I “sponsor” a few troops? Not own them, obviously—just rent them for a weekend event.
Maybe they guard my house or escort me to the train station. What if the Blue Angels did a flyover when I launched a new SMC initiative? I’d cover the fuel costs, of course.
Turns out
somebody already bought the troops. Not hypothetically, but literally. Timothy Mellon, a reclusive billionaire heir to the Mellon banking fortune, quietly donated $130 million to the U.S. government
to help pay the military during the shutdown. Trump announced the mystery gift on Thursday night, called the benefactor a “patriot” and a “friend,” and refused to name him. By
Friday, two people familiar with the matter identified him as Mellon.
Mellon, who lives mostly in Wyoming and rarely gives interviews, is a longtime Trump backer and has poured hundreds of
millions into his campaigns. Last year alone he cut a $50 million check to a pro-Trump super PAC—one of the largest single political donations in U.S. history. He’s also supported Robert
F. Kennedy Jr., donating to both his presidential run and his anti-vaccine group, Children’s Health Defense.
The Pentagon says it accepted Mellon’s gift under its “general
gift acceptance authority,” which sounds suspiciously like a legal shrug. The donation, a spokesman said, was made on the condition that it be used to offset the cost of service members’
salaries and benefits.
So yes, in theory, you can now write a nine-figure check to pay the troops. Whether that violates the Antideficiency Act—which bars agencies from spending beyond
congressional appropriations—is, apparently, still up for debate.
Do the math: $130 million covers about $100 per active-duty service member. Not exactly a game-changer, but a stunning
precedent. America’s defense, brought to you by private subscription. Maybe next time, we’ll see “The Space Force—Presented by Tesla.”
The larger point is that
this isn’t just a story about one eccentric donor. It’s about a government that’s decided public service can be privately financed. And once you start accepting checks to keep the
lights on at the Pentagon, it’s a short walk to selling naming rights to the Situation Room.
There’s a bill in Congress trying to stop this trend. Representative Mark Takano
(D-California) introduced legislation that would ban private donor naming rights at the White House. His office called the practice “extraordinarily unusual, deeply disturbing,” which is
polite DC-speak for “What the hell is happening?” But until that passes, we’re living in an era where the deep state has given way to the Pay-for-Play State.
Technically,
Trump may not be breaking the law. Federal ethics rules are famously full of gray zones. If the donation doesn’t explicitly buy access or influence, it’s just a gift. But in politics,
gifts tend to come with strings—especially when they’re attached to chandeliers in a donor-funded ballroom.
So no, it’s probably not illegal. It’s just corrosive. It
turns governance into a naming-rights contest. It makes public service feel like a corporate sponsorship. And it tells every American who can’t buy their way in that the White House isn’t
really theirs anymore—it belongs to whoever wrote the biggest check.
Still, I have to admit, the Rose(nbaum) Garden has a nice ring to it. Maybe I’ll get a quote from the GSA.
Trump’s Truth, it turns out, is for sale to the highest bidder.