It is a chilly Wednesday morning, the day after the midterm elections that will shape the next two years of American politics, and I am waiting for an elevator at a courthouse in Fairfax, Virginia, making small talk with Newt Gingrich.
Like the rest of the nation, I would prefer to spend the day after election night on my couch, doom-scrolling on Twitter as I nurse a hangover from too much whiskey and cable TV coverage of the election results. But instead, I am in Virginia, pestering the former Speaker of the House—who would presumably also rather be home licking his election night wounds—with questions that he won’t answer.
“How do you feel about the hearing today?” I ask him as he stares down the hallway past my shoulder, where his attorneys, John Burlingame and Randy Evans, disappeared a few minutes ago to check o
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