By Washington Post Opinions Staff:
HIATT: You say that. But you’ve also said, “In the good old days, he would have been ripped out of his seat so fast, you wouldn’t believe it.” Isn’t that condoning violence?
TRUMP: No, because what I am referring to is, we’ve had some very bad people come in. We had one guy — and I said it — he had the voice — and this was what I was referring to — and I said, “Boy, I’d like to smash him.” You know, I said that. I’d like to punch him. This guy was unbelievably loud. He had a voice like Pavarotti. I said if I was his manager I would have made a lot of money for him, because he had the best voice. I mean, the guy was unbelievable, how loud he was. And he was a swinger. He was hitting people. He was punching and swinging and screaming — you couldn’t make — so you have to stop. You know, there is also something about the First Amendment, but you had to stop. And, so, this one man was very violent and very loud. And when he was being taken out, he walked out like this, with his finger way up, like, “screw everybody.” And that’s when I made that statement. He was absolutely out — I mean, he hit people and he screamed and then he was walking out and he’s giving everybody the finger. And they don’t talk about that. See, they don’t talk about that. They say, “Donald, wait a second, Donald, don’t” —
HIATT: But your answer is you condone violence when the guy is really egregious and terrible?
TRUMP: No, I condone strong law and order. I’ll tell you what they —
HIATT: Rip him out of his seat, punch him in the face, isn’t that violent?
TRUMP: Well he punched other people.
The Full Article (March 21, 2016)
Wednesday, June 29, 2016
Monday, June 27, 2016
Mother Jones: Here's How Donald Trump Treats the Little People
By Kevin Drum:
He would have been personally bankrupt, too, but his creditors decided to put him on a leash and let him try to work his way out. He made steady progress, but the casinos continued to be a millstone around his neck. By the mid-'90s, however, the stock market was getting hot and lots of small investors, then as now, were mesmerized by the Trump name. So Trump decided that as long as there were lots of rubes who still thought he was a great businessman, he might as well take advantage of them. Timothy O'Brien tells the story in TrumpNation:
In a masterstroke of financial maneuvering, and in a tribute to the sucker-born-every-minute theorem, [Trump] managed to take two of the Trump casinos—the Plaza and the Taj Mahal—public in 1995 and 1996, at a time when Donald was unable to make his bank payments and was heading toward personal bankruptcy. The stock sales allowed Donald to buy the casinos back from the banks and unload huge amounts of debt. The offering yanked Donald out of the financial graveyard and left him with a 25 percent stake in a company he once owned entirely.
…In one fell swoop someone else became responsible for the debts that almost sank Donald…Exactly what investors thought they might get for their Trump Hotels investment wasn't entirely clear. Donald had already demonstrated that casinos weren't his forte, and investors were buying stock in a company that was immediately larded with debts that made it difficult, if not impossible, to upgrade the operations.
…Allan Sloan, the financial writer who had opined with great accuracy on many things Trump, offered a fair warning to Trump Hotels' investors: "Shareholders and bondholders have to be total fools ever to think that Donald Trump will put their interests ahead of his own."…Donald spent several years proving Sloan correct.
…Just a few months after Trump Hotels absorbed the Taj, Donald sold his last Atlantic City casino, the Castle, to the public company. That is, Donald sold his own casino, with all of its heavy debts, to a public company he controlled. The $490 million price tag for the Castle was about $100 million more than analysts thought it was worth…sending the company's stock into a nosedive from which it never recovered.
…Although Trump Hotels' shares were sinking and there were no earnings to be seen, Donald paid himself $7 million for his handiwork at the company in 1996…Jerry Useem at Fortune took note in 2000 of Donald's "disquieting” tendency to "use the casino company as his own personal piggy bank." In addition to the multimillion-dollar bonuses Donald was lifting out of Trump Hotels, Useem pointed out that "the pilots of his personal 727 are on the casino company's payroll" and that in 1998 Donald "had the already cash-strapped company lend him $26 million to pay off a personal loan."
The Full Story (March 14, 2016)
Friday, June 24, 2016
Crain's New York Business: Trump qualified for a tax break for New Yorkers making $500K or less
By Aaron Elstein:
It's called the STAR program, which stands for the New York State School Tax Relief Program and has been around since 1997. It offers an approximately $300 annual benefit for those who qualify. Hundreds of thousands of New York homeowners get it.
Here's where it gets interesting for Trump: To be eligible for STAR, a married couple must have annual income of $500,000 or less. One wouldn't think a guy as rich as Trump claims to be would qualify, but records filed with the city's Department of Finance show he received a $302 STAR benefit on his latest property-tax bill for his Trump Tower penthouse on Fifth Avenue.
That means whatever his annual income is, it's less than $500,000. (The state defines income for STAR purposes as federal adjusted gross income minus the taxable amount of total distributions from annuities or individual retirement accounts.) And Trump would have to have declared his New York apartment as his primary residence and sent the state a copy of his federal income-tax return in order to qualify for the $302 tax break.
"It's strange that a billionaire would apply for a $302 tax benefit and, moreover, that he would take it," said Martha Stark, a property-tax expert and former New York City finance commissioner who is now a lecturer at Baruch College.
The Full Article (March 8, 2016)
[Editor's Note: A follow-up article is included below]
Crain's New York Business: Trump's latest property tax bill, out June 3, shows he once again received a middle-class tax break, by Aaron Elstein:
The presumptive GOP presidential nominee’s latest property tax bill shows he was awarded a credit under the STAR program, or the New York State School Tax Relief Program. To be eligible for STAR, a married couple must have annual income of $500,000 or less. You wouldn’t think a guy as rich as Trump claims to be would qualify, but he has received the credit for several years and records filed over the weekend with the city’s Department of Finance show he received a $304 STAR tax break for his Trump Tower penthouse.
While the amount of the credit is trivial for a high-roller, the fact that Trump gets it calls into question his claims that he's "really rich" with a fortune worth in excess of $10 billion. Trump's tax bill comes to around $96,611 after receiving a condo abatement worth $20,493.
Trump spokeswoman Hope Hicks said the city made an error in providing the tax credit and a correction "is in process." When Crain’s first reported on the STAR credit in March, a spokeswoman for the mayor’s office agreed an error had been made, though she wouldn’t explain how it happened. On Monday, however, a city spokeswoman told CNN that it was "reviewing Mr. Trump's exemption status," which suggests the city isn't so sure it made a mistake.
The city’s Department of Finance has said it checks with New York state tax authorities every year to make sure applicants for the STAR benefit have income under $500,000. The state receives a list of STAR recipients every year and notifies the city of who is eligible. The state defines income for STAR purposes as federal adjusted gross income minus the taxable amount of total distributions from annuities or individual retirement accounts.
The Full Article (June 6, 2016)
It's called the STAR program, which stands for the New York State School Tax Relief Program and has been around since 1997. It offers an approximately $300 annual benefit for those who qualify. Hundreds of thousands of New York homeowners get it.
Here's where it gets interesting for Trump: To be eligible for STAR, a married couple must have annual income of $500,000 or less. One wouldn't think a guy as rich as Trump claims to be would qualify, but records filed with the city's Department of Finance show he received a $302 STAR benefit on his latest property-tax bill for his Trump Tower penthouse on Fifth Avenue.
That means whatever his annual income is, it's less than $500,000. (The state defines income for STAR purposes as federal adjusted gross income minus the taxable amount of total distributions from annuities or individual retirement accounts.) And Trump would have to have declared his New York apartment as his primary residence and sent the state a copy of his federal income-tax return in order to qualify for the $302 tax break.
"It's strange that a billionaire would apply for a $302 tax benefit and, moreover, that he would take it," said Martha Stark, a property-tax expert and former New York City finance commissioner who is now a lecturer at Baruch College.
The Full Article (March 8, 2016)
[Editor's Note: A follow-up article is included below]
Crain's New York Business: Trump's latest property tax bill, out June 3, shows he once again received a middle-class tax break, by Aaron Elstein:
The presumptive GOP presidential nominee’s latest property tax bill shows he was awarded a credit under the STAR program, or the New York State School Tax Relief Program. To be eligible for STAR, a married couple must have annual income of $500,000 or less. You wouldn’t think a guy as rich as Trump claims to be would qualify, but he has received the credit for several years and records filed over the weekend with the city’s Department of Finance show he received a $304 STAR tax break for his Trump Tower penthouse.
While the amount of the credit is trivial for a high-roller, the fact that Trump gets it calls into question his claims that he's "really rich" with a fortune worth in excess of $10 billion. Trump's tax bill comes to around $96,611 after receiving a condo abatement worth $20,493.
Trump spokeswoman Hope Hicks said the city made an error in providing the tax credit and a correction "is in process." When Crain’s first reported on the STAR credit in March, a spokeswoman for the mayor’s office agreed an error had been made, though she wouldn’t explain how it happened. On Monday, however, a city spokeswoman told CNN that it was "reviewing Mr. Trump's exemption status," which suggests the city isn't so sure it made a mistake.
The city’s Department of Finance has said it checks with New York state tax authorities every year to make sure applicants for the STAR benefit have income under $500,000. The state receives a list of STAR recipients every year and notifies the city of who is eligible. The state defines income for STAR purposes as federal adjusted gross income minus the taxable amount of total distributions from annuities or individual retirement accounts.
The Full Article (June 6, 2016)
Wednesday, June 22, 2016
New York Times: Golfers Say Trump Reneged on Deal
By Joe Nocera:
Three days after the sale was completed, Trump held a meeting at his new resort. He told the assembled members that he was eager to make Trump National Jupiter “one of the finest clubs anywhere in the world!” as he put it in a Dec. 17 letter that reiterated what he had said in the meeting. But its membership rules were “antiquated,” preventing the resort from becoming “ultra-luxurious” and “ultra-prestigious.”
He told the members that if they wanted to remain in the resort, they would have to give up their refundable deposit; in return, he would freeze their dues for three years (saving them, at most, $20,000), and give them the right to play at other Trump golf courses (for a fee, of course). Members who stayed but didn’t accept that deal would be denied those benefits and see an immediate dues increase of $4,000. Stuck with the homes and time shares they had bought, many of the home-owning members accepted the deal.
But there was also one other category of members: those on the resignation list. By the time Trump took over the Jupiter resort, the resignation list had grown to an astonishing 150 members. That was more than half the club.
During the time the Ritz ran the resort, people who put themselves on the resignation list still had access to the resort and the golf course, and they still paid dues. And why wouldn’t they? Until new members joined, allowing them to recoup their deposit, they were still members of the resort. They hadn’t resigned, but simply announced their desire to resign.
Trump, however, wanted nothing to do with them. He immediately barred them from the club, and said he would no longer accept their dues. (According to a brief filed by the plaintiffs in the class-action suit, Trump later complained that the people on the resignation list were in arrears on their dues.) As he bluntly put it in his Dec. 17 letter, “If you choose to remain on the resignation list — you’re out.”
According to one attendee, the members listened in stunned silence.
The Full Article (February 26, 2016)
Three days after the sale was completed, Trump held a meeting at his new resort. He told the assembled members that he was eager to make Trump National Jupiter “one of the finest clubs anywhere in the world!” as he put it in a Dec. 17 letter that reiterated what he had said in the meeting. But its membership rules were “antiquated,” preventing the resort from becoming “ultra-luxurious” and “ultra-prestigious.”
He told the members that if they wanted to remain in the resort, they would have to give up their refundable deposit; in return, he would freeze their dues for three years (saving them, at most, $20,000), and give them the right to play at other Trump golf courses (for a fee, of course). Members who stayed but didn’t accept that deal would be denied those benefits and see an immediate dues increase of $4,000. Stuck with the homes and time shares they had bought, many of the home-owning members accepted the deal.
But there was also one other category of members: those on the resignation list. By the time Trump took over the Jupiter resort, the resignation list had grown to an astonishing 150 members. That was more than half the club.
During the time the Ritz ran the resort, people who put themselves on the resignation list still had access to the resort and the golf course, and they still paid dues. And why wouldn’t they? Until new members joined, allowing them to recoup their deposit, they were still members of the resort. They hadn’t resigned, but simply announced their desire to resign.
Trump, however, wanted nothing to do with them. He immediately barred them from the club, and said he would no longer accept their dues. (According to a brief filed by the plaintiffs in the class-action suit, Trump later complained that the people on the resignation list were in arrears on their dues.) As he bluntly put it in his Dec. 17 letter, “If you choose to remain on the resignation list — you’re out.”
According to one attendee, the members listened in stunned silence.
The Full Article (February 26, 2016)
Monday, June 20, 2016
Rolling Stone: How America Made Donald Trump Unstoppable
By Matt Taibbi:
It's a few minutes after that when a woman in the crowd shouts that Ted Cruz is a pussy. She will later tell a journalist she supports Trump because his balls are the size of "watermelons," while his opponents' balls are more like "grapes" or "raisins."
Trump's balls are unaware of this, but he instinctively likes her comment and decides to go into headline-making mode. "I never expect to hear that from you again!" he says, grinning. "She said he's a pussy. That's terrible." Then, theatrically, he turns his back to the crowd. As the 500 or so reporters in attendance scramble to instantly make this the most important piece of news in the world – in less than a year Trump has succeeded in turning the USA into a massive high school – the candidate beams.
What's he got to be insecure about? The American electoral system is opening before him like a flower.
The Full Article (February 24, 2016)
It's a few minutes after that when a woman in the crowd shouts that Ted Cruz is a pussy. She will later tell a journalist she supports Trump because his balls are the size of "watermelons," while his opponents' balls are more like "grapes" or "raisins."
Trump's balls are unaware of this, but he instinctively likes her comment and decides to go into headline-making mode. "I never expect to hear that from you again!" he says, grinning. "She said he's a pussy. That's terrible." Then, theatrically, he turns his back to the crowd. As the 500 or so reporters in attendance scramble to instantly make this the most important piece of news in the world – in less than a year Trump has succeeded in turning the USA into a massive high school – the candidate beams.
What's he got to be insecure about? The American electoral system is opening before him like a flower.
The Full Article (February 24, 2016)
Friday, June 17, 2016
The Weekly Standard: Nine Tales of Trump at His Trumpiest
By Matt LaBash:
My personal favorite, however, has to be the time Trump went after Julius and Eddie Trump (no relation to Donald) for having the misfortune of sharing his last name. As Crain's tells it, back in 1984, the non-megalomaniacal-billionaire Trumps had bid on a drugstore chain, their company name being the Trump Group. But a letter was mistakenly sent to the (Donald) Trump Organization from the publisher of Drug Store News, welcoming the wrong Trump to the industry.
The next day, Trump's pitbull lawyer, the late and legendary Roy Cohn, demanded that the other Trump Group change its name by the following day or there would be blood. Trump filed suit, alleging of the other Trumps, who were born in South Africa, that they were, as Crain's put it, "nothing but a pair of late-arriving immigrants trying to piggyback on his good name."
The "impostor" Trumps pointed out that they were formidable Trumps, too. They'd been profiled by Forbes in 1976, well before most people had any idea who Donald Trump was. Before they registered "the Trump Group" in 1982, the only companies that turned up in their search were those connected with mollusk pesticides, nut candy, and toilet paper.
After the case lingered for five years, a state judge smacked down The Donald, essentially telling him his name wasn't the special snowflake he thought it was. If Donald Trump had only demanded to see the birth certificates — which he's since become adept at doing — he'd have realized that the other Trumps had been using their last name longer than he has.
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
Vanity Fair: Donald Trump Really Doesn't Want Me To Tell You This, But...
By Mark Bowden:
I was prepared to like him as I boarded his black 727 at La Guardia for the flight to Mar-a-Lago, his Florida home—prepared to discover that his over-the-top public persona was a clever pose. That underneath was an ironic wit, an ordinary but clever guy. But no. With Trump, what you see is what you get. His behavior was cringe-worthy. He showed off the gilded interior of his plane—calling me over to inspect a Renoir on its walls, beckoning me to lean in closely to see . . . what? The luminosity of the brush strokes? The masterly use of color? No. The signature. “Worth $10 million,” he told me. Time after time the stories he told me didn’t check out, from Michael Jackson’s romantic weekend at Mar-a-Lago with his then wife Lisa Marie Presley (they stayed at opposite ends of the estate) to the rug in one bedroom he said was designed by Walt Disney when he was 18 (it wasn’t) to the strength of his marriage to Maples (they would split months later).
It was hard to watch the way he treated those around him, issuing peremptory orders—“Polish this, Tony. Today.” He met with the lady who selected his drapery for the Florida estate—“The best! The best! She’s a genius!”—who had selected a sampling of fabrics for him to choose from, all different shades of gold. He left the choice to her, saying only, “I want it really rich. Rich, rich, elegant, incredible.” Then, “Don’t disappoint me.” It was a pattern. Trump did not make decisions. He surrounded himself with “geniuses” and delegated. So long as you did not “disappoint” him—and it was never clear how to avoid doing so—you were gold.
What was clear was how fast and far one could fall from favor. The trip from “genius” to “idiot” was a flash. The former pilots who flew his plane were geniuses, until they made one too many bumpy landings and became “fucking idiots.” The gold carpeting selected in his absence for the locker rooms in the spa at Mar-a-Lago? “What kind of fucking idiot . . . ?” I watched as Trump strutted around the beautifully groomed clay tennis courts on his estate, managed by noted tennis pro Anthony Boulle. The courts had been prepped meticulously for a full day of scheduled matches. Trump took exception to the design of the spaces between courts. In particular, he didn’t like a small metal box—a pump and cooler for the water fountain alongside—which he thought looked ugly. He first questioned its placement, then crudely disparaged it, then kicked the box, which didn’t budge, and then stooped—red-faced and fuming—to tear it loose from its moorings, rupturing a water line and sending a geyser to soak the courts. Boulle looked horrified, a weekend of tennis abruptly drowned. Catching a glimpse of me watching, Trump grimaced.
The Full Article (December 10, 2015)
I was prepared to like him as I boarded his black 727 at La Guardia for the flight to Mar-a-Lago, his Florida home—prepared to discover that his over-the-top public persona was a clever pose. That underneath was an ironic wit, an ordinary but clever guy. But no. With Trump, what you see is what you get. His behavior was cringe-worthy. He showed off the gilded interior of his plane—calling me over to inspect a Renoir on its walls, beckoning me to lean in closely to see . . . what? The luminosity of the brush strokes? The masterly use of color? No. The signature. “Worth $10 million,” he told me. Time after time the stories he told me didn’t check out, from Michael Jackson’s romantic weekend at Mar-a-Lago with his then wife Lisa Marie Presley (they stayed at opposite ends of the estate) to the rug in one bedroom he said was designed by Walt Disney when he was 18 (it wasn’t) to the strength of his marriage to Maples (they would split months later).
It was hard to watch the way he treated those around him, issuing peremptory orders—“Polish this, Tony. Today.” He met with the lady who selected his drapery for the Florida estate—“The best! The best! She’s a genius!”—who had selected a sampling of fabrics for him to choose from, all different shades of gold. He left the choice to her, saying only, “I want it really rich. Rich, rich, elegant, incredible.” Then, “Don’t disappoint me.” It was a pattern. Trump did not make decisions. He surrounded himself with “geniuses” and delegated. So long as you did not “disappoint” him—and it was never clear how to avoid doing so—you were gold.
What was clear was how fast and far one could fall from favor. The trip from “genius” to “idiot” was a flash. The former pilots who flew his plane were geniuses, until they made one too many bumpy landings and became “fucking idiots.” The gold carpeting selected in his absence for the locker rooms in the spa at Mar-a-Lago? “What kind of fucking idiot . . . ?” I watched as Trump strutted around the beautifully groomed clay tennis courts on his estate, managed by noted tennis pro Anthony Boulle. The courts had been prepped meticulously for a full day of scheduled matches. Trump took exception to the design of the spaces between courts. In particular, he didn’t like a small metal box—a pump and cooler for the water fountain alongside—which he thought looked ugly. He first questioned its placement, then crudely disparaged it, then kicked the box, which didn’t budge, and then stooped—red-faced and fuming—to tear it loose from its moorings, rupturing a water line and sending a geyser to soak the courts. Boulle looked horrified, a weekend of tennis abruptly drowned. Catching a glimpse of me watching, Trump grimaced.
The Full Article (December 10, 2015)
Monday, June 13, 2016
Vanity Fair: Steel Traps and Short Fingers
By Graydon Carter:
The myriad vulgarities of Donald Trump—examples of which are retailed daily on Web sites and front pages these days—are not news to those of us who have been living downwind of him for any period of time. I first encountered Trump more than 30 years ago. Back then he was a flashy go-getter from an outer borough eager to make his name in Manhattan real estate. Which he succeeded in doing in the only way he knew how: by putting his name in oversize type on anything he was associated with—buildings, yes, but also vodka, golf courses, starchy ties, and even a sham of a real-estate school. Most people who own private planes include their initials as part of the tail number. Not Trump. On his campaign jet, a Boeing 757, his name runs from the cockpit to the wings—in gold letters, 10 feet high.
Like so many bullies, Trump has skin of gossamer. He thinks nothing of saying the most hurtful thing about someone else, but when he hears a whisper that runs counter to his own vainglorious self-image, he coils like a caged ferret. Just to drive him a little bit crazy, I took to referring to him as a “short-fingered vulgarian” in the pages of Spy magazine. That was more than a quarter of a century ago. To this day, I receive the occasional envelope from Trump. There is always a photo of him—generally a tear sheet from a magazine. On all of them he has circled his hand in gold Sharpie in a valiant effort to highlight the length of his fingers. I almost feel sorry for the poor fellow because, to me, the fingers still look abnormally stubby. The most recent offering arrived earlier this year, before his decision to go after the Republican presidential nomination. Like the other packages, this one included a circled hand and the words, also written in gold Sharpie: “See, not so short!” I sent the picture back by return mail with a note attached, saying, “Actually, quite short.” Which I can only assume gave him fits.
The Full Article (November 2015)
The myriad vulgarities of Donald Trump—examples of which are retailed daily on Web sites and front pages these days—are not news to those of us who have been living downwind of him for any period of time. I first encountered Trump more than 30 years ago. Back then he was a flashy go-getter from an outer borough eager to make his name in Manhattan real estate. Which he succeeded in doing in the only way he knew how: by putting his name in oversize type on anything he was associated with—buildings, yes, but also vodka, golf courses, starchy ties, and even a sham of a real-estate school. Most people who own private planes include their initials as part of the tail number. Not Trump. On his campaign jet, a Boeing 757, his name runs from the cockpit to the wings—in gold letters, 10 feet high.
Like so many bullies, Trump has skin of gossamer. He thinks nothing of saying the most hurtful thing about someone else, but when he hears a whisper that runs counter to his own vainglorious self-image, he coils like a caged ferret. Just to drive him a little bit crazy, I took to referring to him as a “short-fingered vulgarian” in the pages of Spy magazine. That was more than a quarter of a century ago. To this day, I receive the occasional envelope from Trump. There is always a photo of him—generally a tear sheet from a magazine. On all of them he has circled his hand in gold Sharpie in a valiant effort to highlight the length of his fingers. I almost feel sorry for the poor fellow because, to me, the fingers still look abnormally stubby. The most recent offering arrived earlier this year, before his decision to go after the Republican presidential nomination. Like the other packages, this one included a circled hand and the words, also written in gold Sharpie: “See, not so short!” I sent the picture back by return mail with a note attached, saying, “Actually, quite short.” Which I can only assume gave him fits.
The Full Article (November 2015)
Friday, June 10, 2016
Forbes: Inside The Epic Fantasy That's Driven Donald Trump For 33 Years
by Randall Lane:
Trump would rather take me up to his three-story penthouse and prove it’s surely worth twice the $100 million value we put on it. An offer to see the over-the-top Versailles-in-the-sky needs no arm-twisting, but Trump sells it anyway: “I’ll show you the first floor of my apartment, which I’ve never done before–I don’t do that.”
Except he has. To Access Hollywood. And Newsweek. And Extra. And a FORBES photographer way back in 2000. Heck, his 60 Minutes interview would take place in the first floor of the penthouse the next day, to be shared with 15 million people on Sunday. Trump has never let small details get in the way of good pitch.
In 1990, however, Trump hyperbole blew back on him. The New York real estate market was crashing, his Atlantic City casinos began struggling, and he was underwater with his new toy, the Trump Shuttle airline. In 1989 FORBES had his net worth at $1.7 billion. By spring 1990 FORBES figured it was $500 million at best. By that fall the overleveraged Trump was “within hailing distance of zero” and dropped from The Forbes 400.
As with today, Trump sat in his corner office and provided a rebuttal. It wasn’t very convincing. “I’m going to show you cash-flow numbers I’ve never shown anyone before,” he said back then, in familiar spin mode–but he folded the pages to obscure the final column. And while he insisted he was worth between $4 billion and $5 billion, FORBES obtained records that Trump had submitted to a governmental body, professing that as of May 1989 his net assets were only $1.5 billion–one-third of what he had told us and even a bit less than the number FORBES, which strives for conservative estimates, had arrived at the previous year.
The fibbing was more brazen when they delved into specifics. In 1988 Trump sent FORBES a document listing his personal residences–including Mar-a-Lago, his Palm Beach mansion–with a total net value of $50 million. At the same time sworn statements placed their total asset value at $30 million, along with a debt load of $40 million–a net liability. Trump also said he owned $159 million in stock and bonds, all unencumbered. But documents filed with the SEC showed that he borrowed big-time to buy the stock, which subsequently dipped.
Trump did not like this challenge to his reputation. He published an essay for the Los Angeles Times syndicate: “Forbes Carried Out Personal Vendetta in Print.” He argued that the “willfully wrong” piece was driven by the desire to sell magazines and damage his reputation. He told ABC’s Sam Donaldson that “Forbes has been after me for years, consistently after me.”
The Full Article (September 29, 2015)
Trump would rather take me up to his three-story penthouse and prove it’s surely worth twice the $100 million value we put on it. An offer to see the over-the-top Versailles-in-the-sky needs no arm-twisting, but Trump sells it anyway: “I’ll show you the first floor of my apartment, which I’ve never done before–I don’t do that.”
Except he has. To Access Hollywood. And Newsweek. And Extra. And a FORBES photographer way back in 2000. Heck, his 60 Minutes interview would take place in the first floor of the penthouse the next day, to be shared with 15 million people on Sunday. Trump has never let small details get in the way of good pitch.
In 1990, however, Trump hyperbole blew back on him. The New York real estate market was crashing, his Atlantic City casinos began struggling, and he was underwater with his new toy, the Trump Shuttle airline. In 1989 FORBES had his net worth at $1.7 billion. By spring 1990 FORBES figured it was $500 million at best. By that fall the overleveraged Trump was “within hailing distance of zero” and dropped from The Forbes 400.
As with today, Trump sat in his corner office and provided a rebuttal. It wasn’t very convincing. “I’m going to show you cash-flow numbers I’ve never shown anyone before,” he said back then, in familiar spin mode–but he folded the pages to obscure the final column. And while he insisted he was worth between $4 billion and $5 billion, FORBES obtained records that Trump had submitted to a governmental body, professing that as of May 1989 his net assets were only $1.5 billion–one-third of what he had told us and even a bit less than the number FORBES, which strives for conservative estimates, had arrived at the previous year.
The fibbing was more brazen when they delved into specifics. In 1988 Trump sent FORBES a document listing his personal residences–including Mar-a-Lago, his Palm Beach mansion–with a total net value of $50 million. At the same time sworn statements placed their total asset value at $30 million, along with a debt load of $40 million–a net liability. Trump also said he owned $159 million in stock and bonds, all unencumbered. But documents filed with the SEC showed that he borrowed big-time to buy the stock, which subsequently dipped.
Trump did not like this challenge to his reputation. He published an essay for the Los Angeles Times syndicate: “Forbes Carried Out Personal Vendetta in Print.” He argued that the “willfully wrong” piece was driven by the desire to sell magazines and damage his reputation. He told ABC’s Sam Donaldson that “Forbes has been after me for years, consistently after me.”
The Full Article (September 29, 2015)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)