Robert S. Mueller III is definitely the hottest name in D.C. Maybe the entire country. Maybe, for a while, the world.

He’s the former FBI director (under Presidents  George W. Bush and Barack Obama). He’s said to be very smart, very tough, fair, apolitical and dedicated to his job, which, as of Wednesday, is special counsel at the Justice Department. He will investigate what is being called “possible coordination” between associates of President Donald Trump and Russian officials.

Many people — Republicans and Democrats — are thrilled that Mueller got the tough job. They believe that if anybody can be fair, and get to the bottom of whatever it is, he’s the guy.

Some people are quietly or obviously scared shirtless either because they fear what he may find, or that the investigation will turn out to be a witch hunt.

Talking heads are going nuts commenting on the events and Mueller himself. And I would like, and feel I deserve, a piece of the action.

Whatever link they have with RSM lll, either from law school, the Marine Corps, as workmates or colleagues, or as a subject they covered, they are quick and happy to tell one and all.

My association is in some ways the ultimate male bonding. A shared experience:

For several years, the then FBI director and I used to get haircuts together. Not exactly together, since it was a one-chair barber shop on Newark Street, in D.C.’s Cleveland Park neighborhood. Mueller lived nearby and would pop in from time to time for a quick trim. Believe it or not, our barber, a wonderful guy, was named Luigi. And he kept an old bicycle in the shop which he rode around the block when business was slack. It was easy to tell when Mueller was in the chair. His security was outside and easy-to-spot if you know D.C. and its ways.

Several times I got in the chair right after RSM lll had just left. The seat was still warm sometimes.

Luigi liked the director. He said he was as much a regular guy as possible. And that on several occasions he would show up and somebody was in the chair. Mueller never pulled rank, he said, the way many Washington-trained VIPs do. They hover until taken care of. Or send an aide ahead to clear the path. Maybe, when flying, to get a “surprise” upgrade to first-class.

Not Mueller. If there were other customers he would wait, Luigi said, if he could. Or come back when things had quieted down.

I don’t know how he will do as special counsel.

But we sure had some great haircut time, from time to time.

Nearly Useless Factoid

By Michael O’Connell

Arthur Miller’s play “The Crucible” was first performed Jan. 22, 1953, at the Martin Beck Theatre on Broadway.

Source: Wikipedia

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