When the House Is Burning, Don’t Ask Permission

Now, I’m not saying I’ve ever been in charge of a whole state—or even a neighborhood, come to think of it—but I have been the only one around with a bucket when the barn caught fire. And let me tell you, that’s not the time to argue over who’s got the right to toss water. It’s the time to throw water.

Nevada Attorney General Aaron Ford didn’t get the memo. This week, while Los Angeles was lighting up like Independence Day—but without the fireworks permit—Ford and a bunch of his political pals took a bold stand against helping.

President Trump sent in the National Guard to help calm things down in riot-rattled LA—stores looted, streets on fire, police getting pelted with everything short of the kitchen sink. And while most folks were just grateful someone was finally bringing a little order to the madness, Ford decided to jump into the fray—against the guys trying to stop the chaos.

Now, I’ve watched enough Westerns to know that when the sheriff’s outnumbered and the town’s on fire, you don’t get picky about who rides in with a rifle. But, Ford’s gripe is that the President didn’t ask permission from California’s politicians first.

That’s right—while the city burned, Ford was worried about etiquette. And let’s be clear–this wasn’t some shady power grab.

The Insurrection Act has been in existence since 1807. It gives the President the power to send troops when things go south in a hurry, and if Molotov cocktails and bricks-to-the-face don’t count as serious unrest, I don’t know what does.

But Ford, bless his heart, joined 17 other like-minded attorneys general to declare Trump’s move “unlawful, unconstitutional, and undemocratic.” That’s a mouthful for a man who’s been in handcuffs four times before moving to the Silver State.

I imagine Aaron sitting there at his desk, sipping on something expensive, drafting that statement like he’s Thomas Jefferson, while real people were sweeping broken glass out of their storefronts. It’s easy to uphold ideals when you’re nowhere near the mayhem.

It’s not the first time Ford’s put politics over public safety. Back in 2020, when the country was lighting up from sea to shining sea, he stayed quieter than a cowboy in church. Then, when folks asked questions about election integrity—legitimate questions, mind you—he rolled his eyes like a teenager told to take out the trash.

To be fair–some folks say letting the feds step in without state say-so is a dangerous precedent. But if your roof’s caving in and the neighbor shows up with a ladder, do you stop to check his credentials?

No—you hold the ladder’s base and pray he doesn’t fall off it.

It shouldn’t be about party lines or press releases. It should be about doing what’s right when it counts.

You don’t throw a hissy fit because someone helped without asking first. You say thank you, maybe buy ’em a cup of coffee, and sort out the paperwork later.

But Ford? He’s too busy playing politics with people’s safety. And that, my friends, is how you end up with burned-out buildings and broken trust.

Me? I’ll take the guy with the bucket and ladder—every time.