New Year's Day with Mike Johnson

The invitation to a private meeting at the Palm Beach airport on New Year’s Day came to me last minute, upending my plans to tour the Versace mansion (once the site of Gianni Versace’s infamous murder, now a luxury hotel in Miami), recover from a few too many Spanish margaritas at Peter Thiel’s party the night before, and grab a late lunch with Arynne Wexler.

But in Florida, spontaneity is rewarded — especially as it has become the political epicenter of the world. Stepping foot in Palm Beach today is like entering a living novel filled with competitive characters and high-stakes subplots tied to Trump’s flashy orbit. All of his people are scrambling for their place in his administration. For a writer, being here for any reason is justified.

This is how I ended up sitting in a nondescript conference room with vanilla-tinged sunlight spilling through the blinds on New Year’s Day. Around me, 7 or 8 eager, younger (less hungover) influencers all waiting for Speaker of the House Mike Johnson to arrive. Below us, bomb-sniffing dogs and officers in protective gear patrolled the lobby. The conference room was a quick stop for Johnson before heading to Mar-a-Lago to discuss a reconciliation package with Trump.

Since I hadn’t planned on this meeting, I showed up unprepared — no questions, no notes — and had to talk myself out of wearing sunglasses to shield my migraine. (It’s rude; I realize that. But I still resent society’s collective decision on it.)

My outfit — a boxy plaid pantsuit — was picked based on a friend’s advice: “Dress conservatively because, well, Mike Johnson is conservative.”

When Johnson finally walked in, he settled into the empty seat beside me. My first impression was that he matched his on-screen persona perfectly: nice skin, thick hair, and a boyish expression seemingly untouched by the stresses of his role. He looks young and old at the same time.

A more politically savvy friend later briefed me on the enormity of his position: “The Speaker is second in line for the presidency. If Trump and JD can’t serve, the Speaker steps in. It’s a massive job. He manages the House, which is bigger and more chaotic than the Senate, and he’s tasked with wrangling an unruly caucus to pass legislation. Think of him as a teacher managing a rowdy class — but the entire country’s governance depends on it.”

I asked what the pay was. “No idea,” she said. Google confirmed: $223,500 annually. “Not worth it.”

In person, Johnson is every bit the man you see in viral clips. He’s, dare I say, cute — and certainly a compelling figure in this circus. His eye rolls and smug smirk when Biden says something ridiculous are part of his charm. It’s what won me over; I admire people who wear their opinions on their faces, and Johnson does so effortlessly.

The New Year meeting was off-the-record, so I didn’t have to worry about taking notes, though I kind of wish I had. It was framed as a casual “conversation,” meant to familiarize Johnson with digital influencers — who are increasingly shaping public opinion on politics and policy.

For those unfamiliar with Mike Johnson’s background, his journey to Speaker is worth the footnotes. Before entering politics, Johnson was a constitutional law attorney with the Alliance Defending Freedom (ADF), a leading conservative Christian legal organization. His work advocating for religious freedom laid the foundation for his later political career, where his legal expertise has been invaluable.

At his core, Johnson is deeply rooted in family and faith. A father of four, he often speaks about how these values shape his leadership as a grounding force in the often turbulent world of politics.

A Louisiana native, Johnson’s rise to Speaker was both swift and somewhat unexpected. At 51, he became one of the youngest individuals to assume the role in over 140 years in 2023. His election was viewed as a unifying moment for the Republican Party, bridging different factions and offering a fresh perspective to the Speaker’s office.

Known for his advocacy of religious freedom, Johnson has been a vocal critic of what he perceives as the erosion of Christian values in America’s public life. His faith isn’t just personal; it’s central to his leadership and political decisions.

His deeply held conservative values — particularly on issues like LGBTQ+ rights and abortion — have raised eyebrows, with some wondering whether his stance on these topics could limit progress for marginalized communities. Though he presents himself as a unifying force within the GOP, his close ties to Trump and support for challenging the 2020 election have left some questioning whether he can truly bridge the divides within his party. Johnson’s fiscal policies, often championing budget cuts and tax reductions, have raised concerns about the impact on lower-income Americans and vital government programs. His handling of the Ukraine situation has also stirred mixed feelings, with a number of Republicans outraged over the ongoing support for U.S. aid. And while he’s proven himself a quick study in the Speaker’s chair, some wonder if his relatively short time in high-stakes political leadership might hinder his ability to push through significant legislation.

At the end of the day, Johnson’s steadfast loyalty to Trump comes with speculation about whether it could limit his capacity for impartial leadership — some wondering if his deep political alliances may cloud his judgment when it matters most.

What I can offer is that over the course of an hour, he proved himself to be down-to-earth, funny, and sharp-witted. He has a wry sense of humor, does an uncanny Trump impersonation, and easily breaks down complex topics — like the national budget, when pressed. He even veered off course to gossip and share anecdotes, including one concerning a midnight New Year’s FaceTime call from a certain congresswoman trying to score extra inauguration tickets (apparently, they’re only allotted two). He recounted the McDonald’s hazing with RFK and what it’s like watching Elon Musk in meetings with dignitaries, holding court while his young protégé, X, sits perched on his lap. The scene, absurd yet adorable, is so emblematic of our times — Musk navigating high-stakes situations while simultaneously managing his hyperactive toddler on his knee. Johnson sees the humor in it and seemed to relish it.

Before we concluded, he expanded on his mission that day — the reconciliation package under debate: Trump prefers “one big, beautiful bill,” while others favor splitting it into two. He explained the strategic differences between the two approaches, offering insight into Trump’s business-minded but sometimes impractical demands. Johnson’s Trump impersonation — complete with exaggerated voice and hand gestures — was hilarious and oddly endearing.

One topic raised that stood out to me was the need for “smart messaging” moving forward for the Republican Party. I see major fault here. Democrats have mastered streamlined communication; the right still lags behind. The good news? Someone will soon be appointed to oversee communication with influencers like us — a sign that the party recognizes the shifting media landscape, and that we’ll hold the same value as legacy outlets and mainstream sharks.

As the meeting wrapped up, Johnson lingered, joking, gossiping, and obliging selfie requests. With the sweep of his hand he fixed his hair before Arryn snapped a photo with him. When I asked him to pause for a portrait beneath four global clocks, all showing the wrong time, he was quick to indulge me, too. (Of course, the clocks sparked conspiracy theories in my Instagram comments, though the real explanation — neglectful staff — was disappointingly mundane.)

The portrait posted later that day ignited a lively discussion in my comments, reflecting the range of emotions Republicans feel about today’s political leaders. MAGA, as a whole, can be hard to please. Some followers praised his character and relatability, calling him “a good man,” “generous,” and “giving nice Dad vibes.” Others expressed skepticism, questioning his stance on issues like aid to Ukraine.

Personal connections surfaced too: Several shared ties to his hometown or stories of meeting him, with one follower noting they were “pleasantly surprised by the interaction.” Many appreciated the humanizing angle of my post, noting, “We can agree to disagree with their policies and still think they’re funny and likable.” Others were simply intrigued, asking about his sense of humor, his faith, and the pressure of his role, with one remarking, “He’s got the weight on his shoulders like no other.”

“Oh Jessica, please don’t make me like this guy!” one woman begged.

Ultimately, the day’s meet and greet wasn’t just about the details discussed or the quotes overheard — it was about what this next chapter represents for the movement. Johnson and his team understand a changing media landscape and that online creators are now driving the narratives that inform and educate the public. Connecting with influencers isn’t optional anymore; it’s essential.

As Elon Musk likes to remind us, “We are the media now.” Johnson’s effort proves this point: The people at the top know that engaging with those shaping conversations online isn’t just smart — it’s necessary. Done right, it can have lasting impact on their mission.