Where else has “The Power Broker” been hiding?

As New York politicos grapple with lackluster audio and Zoom backgrounds, many have come to use a strategically placed copy of Robert Caro’s “The Power Broker” as a reliable way to signal their clout and credibility. Some, like NY1’s Errol Louis, readily admitted the placement was intentional, while others claim that, oh, it’s been on that bookshelf as long as they can remember. Is it possible the legendary Robert Moses biography has been hiding elsewhere, unnoticed in plain sight?

You didn’t expect America’s first president to go into battle without his handy-dandy, mist-soaked copy of “The Power Broker.” The surprise attack on the British was devastating, but so was Washington’s intimate knowledge of “how political power truly works.”

It’s obvious upon reexamination that both figures in this painting have read “The Power Broker.” Unfortunately, they also probably intend to use its 1,200+ as kindling. Knowledge of the inner workings of New York City politics isn’t as relevant to a rural lifestyle during the Great Depression as heating that farmhouse in the background.

Few people know that this painting isn’t actually about lonely diners in the wee hours of the morning – it’s a depiction of a book club that started discussing “The Power Broker” when the sun was still up, and to this day they’re still not finished.

For some people, “The Power Broker” is the pièce de résistance of their carefully curated bookshelf. For others, it’s a convenient doorstop, or in this case, a footstool. To each whistler’s mother her own.

Despite taking great offense that Robert Caro chose to profile Lyndon B. Johnson next, this New York governor-turned president understands clout, and wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to sneak “The Power Broker” into a portrait. We’d have to imagine that his Zoom backgrounds would also involve a lot of taxidermy.