The soul-buying kiosk outside 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. shut down last week. “We’re full up,” said the red-headed proprietor. Disappointed sellers turned away, hearts and minds still in hand. But not Secretary of State Marco Rubio.
The man President Trump once dubbed Little Marco had already secured his day under the newly seized South American sun. That, plus some Sunday morning news interviews and a shot at conquering Cuba, and all for the bargain basement price of one soul. The smokin’ deal came with just one bedeviling footnote: Shrinkage.
He’s been getting smaller ever since.
It wasn’t shame pushing Rubio deep into Oval Office couch cushions last year as fellow kiosk patrons lectured Ukrainian hero Volodymyr Zelenskyy on how to preen for them. Nor was the couch growing up around his ears. He was just downsizing.
Pre-kiosk Rubio said “Donald Trump is a world class con artist” and “We are led today by a president that has decided to pit Americans against each other” and “We cannot allow a con artist to get access to the nuclear codes” and “If Trump hadn’t inherited $200 million, he’d be selling watches in Manhattan.” Now Trump is selling watches from the Oval Office and post-kiosk Rubio is polishing the nuclear football on demand.
Rubio also threw this one out: “Even today with the problems that we face, which country would you trade places with?” Trick question! It’s the country I lived in before he became Secretary of State, the one he apparently didn’t care so much about after all, so happy is he to kick this city on the hill to the curb in his zeal to knock over Venezuela on his way to knocking over Cuba.
Rubio’s job is to help America and Americans, not curry favor with his base in Miami-Dade County. But Marco is convinced he knows best. Not the people of America, who may have wanted Nicolás Maduro arrested but overwhelmingly do not want the U.S. to stay in Venezuela. Not American congressional representatives that Rubio kept in the dark, much like Fidel used to toy with his play-pretend Communist Party Congress.
Pat Beall is an editorial writer and columnist for the Sun Sentinel, focusing mainly on Palm Beach County issues.
Does Rubio care how many soldiers and civilians will fall on these violent stepping stones to stature? Hard to know: On those Sunday morning news interviews, his words are so insignificant that they are in danger of disappearing entirely. He was repeatedly asked for a legal justification explaining how we got from shining city on a hill to running Venezuela like a mob boss runs a protection racket. Each time, he responded with a lengthy pause followed by a lengthier description of how nice we are going to be to Venezuelans.
The words shrink when the man does, too.
Soon, he will be little more than a pocket Marco, small enough to be carried around in a lady’s purse or gentleman’s wallet, not that either will be sneaking into this White House anytime soon. And soon after, he might fit comfortably into the curled lip of Stephen Miller’s perma-sneer.
And while adventurism against Latin American commies is Rubio’s brand, it’s Miller the White House is leaning on now with talk of giving him a “more elevated” role in overseeing the country. Of course. The man determined to make America safe for white people, calling the shots in a nation of brown people. What could possibly go wrong? When it came time to pick who would oversee our new Venezuelan colonies, Rubio had apparently shrunk too small to notice.
At least Increasingly Little Marco will always have South Florida. “You can say Marco Rubio down here and everybody just applauds!” said Florida Sen. Ashley Moody.
Me, too! said the kiosk proprietor. Then he combed his red hair, picked his sharp teeth and rehung the open sign. Because business is picking up.
Pat Beall is a Sun Sentinel columnist and editorial writer.
https://www.orlandosentinel.com/2026/01/11/the-incredible-shrinking-secretary-of-state-pat-beall/
