Rep. Eric Swalwell has been missing votes in Congress while spending time at a Las Vegas timeshare mogul's $23.4 million Beverly Hills mansion, and social media posts appear to show the California congressman visited the palatial estate on 10 different days since September.
The New York Post reported that on three of those days, Swalwell posted videos of himself at the home of Stephen Cloobeck while missing votes on the House floor, according to congressional records. He missed more votes last year than any active member of Congress.
Let that comparison land: the only member of Congress who missed more votes was the late Rep. Raúl Grijalva of Arizona, who died in March 2025.
Cloobeck's estate is a 9,700-square-foot spread with six bedrooms, seven bathrooms, and two master suites. When asked about Swalwell's frequent appearances at the property, Cloobeck was unbothered.
"That's my backdrop. Mi casa, su casa."
The relationship between Swalwell and Cloobeck goes well beyond casual hospitality. Cloobeck is a max donor to Swalwell's gubernatorial campaign and has given $1 million to a committee supporting his run.
He's using resources from his own short-lived governor campaign last year to help the congressman, and congressional gift reports show Cloobeck spent $31,000 on a trip flying Swalwell to Nice, France.
Cloobeck told Politico his endorsement of Swalwell's gubernatorial bid was a "merger" of campaigns, then walked it back as "tongue in cheek" and "business bravado." He claimed Swalwell "has all my due diligence, all my research, everything," before later clarifying there was "no data dump."
So which is it? A merger or a joke? A full transfer of opposition research or nothing at all? Cloobeck seems to operate in a space where words don't carry fixed meaning, which is a useful trait in timeshare sales but less reassuring in politics.
Swalwell claims to rent a room in a small, 1,350-square-foot, three-bedroom house on a quiet cul-de-sac in Livermore, California, claiming to have lived there since 2017. One neighbor, Gita Prusty, who has lived on the street for five years, offered a succinct rebuttal.
"I've never seen him."
On Friday, a Sacramento judge tentatively struck down a lawsuit challenging Swalwell's California residency claims, with a hearing still expected Monday.
But the legal question of residency and the practical question of where Swalwell actually spends his time are two very different things. You can satisfy a legal standard and still leave voters wondering whose interests you're serving from a Beverly Hills estate you don't own.
The social media trail tells its own story. Swalwell posted videos on Instagram of himself at Cloobeck's home during the government shutdown in October.
More posts surfaced during his campaign rollout in November, another campaign stop in December, and over multiple days in January. Campaign records also show Swalwell has spent thousands of dollars on luxury hotel rooms.
This is a man who represents a Bay Area district while apparently living between a billionaire's Beverly Hills compound and wherever else his ambitions take him.
Elizabeth Ashford, a Democratic political consultant, called the whole arrangement "bad optics." That's the polite version. Her full assessment was considerably sharper:
"It reinforces the narrative that he's skipped votes — a lot of votes — and in the case of 'Where's Waldo,' or 'Where's Swalwell,' he's popping up in other places when he's supposed to be doing his job."
"And that begs an answer."
It does. And Swalwell's campaign hasn't provided one. A spokesperson, Micah Beasley, told Politico only that the campaign is "grateful to have Stephen Cloobeck's support in this race." Gratitude noted. Accountability is still pending.
Cloobeck himself is a character worth examining. He has a reputation for eccentric, if not volatile, behavior.
A scandalous fallout with an OnlyFans ex-girlfriend produced a lawsuit in which she accused him of going on a "psychotic break" fueled by drugs and alcohol, including ketamine, according to a report by the San Francisco Standard.
The lawsuit was later dismissed, and a settlement was reportedly reached. After the story became public, Cloobeck defended himself by making a crude comment about the woman's sexual performance to a Vanity Fair reporter.
His office reportedly features decor depicting a man hoisting a Ku Klux Klan member in a noose. When asked about it, Cloobeck told The Standard simply:
"See why I'm a Democrat?"
This is the man bankrolling Swalwell's bid to govern the most populous state in the country. Swalwell apparently sees no liability here, which tells you everything about his judgment.
Republican gubernatorial candidate Steve Hilton summed up the situation cleanly:
"He obviously has no interest in his current job, because he missed more votes than a member of Congress who died."
"He clearly doesn't have any real interest in California either, because he lives in another state."
The pattern is familiar. A certain species of politician treats elected office not as a responsibility but as a stepping stone.
The current job is just a title to hold while angling for the next one. Constituents become an abstraction. Votes become optional. The real work happens at fundraisers in mansions that cost more than most Americans will earn in a lifetime.
Swalwell wants to govern California. He can't even be bothered to show up for roll call. He campaigns from a mogul's estate, claims a room in a house his neighbors say he never visits, and offers nothing but boilerplate gratitude when asked to explain any of it.
California voters deserve to know: if Swalwell won't do the job he already has, why would anyone trust him with a bigger one?
