When it comes to commanders in chief, none has commanded the public’s attention like Donald Trump.

He has been the lead story for 12 solid months. Whether you’re in a church or a bar, the conversation inevitably turns to Trump and his latest “can you believe it?” statement.

He’s insulted more people than Don Rickles, switched his positions more times than Stephen Curry and suffered more crashes than Evel Knievel.

As for results, they don’t matter to him. It’s all about the staging.

Through it all, he has remained true to the single principle that has guided his entire life:

He and his ego come first.

Trump may pay the price for his never-ending need for attention in the midterm elections, as his antics and instability are doing the Republicans no favors in their bid to hold the House and Senate.

I doubt, however, that losing either or both houses would bother Trump. He’d just have a fresh set of targets to tweet at.

Remember, to Trump, it’s all about Trump.

Words, not action: Hats off to GOP Sen. Jeff Flake of Arizona for giving a magnificent speech outlining President Trump’s threat to a free press, likening his approach to that of Joseph Stalin. But judging from the lack of reaction, I may have been the only one who paid attention.

Maybe that’s because Flake is a lame duck senator who votes the Trump line even as he denounces him.

Sightings: President Trump’s national security adviser, H.R. McMaster, and his counterparts from South Korea, Japan and China were in San Francisco the other night for a top-secret discussion about North Korea.

And while you’re trying to defuse an international crisis, you might as well enjoy a bit of great dining — which is just what McMaster did, at North Beach Restaurant. I suspect he chose the Stockton Street establishment at the suggestion of former Secretary of State George Shultz, as it has long been a favorite of his.

The press reported the confab as a “secret meeting,” but McMaster and company were in full view of the dining rooms, and Stockton Street was flooded with security.

Earlier in the week, Al Davis’ widow, Carol, celebrated her birthday at the restaurant with a host of friends and former Raiders: John and Virginia Madden, Clem Daniels, Raymond Chester, Jim Plunkett, George Atkinson and Willie Brown — the Hall of Fame defensive back, not yours truly. Though I did join the crowd.

The birthday party was hosted by Carol’s son and Raiders owner Mark Davis, who was dressed in a white linen suit and blue T-shirt.

Madden scolded me, saying he had heard I was introducing myself as the Hall of Famer Raider, No. 24, Willie Brown.

“My misrepresentation of who I am happens less often than your Willie Brown claiming he’s the former mayor,” I said.

Movie time: “The Commuter.” This latest Liam Neeson thriller is a great mix of Alfred Hitchcock-inspired plot twists and knockdown, drag-out action scenes. Neeson plays a former cop turned insurance salesman whose world is crumbling, when on the train ride home from being laid off he is offered $100,000 “to do one little thing.” The one little thing leads to another, and within minutes Neeson is in the fight of his life.

It won’t win any awards, but it’s easily the most entertaining movie for 2018 so far.

Mexican mix: I was invited to dinner at a place called Californios on 22nd Street. I arrived at 7:30 p.m. and didn’t leave until 11.

There were 19 courses, none of them recognizable but all of them great combinations of Mexican-style scallops, lamb or octopus and every kind of vegetable you can think of. They had to explain every dish.

The portions were all bite-size, but not the bill. For five people and wine pairings, the tab came to more than $1,000.

Political prey: The “old pro” on the Board of Supervisors, as he calls himself, Aaron Peskin, is still diving into the bay every morning for a swim around Aquatic Park.

With the sea lions biting swimmers in the bay, I have to wonder why Peskin hasn’t been chomped.

Professional courtesy, I guess.

Want to sound off? Email: wbrown@sfchronicle.com