I’m departing from my usual disjointed ramblings this week to focus on something that’s been on my mind, as opposed to things that have never crossed it. Because of what I’ve written here in the past, it may appear to you readers that I have a very low opinion of the guy that’s haunting the halls of the White House these days. That’s only because I do. It wasn’t always this way.
At one time I was an ardent admirer of Mr. Donald Trump. I even wrote a letter to him on real paper back in ancient times, around 1990, long before anyone knew what E-mail was. This was during one of his bankruptcies and journalists for financial publications were taking glee in bashing him. Yes, I used to read those magazines and newspapers for financial advice when I was on the road to becoming the wealthy and highly successful writer I am today. My letter to him offered encouragement. “Don’t let the bums get you down,” I wrote. “You’ll be back on top soon.” I never got a response, but I didn’t really expect one. I followed his business exploits over the years and was excited the first time he announced he was considering running for president. The approval rating of our do-nothing congress was at its all-time low and I figured America could use a guy such as Trump, someone with good business acumen, to straighten things out.
My illusions of the grandiosity of the Trumpster were blow into puffs of smoke, just like my illusions of the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus, while watching David Letterman’s show one night. I don’t mean Letterman did that to the Tooth Fairy and Santa. Reality did. Trump was a guest and was there initially to promote his new clothing line, then just appearing on the shelves at Macy’s. David had something in else mind though, and was setting Donald up. He allowed The Donald to run on for a while about the greatest men’s wear line to ever grace the shelves of any store. Letterman turned to the subject of his potential presidential bid, Donald’s, not David’s. Trump took the bait and began spewing his thoughts on what was wrong with the country and the government. This prompted spontaneous applause from the audience and me at home (I usually only do that when Mr. Noodle shows up on Elmo’s World). He continued on about how America had sold out domestic manufacturing and all associated jobs to Mexico, China, Mulvania, the planet Mongo. More audience applause. That’s when Dave struck. He reached behind his chair and pulled up articles from Trump’s new clothing line. David read the labels on each piece. Lo and behold, every one was manufactured in a different foreign country. Groans and mild boos came from the audience. Donald sat there, slumped forward slightly, elbows on is knees. Dave finished and stared at him. Trump, with a sheepish half grin, shrugged his shoulders. He had nothing to say immediately. After a couple of seconds he said something like, “Well, other countries gotta live too.”
This was my turning point. The wind was out of my sail; my DonDon cookie had crumbled right there in front of my TV screen. This guy is full of meadow muffins, I thought. How much of my life did I waste watching every show in every season of The Apprentice, from the very first one? Those meadow muffins are now so prolific they’re coming out Trump’s ears and filling up the White House. Penn Jillette, of Penn & Teller fame, had been a contestant on The Apprentice and said, “No matter how bad you think Trump is, he’s worse.” I’d been duped (see also the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus above). But I wasn’t the only one.
Not long ago, Stephen Colbert was interviewing John Bolton when Bolton’s book was released. Stephen asked John, who was supposed to be an expert on dictators, anarchists, and other nasty leader-types and could see through their rhetoric to what real motives were underlying their words, how could he not see what Trump was really like? Even he, Stephen Colbert, could see it right from the beginning. The anger rose in Bolton as he controlled himself and stated that the question was insulting, and then went about trying to explain his actions, or non-actions.
I recently received an E-mail asking for my opinion on Trump’s likeness being added to Mt. Rushmore. I responded I’d be in favor if he was carved with road apples and donkey doughballs spilling from his mouth, and citizens were allowed to deface his giant granite head without any repercussions.
I’d do it even with repercussions. If Walmart was having a sale on spray paint, that is.