Thursday, September 3, 2020
Trump in Latrobe! Aunt Milley goes nuts!
This is one of those days I’m regretful I vowed to always let readers know where I stand on the issues. Or in my case where I slouch, lean or nap.
Well, President Trump is coming to Latrobe to speak tonight and I’m wishing I didn’t feel compelled to opine. Nothing good can come from it — and in the case of me opining and Trump speaking that’s a two-fer.
The notion will anger my Trump-despising friends. They think I’m too soft on him and should feel an obligation to bash Trump and all his voting enablers, both native and Russian.
And — there — mild jabs like that will infuriate my Trump-loving friends, many of whom are surprisingly thin-skinned when it comes to defending someone whose skin is so abundant Hannibal Lechter would describe him as “roomy.”
Really, if I thought I could change even one mind, I’d do it. It would be a monumental accomplishment.
I’d start by rescuing Aunt Millie (not her real name). We’ll get back to her.
But, as I’ve said many times, it’s impossible to change the minds of the mindless — and I include myself in the description.
My mind is made-up. So is yours, I’m sure. We’ve reached a point in America where the only time a mind changes is when it undergoes ballistic intervention. And the lethal frequency of these atrocities is sadly trending up.
If violence isn’t the answer then how come we’re always asking the question?
And now, again, it’s all about race. The pity is when it comes down to blacks and whites the issues are never black and white.
Many of my neighbors are wondering if he’ll stop at the wildly popular Trump House, not even 1/2 mile from my Tin Lizzy HQ,
He may, but that’s not going to win him any votes. He’s got that crowd locked up — and I mean that metaphorically. It’s the border-crossing children he has locked up.
That’s why I’d advise him to stop for a photo op at the downtown Fred Rogers statue. Here’s a good Fred quote: “The three keys to ultimate success are: Be kind. Be kind. And be kind.”
It’s very uplifting and stands in stark contrast to the most famous Trump quote which involves grabbing women by their genitalia, which I guess could be called up-skirt-lifting.
The Fred park is special. Many people go there for solace, for soul-searching.
It’d be breaking news if Trump found he has one.
Now, that was another cheap shot. Sorry. Just playing to the base.
I wonder if it would change any minds if you could see on video the bronze Fred statue actually begin to scowl at Trump’s approach.
That’s the kind of joke I told over dinner last night as we coincidentally sat down with four-Trump-loving friends.
Surprised? Yes, some of our very best friends are Trump supporters, which I guess is the pandering equivalent to a Trump fan declaring some of their best friends are black (lives matter).
These days, I enjoy the company of most anyone who doesn’t traffic in the crazy conspiracy theories.
Sadly, that means I’m done with Aunt Milley. I don’t know why I’m fictionalizing her into an aunt when she’s a true granny and that’s plenty folksy. She used to dote on our kids, bring them candy and volunteer at the church.
Well, we miss her.
Did I mention poison politics have turned her into a racist bitch?
Her Facebook feed is all Q anon, wacko theories on blood-sipping pedophiles (DYK even Tom Hanks is one of those?) And then there are the ugly racist musings about the Obamas.
It’s no longer enough to merely disagree on policy. You now must ascribe phantasmagorical villainy to your opponent.
We lose so much when we weaponize our passions.
It’s becoming common to speculate whether or not we’re on the brink of a new Civil War.
Fat chance, I say.
In America today, civility was the first casualty.
Welcome to The Incivil War.