Thursday, November 5, 2020

My fellow Americans ...

 



(Note: This was written under the presumption of a Biden victory. If the reverse happens, well, never mind)

(781 words)


You know, what kind of gets to me?


It kind of gets to me that calling me an idiot — libtard — over policy disagreements just isn’t mean enough.


No, my earnest belief that the top ome percent should pay their fair share in taxes means I belong to a secret cabal that preys on children by drinking their virgin blood all for the glory of my Satanic masters.


Oh, yeah, me and Tom Hanks.


It’s just utter nonsense.


I mean, it’s been years since I bumped into Hanks at one of the meetings.


It was late last night and Val and I were watching the mind-numbing razor-thin vote counts in rural Georgian counties where neither of us will ever set foot when we both blurted out the same sentiment at the same time.


“Can you imagine how much he’d have won by if he’d have just even once been a decent human being?”


Imagine …


“My fellow Americans — and I mean every one of you, red and blue — I just want to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for some of the tweets, the mockery, the incivility and for all those misguided times I seemed to go all buddy-buddy with the white supremacy boys.


“If you give me another chance, I promise I’ll try harder to be a little less divisive. I’ll try to be everyone’s president. I’ll try to be your president. Pinkie promise!”


He wouldn’t have even had to be sincere. Just say something like that and we now know it wouldn’t have been even close.


Trump would be victorious and would be entitled to honestly brag about receiving the most votes in electoral history. He’d have held onto the Senate and expanded GOP seats in the House.


And, you, you Trump supporter you, how would you feel?


You’d be feeling euphoric. You’d feel like dancing a happy jig. And you’d feel like gloating about how guys like me were morbidly morose over the prospect of four more years.


In short, you’d feel like I feel.


And I’m feelin’ pretty good!


See, I don’t really care about the GOP holding onto the Senate, gaining seats in the House or gubernatorial victories in square states out West where they bury all the toxic waste (although I do admit to feeling a little charge anytime I get to type the word “gubernatorial”).


To me it was all about Trump.


You, too, I suspect.


I hate him, hate him for all the reasons you may revel in him. Hated him ever since he mocked that disabled reporter — of course me being a (somewhat) disabled (somewhat) reporter I’m (somewhat) biased.


But know this, my brothers and sisters, I do not hate you — at least not those among you who do not hate women, browns, blacks, Ls, Bs, Gs, Qs, etcs.


Yes, I’m one of those liberals who only hates people who hate. I call it “The Hatred Paradox.”


But as we’ve careened through this most godawful year, one riven with tumult and you mocking me for wearing even a stylish mask, I’ve tried to slice through the bitter din and understand you.


On this mission I have failed. I cannot understand what makes anyone from the party of my proud father support Trump.


The notion gave rise to the nifty line, “The revulsion true Republicans feel at the idea of supporting a man like Trump must be akin to what dying vegetarians feel when they realize they’re about to turn zombie.”


So four years of Trump have bot been without some silver linings.


I may not understand you, but I truly understand we at some point are going to need to understand one another.


I’m friends with and admirers of too many of you to simple dismiss you as a bunch of kooks and bigots. Take for example this one very bright woman who said while there was much she detested about Trump, she was so ardently pro-life her “Catholic guilt” meant she felt compelled to vote for him.


“Besides,” she said, “I can tell Joe Biden has dementia.”


What makes her such a mental health know-it-all?


She’s my neurologist. 


She’s a brain doctor!


It might sound like crazy talk, but I believe we can somehow reconcile our differences. We must.


Because of just at this moment there are 71.6 million Americans like me who are mostly ecstatic that Trump lost. But there are 68 million Americans who are mostly furious that Biden won.


And we’re stuck ‘cause we’re all in this together.


And I don’t mean that in a rah-rah USA! USA! all-in-this-together way.


I mean it like we’re cellmates.


Cellmates in an insane asylum.



Related …


Trump’ in Latrobe & Aunt Milley goes nuts


The giant Trump who ate Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood


Farewell, Sarah, America’s flirt


Trump’s no jackass; he’s under-qualified


Who can help me quit caring so much?


2 comments:

Melissa Boerio said...

Brilliant. Just when we think you can't get better, you write like this.

Chris Rodell said...

Thank you so much. Compliments like this truly nourish.