Presidential Disclaimer
I never really knew Donald John Trump. I don’t know who that is. I mean, sure, he’s President of the United States and all that, but it’s not like he and I were ever friends. He has his people and I have my people. It’s not like I can tell you what he eats for breakfast. I can’t. Tell you. I have always kept any contact one step or two steps removed. At best. I try to avoid getting sucked into his social circle, you know? Not my kind of folks, a little too aggressive, a little too whiny, aggrieved and egocentric. Unpleasant, if you will.
“Little Donnie” I call him. That’s what I call him, “Little Donnie.” It’s kind of a pet name for someone who on many occasions seems to exhibit childlike behavior. There’s a certain amount of affection in the name, I suppose, but also aggravation. He disappoints me with his temper tantrums, his sulks, his bullying behavior and his boorish rule-breaking. Emotionally, he’s a bull in a china shop. At the end of his presidency, we find a playpen full of broken pottery.
He showed great promise when he was younger, but at the end of the day, he’s a disappointment. What did they say about Nixon? He was brilliant at turning victory into defeat. Little Donnie shows some of that tendency. He gets so wrapped up in the drama of the moment, he takes his eyes off the ball. He spends a lot of time hacking away in the sand traps of life. Also, he exhibits very unethical attitudes.
Like most people, I have made it a point in my life to steer well clear of indictable offenses. Life is too short and who wants to spend time in prison? Although the coronavirus has put most of us in self-imposed house arrest, I grant you. Not fun. Legal jeopardy, however, positively looms over DJ Trump like a sooty cloud of acid rain. I mean, there’s a dude with a snout like a pig who is involved in some very shady, controversial behavior. In other words, AVOID.
Remember the upstart who used to act out in the classroom in third grade? That’s Donnie. A drama queen, the more outrageous his behavior, the more his supporters love him. Reality TV writ large, there’s a lot of emotion on everyone’s sleeve. His is a pressure cooker world and El Trumpo keeps turning up the heat.
As you know, I have my contacts in the government. Washington is such a chatty town, you can hardly avoid meeting people, but unlike the demonstrators, I don’t spend a lot of time in Lafayette Square or crowding the White House fence. I don’t have time for that and I certainly don’t want to have my picture taken. Half of what I do is based on discretion. Why flush that down the toilet for a few minutes of gratuitous anger over Little Donnie’s latest shenanigans? If I’m going to be angry over the president or his administration, I do it at home. I don’t even give out information over the phone, so the last thing I am going to do is get in an argument in public. You end up like that high school kid who got ambushed by a native American, a self-described activist with bad teeth, banging on a drum. The kid wasn’t even doing anything, just hanging out with his high school class, and he got videoed, photographed and hung out to dry on social media. Don’t put yourself in situations that can generate bad karma.
I am active on Twitter, but I do it on my terms. Considering the volume of bile the president belches on Twitter, I am often inclined to become a follower of @realDonaldTrump. To get the full firehose effect of raw sewage, straight from the source. But once you join that world, I discovered, your Twitter feed gets bombarded by opinionated nutjobs with plenty of axes to grind. Who needs that? Ann Coulter and I share an adversarial Twitterverse, but Kellyanne Conway and Kayleigh McEnany are not individuals with whom I desire interaction, thank you very much!
It’s a funny business, having retired from the military and finding myself living a shadow existence. This is not where I would have put myself if queried even ten years ago. Mainly, my daily effort goes into taking care of my elderly mom. It’s the least a dutiful son can do. Flacking for a Swedish rap band, writing and all my other creative endeavors are the little pleasures that keep me from going totally bonkers. Sure, I daydream of a position in the Biden White House, but it’s not like I am lifting the phone or posting my résumé. We’ll have to see how the next few years play out. I figure that if Sebastian Gorka could get a job in the White House, anybody can.
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