Keep Calm and Cry Softly

Just as soon as I began to give Trump some credit for his drive and power (check my last post), more unfolding details about the firing of FBI Director James Comey rear their ugly head. 

I haven’t been this scared since “The Day After” came out it in grade school. And I know shit has officially hit the fan because even FoxNews anchors are expressing concern (check out Chris Wallace on Shephard Smith from today’s show if/when it posts). 

I’d like to say with a bubbly English accent: ‘Keep Calm: Trump is just a nincompoop.’ But I don’t believe that. 

It feels like some of my deepest fears about Trump – he only cares about power; he’s deeply corrupt – might be true. I lean left, and I don’t want to believe it. 

What we know: Trump says now it was his decision to fire Comey; Comey led the department investigating Trump associates for their ties to Russia; Trump officials originally said recommendations from U.S. Attorney General Jeff Sessions and Deputy Attorney General Rod Rosenstein provided the impetus for termination. 

This is enough to be troubling to any thoughtful American. There’s more, of course. It has been reported Trump had asked the FBI director for his loyalty before the pink slip; Trump has implied a private conversation with Comey may have been taped; and he threatened to release dirt on Joe Scarborough and other perceived threats. 

It’s all unnerving. And so unnecessary. Trump has all the power Obama had in 2008 with congress on his side. Why is this his focus? 

When you watch FoxNews tonight – and many of you will – do me a favor: replace the name Trump with Clinton. Would you be freaked out if Hillary had just fired the director investigating her ties to Russia?

But I don’t want to add to the fear. I’m sure this Wonka boat will land at the testing lab soon. 

‘Keep calm and cry softly.’ It’s not great, but who wants the current state of things to carry on? 

Ratings Bold: An Unfortunate Truth

Dear Resist Movement and all Americans and others rightfully concerned about our President, 

Can we have a moment? 

I want to apologize formally. You’re great people — better than me, in fact. You see, I think I like Trump. 

Yes, I know that’s terrible. No, he shouldn’t grab pussies. Yes, he’s an unashamed greedy egomaniac. He might be racist, too, which upsets me. He’s almost the Anti-Obama, and more than once I’ve been overcome by the same pangs of fear you feel … like the world is going to end, ransaked by Deatheaters.  It’s a shame. 

Also, it’s worth noting, I didn’t vote for him; his conflicts of interest are a far bigger concern to me than Hillary’s emails; his critics are right most of the time; and he probably shouldn’t be running the country.

On the last point, veteran conservative columnist George Will nails the reasons why. I can’t argue. 

But please hear me Democrats (left-leaning independent here) and other fine people: Donald Trump is to His supporters what Bill Clinton is to liberals. He’s what Kanye West is to music (Love you, Kanye!) He is, in a word, untouchable. He can say and do anything and the people who love him still will. 

And this, I admit shamefully, is part of the appeal. Maybe all of it. But if we are ever going to win power back for the good guys, I think we need to be bold ourselves and admit he’s not the boogeyman. 

When I was younger and dumber, I once wrote a blog featuring a picture of brass balls. I’d declared myself the best reporter in Springfield (Mo.) as I was exiting my first job in journalism and ready, with gusto, to take on my second. It’d be another six months before I was hired to write. 

Here’s the thing: I believed it was true. Looking back objectively, I can think of five reporters in the area who were better than me and there may have been more. But at the time, I had blinders on. That self-confidence, that belief in myself, eventually helped me secure a position with a better well-respected publication.  

While I am embarrassed now by my early swagger, my boldness furthered my resolve to be great, which helped me secure a larger platform from which to operate. “Fortune favors the bold,” said Virgil. “Freedom lies in being bold,” said Robert Frost.

Back to Trump: this guy is nothing but brass balls. For those not paying attention, here are a few (too many regrettable) examples:

1. He ran for president with no government experience.

2. He’s been involved in six business bankruptcies and ran based on his business acumen.

3. He called Sen. John McCain, a former Republican presidential nominee and war hero, “a loser” while running for the nation’s highest office. 

4. While launching his campaign, he insulted Mexicans and alienated a key voting block – Hispanics – just four years after their strong support for Obama gave him a narrow victory (no political expert I know of thought this was a good idea). 

5. He has reorganized his debts in the past based on the power of his name. 

6. He ran for president without releasing his taxes. 

7. He has bombed Syria, thumbed his nose at Kim Jong Un, and hosted several successful seasons of “Celebrity Apprentice” (a TV show premise that should have never reached the air). 

And on and on it goes. I’m not saying this is a great man. But I get it. I get why people like him. 
Oh, btw, he seems to have fulfilled every dream he could have had for himself. I can’t say that. Think about it: he sits in the most powerful office in the world; he’s married to a model; he’s filthy rich; and he’s so bombastic and charismatic that historians will be saying his name for centuries.
This week, Trump fired FBI Director James Comey, who was investigating Trump appointees and their ties to Russia. Already, calls for impeachment and comparisons to Richard Nixon are getting attention online. But be careful Dems: the last time Congress moved to impeach a sitting president, that president finished his second term with a 65 percent approval rating. 
Clinton’s lowest rating, in case you’re wondering, was 37 percent. It came about four months after he took office. Trump has been as low as 35 percent, according to Gallup, but he currently sits at 40 percent.   
Regarding “The Apprentice,” I wasn’t a huge fan, but I watched a few seasons like anyone else. And, yes, I mostly agreed with his takes. Here’s the problem: I can see 1,000 stories about how Trump is a nightmare, but there will still be a part of me that says to myself, ‘you know, Joan Rivers did deserve to win Season 9.’   

#justsayin 

Bold prediction: Amid WWIII, which Trump will help bring to fruition, The Donald will be viewed like Gen. Patton and leave a second term with a 67 percent approval rating. (Sorry, Dems. I need a shower.)

Death to Dinosaurs 

This poem was the inspiration for the Death2Dinosaurs blog. After months of neglect — I took a job as an adviser with three local cemeteries and thought the name seemed disrespectful — I’m jumping back into blog action. Enjoy! 

———-  ———  ———  ———  ———-  ———- 

Death to dinosaurs is what I see

in my dreams, and it seems 

fair to care why they die.

Large and leathery, wheezing,

stumbling, falling, and then

melting away. Vanishing.

They chased me, and I hid one of

the dogs they wanted to eat.

It felt like the right thing to do.
I don’t know how to make sense

of these places, these dinosaur

faces, fading away over 

entertainment centers. 

They’re random, they say. 

They’re the future, they say.

It’s gray to me, and still it seems

to be something I somehow knew. 

A place no less real than you.
In a land where dinosaurs die, or 

tornadoes fly, or a land where

I’m still in school, how do I know

where my home is? What a home is? 

What is true?

And if that passes as a home there, then

how do I remember to care?

 In those places, with those faces. 

Fading. Dying now.