There’s an old yarn about the late, surly Baltimore Orioles manager Earl Weaver. When a pitcher was scuffling, he’d meander out to the mound: “You going to get any better, or is this it?” That’s the existential question facing America today. Is this … it?
Polling indicates majorities of Americans want neither Biden nor Trump to run, while simultaneously indicating that’s precisely who will be atop their respective tickets come Election Day. Absent an implausible course correction, I’d rather visit my proctologist than a polling booth next November.
I’m not a numbers guy. Failed math. But my abacus suggests there are more than 100 million people in America old enough to be president. Yet, somehow, our political pageant is staring down the barrel at two. A routinely indicted septuagenarian. A discernibly declining octogenarian.
I’m focusing on the guy who just achieved a hat trick in the arrest department — and, for good measure, is likely to soon be mug-shotted for a fourth. Lest one worry, he’s OK with that. “It is a great honor, because I am being arrested for you.”
Like Jesus on the cross.
An unfortunate irony in American history is the periodic propensity for bad guys becoming good politicians — not a compliment. Few saw Trump coming. Fewer saw him staying. My friend and former boss was the one interviewing Trump during the 2016 campaign in that ignominious clip where he said John McCain was not a war hero. We watched backstage, aghast. Relieved, really. “Well, the circus was fun while it lasted, but glad it’s leaving town.”
Turns out the carnival barker had a big tent. Still does. Roughly half of Republicans say they wouldn’t vote for him if convicted of a felony. Really? Just half? I bet a higher percentage would be loath to let a convicted felon walk their dog.
It’s no coincidence that national security experts believe one of the biggest threats to America today is domestic extremism. Not foreign terrorists, nuclear bombs, or AI. One group of Americans hurting another group of Americans. Think about that for a minute.
I used to vote Republican, work for Republican politicians, and actually liked politics. Spent a decade living in D.C. But politics today is as putrid as the place it’s most prominently practiced. Facts don’t exist. Principles are malleable to the moment. Many watch the news for affirmation, not information, tuning their ear to whomever can preach pitch-perfect to their choir. I can’t stomach Fox or MSNBC. Smug. Self-righteous. At times downright delusional.
Guys like Reagan and Tip O’Neill demonstrated that politics can be relatively polite; you can disagree all day but grab a beer together at night. Teetotaling tendencies aside, can you imagine Trump and Biden sidling up together for a few stiff Metamucil’s? Me, neither. My money is on Jerry and Newman.
Ever watch a Trump rally? I don’t see patriotism; I see rage, people that are just plain pissed. MAGA attire is a middle finger to anyone who doesn’t believe the election was rigged.
Many on the right are angry. D.C. is a surreptitious swamp. They feel looked down on, laughed at, and left behind by liberal elites over the years. I get it. But Trump isn’t the solution. We’ve seen behind the orange curtain; we’ve got the sample size and are within the margin of error to declare him dangerous. He doesn’t “love” you. He needs you. Your money, vote, and adulation. And I’ll caveat that by saying Biden is no FDR.
Reminds me of the scene in “The American President.” Just substitute Trump for Rumson.
“We have serious problems to solve, and we need serious people to solve them. And whatever your particular problem is, I promise you, Bob Rumson is not the least bit interested in solving it. He is interested in two things and two things only: making you afraid of it and telling you who’s to blame for it.”
Put the indictments and impeachments aside. Has Trump been targeted? Maybe. Does Hunter Biden belong in jail? Probably. But I’ve met or worked for folks in stratospheres above my tax bracket who’ve known Trump for decades. The quiet consensus: He’s crude, not benevolent with his billions, and does what’s best for Donald. Always.
He mocks those that worship him; wouldn’t let most sniff any of his exclusive clubs. Think he’d hire the “patriot” donning the horned headdress on January 6th as a valet at Mar-a-Lago?
Trump traffics in the language of “winners” and “losers.” Bill Parcells said: “You are what your record says you are.” 2018. 2020. 2022. When do you declare someone who keeps losing … a loser? And how many times are large swaths of Republicans, and his enabling, scared, GOP sycophants in Washington, willing to lose before realizing they need a new coach?
Trump lost in 2020. Fact. Indisputable. And he’s the worst kind of loser, a sore loser. The one who storms off the field without shaking hands. Blames his teammates. Says it’s all the ref’s fault. You know, the one you don’t want your kid to act or grow up to be like.
A news executive recently put it thusly: “Some people like rain. Some people don’t like rain. We should give space to that. But we will not have someone who comes on [air] and says it’s not raining.” Go figure, he was jettisoned.
A close British friend and former colleague, having worked in politics from Africa to America and now residing in Australia, emailed a while back: “What the hell is going on over there?” Good question.
We’re better than this.
Ben Clarke is a communications consultant. He has written and worked for political leaders across the globe and advised numerous Fortune 100 CEOs. He resides in Greenfield.