Much to my surprise I have, of late, been experiencing unaccustomed mood swings. Sometimes, angry and impatient; melancholic and even despairing at other moments, then reflective, inspired and energized at still others. I don’t believe these mood swings have reached levels requiring medication or, at least I hope not. But they are a drag on me and not what I envisioned as part of day-to-day life in these so-called golden years. Pondering my state, I have wondered whether these moods might well be a natural consequence of aging. Even as I say this, I conjure an image in black and white. It is a white-haired senior seated in a wooden chair in an unlit room. My imagined senior stares forlornly out the window to the street below watching people go about the business being, if not happy, at least productive and social, and purposed. But that’s not it at all.
Like everything else that feels less than quite right, I imagine this moodiness has its roots in the mind-boggling way our personal worlds were shaken by remarkable changes over the past eight or so years. Donald Trump was elected President of the US in 2016 which to most people (including Trump himself) seemed virtually unthinkable. Then we were smitten by a viral plague of Biblical proportions that again, no one outside of a small group of scientists could have imagined. These overlapping events seemed to have knocked the world off its axis and pushed us right to the edge where we remained precariously close for years. Suddenly there were quarantines, masking requirements but no masks, closed restaurants, social distancing and regular news conferences where we were never really sure whether the messaging was medically or politically driven. For Lynda and me a move to St. Louis after she was appointed to a position at Washington University School of Medicine coincided with these events. Within ten days of starting her new job most employees were ordered to work from home. In short order that brief interruption, turned into a year.
Trump, pandemic, new job. Mood swings.
So, you see there was a lot to absorb in a short period of time and adjusting required implementing a whole host of novel strategies to deal with new realities: managing boredom, innovative mask making, going to a restaurants and dining on the patio mid-winter wrapped in blankets, watching lots and lots of uncomfortable and frankly bizarre news, fixing things around the house, happy hour on Wednesdays in the park with neighbors in a wide circle of beach chairs, playing “I can’t believe Trump did (said) ______ (fill in the blank)”. I think perhaps we were all so anxious to move on that we never took the time to seriously consider what we had all been through. The fact that many are now questioning the six-foot rule for social distancing, the value of vaccines, and the re-emergence of Trump and his disciples dressed up as the incarnation of our new savior all suggests to me that we didn’t take enough time to reflect on how utterly insane our world had become. It was a tough time to keep one’s moods on an even keel when so much felt so completely unstable. As we slowly emerged we were battered and ready, I assumed, for stability.
I believed after January 6th and the inauguration of Joe Biden, things would stabilize. But it hasn’t and that shift on the world’s axis maybe wasn’t a hiccup but something much more consequential. Things have changed. I thought many were fascinated by the novelty and showmanship of Trump and this would diminish in favor of the stability that I have always believed most people cherish. But I am coming to believe that I have gotten this all wrong. What people want is the adrenalin surge Trump evokes. Biden doesn’t seem to inspire it with legislative accomplishments. We perhaps want our President to say out loud our darker thoughts. “Punch him in the mouth!” “When you put these guys in your (police) car don’t worry about protecting their head!” “If our allies are behind on their NATO obligations, I’d tell Putin to do whatever the hell he wants to them.” It is inescapable that a large segment of our country has missed that kind of unbridled and reckless talk. But here’s the rub. Most of Trump’s reckless comments amount to a game of chicken where the challenged backs down no doubt because of the position Trump holds and the supposed resources at his disposal to enforce his position. Oddly, Trump doesn’t much like face-to-face conflict it has been said. He doesn’t like to fire people himself. He prefers to give the order for someone else to do it. He fancies himself as a warrior but has never really been one. It was disorienting to listen to descriptions of how he reacted to his experience as a defendant. Young women like Cassady Hutchinson and Hope Hicks who testified about his criminal behavior. He couldn’t even look at them. Middle-aged women like Stormy Daniels and Karen McDougal he denies even knowing- just like a child who swears he didn’t raid the cookie jar even as the crumbs surround his mouth. Maybe all we want is a showman rather than someone really ready to go into battle on our behalf.
It seems we crave the sort of adrenaline rush Trump has learned to evoke by saying aloud what most have been taught is improper, untrue, and wrong. But what a rise Trump gets when he shouts “Bullshit!” from his podium. Presidents shouldn’t do that! But this is precisely why he does. Break the stuffy rules imposed by the elites. Tear down the conventions that have limited opportunities for those never admitted to the inner circles of power. The President shouts “Bullshit” and, honestly, it’s a kick! His disciples shout “bullshit” back and then begins the raucous chant- “bullshit, bullshit, bullshit…” It’s empowering to say bullshit you know, when you’re angry. C’mon, try it. Say, “Oh Darn!” Now say, “Bullshit!” See what I’m saying? Trump gives us permission. Even on TV you can say it. If it’s bleeped out, even better. You can see from the gleam in his admirer’s eyes they think he is the real item. A man of the people who knows how to call bullshit, bullshit!
Now Trump makes an outlandish statement…no, not outlandish, but a bold-faced lie. The thing is, he says it as if it were an empirically proven fact. He’s learned how to do that. He’s learned how to obliterate the natural tension a healthy human being feels when they promote a lie as absolutely true. This may be one of the few unique skills he actually possesses. It’s technique, NOT belief. The self-proclaimed defenders of democracy can’t believe what they’re hearing, and their heads begin to spin. And this sets Trump’s disciples on fire! They love watching the elites come unglued. As the lies flood the internet, the democracy defenders are apoplectic and squirting blood from their eyes, crying, “He’s a liar! It’s not true, not true!” But Trump’s disciples know it doesn’t matter because their savior’s purpose is to drive the self-important democracy defenders mad and you know what? They love it.
I can’t help but wonder what world I have stumbled into. What rabbit hole have I fallen in? When did the wheels drop off? I watched the events of January 6th unfold on television. It felt as if I were watching some dystopian Science Fiction thriller on Netflix.
Listen. Can you hear the voices…lots of them?
“Hey! I got an idea. Let’s hang Mike Pence!” A cheer from the crowd signals their approval. And what do you know- a gallows appears as if from thin air. “Now watch what this does to the ELITES!”
The crowd begins to chant, ‘Hang Mike Pence! Hang Mike Pence!’” I can’t believe what I’m witnessing. Hang Mike Pence? “What the hell are you doing?” I shout.
“Gonna hang the Vice President man!”
“But why?”
“Because he betrayed the Boss. Then, we’re goin’ after Pelosi!” Another cheer from the crowd.
Incredulous, my jaw drops and I’m at a loss for words until I’m jabbed in the ribs by some guy with a painted face carrying a flagpole. “OWWW! Stop!” He growls at me now on the concrete looking up at a carnival of surreal hideous faces.
Then, silence as if I have awakened from a nightmare. A nightmare, that’s it. It’s my phone I hear that must have awakened me. “Hello?”
“We’re gonna kill you and your family.” The voice threatens.
Whoa! Hello, Police? I just received a call threatening to kill me and my family! No response.
And now I am viewing a collection of Congressional leaders in the courtroom where Trump has been on trial. They are all dressed in blue suits and red ties. Why am I looking at this? What in the world is happening, I wonder.
“Why are they all dressed the same?”
“You know.” Someone answers me.
“Who are you and where did you come from?”
“You can call me Virgil.” He smiles. “Just been showing you around a bit.”
“Why are they dressed the same? They look like Trump. It’s creepy”, I say confused.
“They know it’s creepy. That’s why they are doing it.” Virgil comments.
“Good point. This is all beginning to scare me a little.”
“Yep. That’s the idea.”
Virgil, I think. Virgil, Virgil, Virgil. Just showing me around…Suddenly it occurs to me that…Is this purga…
Virgil puts up his hand as if to say enough and the word purgatory never leaves my lips. Virgil nods his head suggesting I look to a newly emerging scene to his left.
“Guilty. Guilty. Guilty… count 34. Guilty” It’s the deus ex machina I laugh. Resolution! Am I right, Virgil? The jury’s verdict has landed like a great ugly and at once beautiful turd center stage where everyone beholds it. “This will save us!” I exclaim smiling at Virgil.
“Hah!” Virgil scoffs. “Don’t be naïve! Have you looked at the freakin’ poll numbers? Trump is beating Biden. You know that, right?”
“It’s too early to talk about polling numbers.”
“You sound just like another Biden spokesperson. And you know it’s Bullshit! Bullshit! Bullshit! The election is five months away. And the polls have been consistent, my friend. Let me remind you and everyone else who dismisses the polling that denial is more than just a river is Egypt!”
I plug my ears with my fingers.” LA, LA, LA, LA! I can’t hear you, Virgil!! But I can see now you’ve been sent to torment me.”
“No, not at all. I’m here to remind you…show you around as I told you before. You decide what you can live with.”
Exasperated, I sigh loud enough for Virgil to hear. “But the country…I just don’t understand why Biden decided to run again?! He said, nobody could beat Trump but him? Really? Sounds a little arrogant. And geez, he’s old and it shows. It’s not inspiring a lot of confidence. Not sure what he was thinking. And when he gets all riled up, he comes off like one of the grumpy old men in the balcony on The Muppett Show.” I cringe thinking about Biden’s response to being described as a nice old man with a poor memory and confusing the names of the President of Mexico and Egypt.
“I don’t know The Muppet Show and, well, Biden… I think he’s your guy. And you know, getting angry… Trump’s crowd likes it when he gets angry. They think it makes him sound strong” Virgil shrugs and says, “Four years. I could get…” His voice trails off.
“Look…the abortion decision! Then there’s his platform…really great stuff with a singular focus… revenge… Then there’s the 34 felonies…c’mon!”
“You know he raised something like 50 or 60 million dollars after the verdicts were announced. That’s like two million for each guilty verdict. And as to his platform. Your right that he may focused solely on revenge, but the Heritage Foundation has taken care to develop a comprehensive platform. They’ll let him stay busy with revenge while they deconstruct and reconstruct government from top to bottom. Just something to think about.
“Yeah, I know. I’m depressed. I’m anxious, I’m depressed, I’m moody. I think I should stop watching the news, stop reading the paper. Wasn’t it Jefferson who said the government you elect is the government you deserve? People quote him to express their indifference about the outcome of the election and sometimes I envy that kind of indifference. I sort of wish I could do that.”
“I wonder how satisfying it will be to say at some point during a second Trump Presidency, ‘Well, we told you so!’ Look, some pretty important people seem to be coming ‘round to Trump. Jamie Dimon made a point to say that Trump’s first term wasn’t that bad. You know, lower corporate taxes. It’s good for business, right? And listen, he told the oil guys… the fossil fuel industry that if they vote for him, he’d make sure to slow the progress for electric vehicles. And Silicon Valley too! I mean they’re coming ‘round to Trump. If business does well, we all do well, right? A rising tide and all that! Right? Let’s make a deal, right? It’s the economy stupid! Right?”
“Ehhh this is crazy.”
“Well, RIGHT?!” Virgil was now staring hard at me.
“Um…No, I don’t think so. I don’t think it’s right. Really, I don’t. Not at all. What’s the matter with everybody? Why are people allowing themselves to be duped by this man? Did you listen to the story he told at a rally in Vegas. Something about a boat, with an electric battery and a shark. And the boat starts sinking. Trump wonders if he’ll be electrocuted by the battery or if the shark will eat him. WHAT?! The man is crazy!”
“Yeah, but his people loved it.”
“It made no sense…at all.”
“Yeah, it made no sense! But the crowd loves whatever gets under the skin of the elites. His people don’t care what the man says. They like the show he puts on and how much everything he does upsets the elites.”
“So, if he’s elected the crowd will get their kicks by watching the elites go nuts every time Trump spews nonsense? The man stands for retribution and nothing more. What was it he said? ‘I am your retribution’. That’s gross!”
“I don’t think he stands for anything. He wants people to like him and he needs to be at the center of things. He’s discovered that by pissing some people off he can be a hero to others. And loving him or hating him both garner the attention he so craves. It works for him. By taking us all to the edge he has created a kind of thrilling game. It’s a little like old Nero’s Rome- the thrill of watching life on the line. He was a guy who knew how to work the crowds. Create a spectacle. Gladiator fights to the death were a real crowd pleaser but nothing brought the crowds to their feet like letting the lions loose on one of your prisoners. There are no corners to hide in the Coliseum. All his chatter about arresting Joe Biden. You got to wonder what he has in mind to appease the revenge seeking crowds he has created. No one wants to be out there on floor of the coliseum floor if he’s elected. Just ask Mitch McConnell or Lindsey Graham.” Virgil rubbed his chin thoughtfully then added, “No, my friend Trump is all about the thrill of being taken right to the very edge.”
“Hmm. Do you think he knows where the edge is?”
“Nope. I don’t think he has a clue. There’s always been someone to intervene when he appeared poised to step over the edge. Even of the 6th of January, he was persuaded to finally step back from the edge. But this time I think it might be different…no matter what the outcome for the election.”
“I know. The guardrails are gone. What do you think that means?”
“I suppose we’ll all know when he steps over it.”
Something to Say 