I keep intending to write something for this blog about my reaction to the 2016 Presidential Election, but I can’t seem to do it. Every time I hear, read, or think of the phrase “President-elect Trump” I feel like I have entered an impossible, surreal, nightmare world. Sometimes I even get a little dizzy. Instead, at least for now, I offer the following from columnist, and former radio host, Garrison Keillor. It is from his syndicated column on Tuesday, November 15, 2016 entitled “Life After the Election.”
He will never be my president because he doesn’t read books, can’t write more than a sentence or two at a time, has no strong loyalties beyond himself, is more insular than any New Yorker I ever knew, and because I don’t see anything admirable or honorable about him. This sets him apart from other politicians. The disaffected white blue-collar workers elected a Fifth Avenue tycoon to rescue them from the elitists — fine, I get that — but they could’ve chosen a better tycoon. One who served in the military or attends church or reads history, loves opera, sails a boat — something — anything — raises llamas, plays the oboe, runs a 5K race now and then, has close friends from childhood. I look at him and there’s nothing there.