November 6, 2020
Dear Everyone:
Is it over yet?
In times of stress, I
find it helps to take a nice, long, soothing, warm bubble-bath.
I’ve been in here
since last Sunday.
Is it over yet?
Normally, I don’t
give a flying fig which candidate wins the Presidential Election every
four years. They’re pretty
much all the same, in my opinion.
But this isn’t “normal”.
Donald J. Trump is not, and never has been, a politician.
He is a dilettante.
He has been his entire life.
When he first started
out, he played at being a real estate developer, backed by his Daddy’s
millions. Then he played at
being a businessman, although most of the businesses he touched ended up
going down the drain.
For a while, he
played at running a casino.
He wasn’t very good at that, either.
But it didn’t matter because he was only playing.
Then he played at
being the host of a televised game show.
Basically, he was playing at being Monty Hall or Alex Trebek,
although they were much better at it than Trump was.
When the steam inevitably ran out of that enterprise, he played
at being a political candidate.
For the past four years, he’s played at being President, but not
very well.
Trump always puts me
in mind of a toddler who gets into his father’s toolbox.
He drags out the hammer and swings it around with both hands,
making a lot of noise and possibly breaking a few things in the process.
Then he gets hold of a screwdriver.
When we were little,
bitty kids, our brother, Matt, received a gift, probably for his
birthday. It was a toy
toolbox that could be attached to his tricycle.
Matt had a wonderful time, especially with the toy screwdriver.
As our Mother was
fixing dinner, Matt proudly presented her with some screws that he had
unfastened from somewhere.
Mother graciously accepted the prizes and put them in her apron pocket,
while continuing to prepare the evening meal.
A little while later,
Matt bestowed some more screws upon her, which also went into the apron
pocket. Busy with dinner,
Mother only had a passing thought to wonder, where did all these screws
come from.
Until the railing
fell off the veranda.
For four years, we
waited while Trump played at being President, wondering when the virtual
railing would fall off the virtual veranda.
We all knew he was
incompetent. The only
question was: How would his
inadequacies manifest themselves?
Would he stumble into something and start World War III?
But no, he didn’t wipe out half the world’s population.
Instead, he callously squandered the lives of hundreds of
thousands of Americans on his personal altar of The Wonderfulness of
Himself.
This time, it
matters. This time, it’s an
epic battle between the “New Normal” and the “Old Normal”.
Three days later, it’s still “Election Day in America”, while the
outcome continues to teeter like a drunken juggler on a tightrope, with
no idea which side he’ll inevitably fall on.
The fact of the
matter is: It’s not
“Election Day” so much as it is “Election Month”.
The Founders set it up to allow for lots of time.
The Presidential
Election takes place on the first Tuesday following the first
Monday in November. There
was a real reason for this.
By the beginning of November, the crops would have been harvested, but
the really cold weather would not yet have started.
That gave people time to get to the polls.
The Election didn’t begin until Tuesday so that no one had to
travel on Sunday. They had
all day Monday and most of Tuesday to reach the polls, usually in the
nearest town. Then they
could vote.
Of course, back in
those days only white men who owned land were allowed to vote.
The votes had to be
delivered to a place where they could be tallied.
The tallies had to be verified and delivered to the county seat,
where they would be forwarded to the office of the Secretary of State.
All these votes determined how the representatives would vote in
the Electoral College.
The Electoral College
meets on the first Monday following the second Wednesday
in December. In other words,
the Founders allowed for nearly 40 days for the voting to be completed.
So chill, people.
Try taking a nice,
long, relaxing, warm bubble-bath.
For as long as it takes.
Or until December 15th.
Whichever comes first.
Love, as always,
Pete
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