Losers Weepers (or how the election was stolen)

Four years ago we had an election party here at the hacienda, about 4 dozen or so friends gathered to watch Hillary Clinton be crowned queen of America. Things were going swell, toasts made, food eaten, drinks flowing … until about an hour into a news broadcast that predicted Florida voted Trump, then most of the Deep South and finally the Rust Belt. People left in droves and quite a few left in tears. Trust me, we swore we would never have another election party so help us god.

Fast forward what seems like a lifetime, those four years of Donald J. Trump, the man who has a pathological need to inject himself into our daily lives the way Covid did three years later. Every damn day was another round of Trump, every news feed was more Trump, every social media platform was Trump and Trump and in case you were looking for another helping, Trump. Those four years seem like an eternity in the rearview.

The pollsters, just like they did in 2016, predicted a landslide, a blue tsunami, a massacre. And just like 2016, they were absolutely wrong. By midnight the election was a virtual dead heat and we were dead on our feet, muttering incoherently as we shuffled off to our sleepless bed depressed and angry and considering emigration to some far off land. The Senate was back in the hands of Moscow Mitch and Trump was calling for the voting to stop, he’d already won.

Yesterday, the day after, he was declaring victory but demanding vote counting stop in Pennsylvania and demanding vote counting continue in Nevada and Arizona. Logical coherency is not one of the President’s many virtues and whether this is what half the country loves about the man, all I can honestly say is after four years of him I have no idea what people love about this narcissistic huckster. Business acumen? Christian ideals? Well considered policies? Family values? Honesty? Nice hair?

Today the country and the world are waiting on the last states left to finish their tally. Any one that falls into Sleepy Joe’s box means the end of Donald J. Trump’s presidency. My long national nightmare will be over, to quote Gerald Ford regarding Watergate and the Nixon near impeachment. No doubt in my mind whatsoever we won’t see the man slink quietly into the shadows. Fox will set him up with a news show or he’ll start his own network, let him rant to his heart’s content. Trust me, we haven’t seen the last of this snake oil salesman.

But … he will no longer be the bull in the White House china shop. What the next four years bring, your guess is good as mine. Still, half of us are ready for some sanity.

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