Nothing is more painful for a man than to admit he was the victim of female sexual assault, but I can remain silent no longer: In 1980 on an airliner somewhere over Arkansas, I was forcibly groped by the current Democratic nominee for president.
Traveling in my police uniform on official business, I’d been bumped to first class in Atlanta by a kindly desk agent who said her son was also a cop. An hour later we briefly stopped in Little Rock, Arkansas, and a woman in her early 30s took the empty seat next to mine.
I quickly introduced myself, but she hesitated before replying: “I’m, ahh, Pillory,” she said. “Pillory Minton.” The nightmare had begun…
I fell asleep immediately after takeoff – only to be jolted awake sometime later by a violent tugging on my…well, that private and sacred organ beneath my belt buckle. I think you know what I mean.
Pillory, wild-eyed and sweating, had covered us with a blanket and was muttering “Hot-diggety-dog, hot-diggety-dog!” as she went vigorously about her sordid business.
“What the hell are you doing?” I managed. “Shut up, big boy!” she hissed. “I love a man in uniform and I just can’t help myself!”
Bewildered, confused, I refastened my zipper, flung the blanket aside and stumbled from first class in search of a flight attendant.
“You don’t look well, sir. Are you all right?”
“That woman next to me, Pillory Minton, she just…”
“Oh, you mean Hillary Clinton, the First Lady of Arkansas. She’s the governor’s wife.”
Oh, what to do, what to do? Who were they going to believe – an ordinary cop or the First Lady of Arkansas? Trembling, traumatized, I took a seat in coach for the rest of the flight.
When we deplaned in Miami, Hillary Clinton caught my eye, put a finger to her lips, then passed the finger over her throat in a cutting motion.
You can tell some people are lying because their lips are in motion. You can tell Hillary Clinton is lying even before her lips move, because we know she is forming the lie in her head.
Since lying is part of her DNA – the very fabric of her being – it must also affect her personal life. For example, if she feels an urgent need to urinate but a restroom trip is inconvenient, she must tell herself: “I have no need to pee.”
If she then wets herself she is required to perpetuate the lie: “No, I did not pee my pants. Either I am unknowingly pregnant and my water just broke, or, because of the high humidity a part of me that rarely sweats is sweating profusely.”
As an equal opportunity critic, however, I must point out that Donald Trump’s DNA is also gravely flawed. He is – let me be gentle – a narcissistic fool.
Narcissistic is self-explanatory. When Donald gazes into a mirror he sees a handsome Greek deity smiling back at him and giving a thumbs-up. But by fool, I do not mean he is stupid. His IQ is no better or worse than average.
Donald is a fool because he has no mastery over the most precious of all human gifts – his mind. Whatever bizarre concept pops
into his head, he is immediately compelled to verbalize it. He gives no thought to its layered meanings or consequences. What enters his head must exit his mouth.
So…in this election we have two choices: A liar or a fool.
I still lean toward the fool, in the desperate hope that he might be surrounded by wise people who could keep him in check.
Surrounding a liar with truthful people is a less likely scenario. Liars are more comfortable with fellow liars at their elbows.
Liar or fool. What a frightening quandary for the American voter.
There was both good news and bad news on the Fourth of July.
The bad: As we proudly celebrated the 240th birthday of this great nation, we found ourselves presided over by Barack Obama, the first and only president in our long history who actually dislikes the country he leads. The good: Come Independence Day 2017, someone not named Barack Obama will be living in the White House.
One of the classically-ironic phrases used by B.O. when promoting his twisted perception of America is, “That’s not who we are.” Barack, you have no idea who we are. But we are surely not who you are.
Neither Donald Trump or Hillary Clinton inspire comfort and joy, but they clearly understand the U.S.A has no peer among the nations of the world. They like America. They know we are exceptional. And, if nothing else, that alone will be a great and glorious leap forward from the dark days of the Obama presidency.
Mr. Obama, nearing the end of his reign, is most concerned now with the legacy he will leave behind. Have no fear, Mr. President, in less than eight years you have forged one helluva legacy…
–You have deliberately worsened race relations between Blacks and Whites, actually widening a divide that had been steadily closing with every passing year.
–By refusing to properly acknowledge and resolutely attack radical Islamic terrorists, Americans are actually nervous now whenever they find themselves in crowded venues.
–Countries that once respected and even feared the potential of our wrath when they did us wrong, now consider us a paper tiger.
I could go on and on, but this is a blog not a book.
The really good news – the greatest of news — is that America is stronger than the occasional Barack Obama. We will continue to survive and thrive through the worst of leaders and the worst of times.
Far too many Americans spend their entire lives bouncing about in tiny bubbles of self-interest, their brains engaged in little beyond sex, the next meal, the next paycheck, the next Big Game and the state of their health.
“Bubble People” are like boats without tiller or sail, swept along from birth to death by those who set the nation’s course and choose the ports of call.
Bubble People have no real knowledge of politics, politicians or current events. They dine exclusively on tasty sound bites and slogans, the opinions of colleagues and neighbors and the pronouncements of a tipsy Uncle Joe at the family barbecue.
Bubble People are the millennials flocking to Bernie the socialist – eyes glazed over by FREE! – unaware that socialism’s foundation is governmental control of every facet of American life.
Bubble People are the champions of Donald Trump, the spoiled little rich kid who wears arrogance and ignorance as badges of honor. (Donald resides in the largest bubble of all.)
Bubble People are the Hillary-huggers who tell themselves her “good” qualities outweigh her near-pathological dishonesty.
(Dishonesty poisons the well; nothing good can ever come from it.)
But here’s the saddest thing about the Bubble People: In close presidential elections they can be the margin of victory that puts an inferior and even dangerous candidate in the White House.
That’s how we wound up with Barack. And – if good people do nothing – that’s how we could wind up with Bernie or Donald or Hillary.