Tuesday was another walking contradiction, particularly since I didn’t do much walking.
I’d been paying attention to really important matters on Monday — a rained-out stock car race about which the Bleacher Report pays me to write, college baseball regionals, general early-week angst — and the grass needed cutting, and I’d spent Tuesday morning writing about the aforementioned stock car race.
In short, I got caught behind, and the world just kept right on whirring.
Rain had pushed back South Carolina’s regional baseball game until 2 p.m., so that’s what I had on television when I got through turning hot laps on my riding mower.
It occurred to me at about 7 p.m. that primaries were going on, and, for a moment, I thought a 24-hour news channel was showing reruns.
Republicans were talking about stopping Donald Trump. That train had left the station long ago, I thought.
I knew Trump had made racist remarks about a federal judge born in Indiana. So what else is knew? That’s every time Trump stands behind a microphone. He wants to ban Muslims from America and torture them abroad. He’s going to build a wall around my house and make ME pay for it. If I don’t like it, he’ll waterboard me. At Guantanamo.
Donald Trump is the best at everything. He makes the best deals. He’s the best divider and the best unifier. He’s the greatest “militarist,” and if he’s president, our foreign policy is going to be both predictable and unpredictable. You’re going to love it. It’s uuuuuggggge. He pokes fun at everyone who is not he. He loves the poorly educated. Everyone who disagrees with him is a loser, a bozo, a joke, going out of business, and he’s about to sue him, her, and it.
His supporters eat that stuff up. He is uuuuugggge. Every day he tells them what they want to hear, and they think he’s telling it like it is.
Somehow, the idea goes, the Republicans are going to go through the Rules Committee and declare that, as a candidate, Trump is not fit. It’s the “Harper Valley PTA” solution. (Can’t you envision Sarah Palin doing a video of that song, by the way?)
Trump can’t even let Hillary Clinton lock up the Democratic nomination in peace. She’s just the first woman ever nominated for president by a major party. It’s insignificant when compared to the possibility that America could elect a dictator. For those who dispute this notion, I ask for them to tell me realistically how this man could govern as anything other than a dictator.
All the staid Republican leaders who reluctantly endorsed Trump over the past few weeks are now shocked and appalled again. The Tea Party seemed like such a good idea, right up until “Meet John Doe” wound up being a billionaire.
Most of my books are available here, in Kindle and print editions.
The following links are for the print editions.
Forgive Us Our Trespasses is a crime novel about corruption in high places, or at least as high as places get in South Carolina. Dad’s a monstrous crook. Kids are on drugs. An improbable rise and calamitous fall, written just in time for the Age of Trump.
Longer Songs is my collection of short stories, all expanded from songs I’ve written. Try them. You like them.
Crazy of Natural Causes, set in Kentucky, is a fable on the absurdity of life, told through a football coach who loses everything and finds ways to cope. Most of the time, it’s Jesus. Sometimes it’s weed. Chance Benford just tries to get along.
The Intangibles is set in the 1960s, with desegregation, civil rights, bigotry and upheaval all around and a high school football team at the center.
The Audacity of Dope is a freewheeling tale of an unlikely hero and his girlfriend leading the Feds on a wild chase across the country. Riley Mansfield is a pot-smoking songwriter. Melissa Franklin is a schoolteacher ready for a change.
My sportswriting is mainly on display at montedutton.com. Follow me on Twitter @montedutton, @hmdutton (writing), and/or @wastedpilgrim (a bit more irreverent and philosophical). I’m on Facebook at Monte.Dutton and Instagram at TUG50.