He grabbed my ankles and began pulling me out of bed. He tightened his grip, and I realized it wasn’t my husband teasing me. I opened my eyes, and a large man in a navy blue suit and red tie with orange hair held my ankles and pulled me toward him. I tried to kick, and the grip tightened. I worked hard to force a scream so someone would hear me and come to my rescue. The scream began in my gut and rose up through my throat and finally out into the darkness of my bedroom and straight into my husband’s ear.
“Wake up, baby, wake up,” I heard my husband say. “Do you know where you are? Wake up.”
I finally realized that Donald Trump had not really been pulling on my ankles, but he’d been there in the fear of my psyche crowding my thoughts and feeding the frenzy of my worse nightmare for my country.
My blood-curdling scream woke up both my husband and me and kept us awake for a long time afterward. So much for peaceful weekend sleeping.
The reality of what is happening with the new president is worse than I ever imagined and worse than a nightmare. But unfortunately, this is a nightmare that doesn’t go away with the opening of my eyes. The relief from waking up from a terror dream is not abated, not now when every day brings one more horror and one more erosion of our democracy and republic.
Today, I have lost hope. Today, I feel the need to flee. Today, I cry for those most affected, and wish I could go back to the sleep-induced nightmare so I could kick my feet, scream my screams, and fight the demon in the room.
I will fight to become hopeful again, and I will do my part by continuing the phone calls, sending the postcards, and posting the reports. Please do the same.
I’m not going to state the obvious about the quote from James Humes. You can draw your own conclusions. But I would like to point out two things that crowd my thoughts today. The first is an observation, and the second is just plain common sense born from my love of language and using it properly.
First, if a person must tell you all the time that they are smart and great and huge, then I suggest, they really aren’t any of those things at all. Two pieces by John Steinbeck resonate this truth.
“He said, “I am a man,” and that meant certain things to Juana. It meant that he was half insane and half god.”
― John Steinbeck,
Let me modify, this quote from one of my favorite novels. It means he “thinks” he’s “half god.”
“Perhaps the less we have, the more we are required to brag.”
― John Steinbeck,
Now to the common sense part of this post. What we say reveals our humanity, integrity, thoughtfulness, and intelligence. The man masquerading as the President of the United States shows none of these things. His vocabulary is limited–someone put a thesaurus on the teleprompters, please–to “very,” “huge,” “sad,” and “fake.”
And the way in which he uses the words makes no sense. The latest is his admission that he believes the media is “fake media.” There is no such thing as “fake” media. It either exists as a form of communication with the public or it does not. It can be dishonest media, abhorrent (he probably doesn’t know the meaning of this word) media, or persistent media. But the fact is, if it is putting out information, whether it’s false or against your beliefs, it is real, not fake.
It’s embarrassing to have this man speak in public or with his fingers on his phone. He will never be my president because he will never speak for me.