No Holds Barred: Will the fat lady ever really sing?

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Will the fat lady ever really sing us out of last week’s election … or this year?  According to a quarantine weight gain report, there are a world of fat ladies. But are any of them singing?

We’ve been so used to “living on the brink” for the last 6 months, that now “coming to grips” might take some time. After all, the election 24/7 news cycle filled up most of our empty time and space.  Now what? Will boredom become a welcomed relief? Can we get on with our lives. What little lives we have left? What will CNN’s Jim Acosta do with his rage? Will Jim Carey’s SNL Biden be able to top Alec Baldwin’s Trump impersonation?  Will online popular Trump satirist Randy Rainbow have enough Broadway melodies and material to belt out some witty ditties on Joe and Kamala for four years? Different folks, different jokes. Tougher times. One wonders.



To be honest, Biden’s strong suit in campaigning was his sympathy with people who were sick or had experienced the plagues’ deaths and dying. His own family experience with extreme loss makes him the perfect Covid President. And he doesn’t have to dance at any big inaugural ball or walk down a D.C. avenue glad-handing any more crowds. Covid won’t allow for any of that.

I was thinking about all of the pre-election Presidential merchandise. Joe just had signs, t-shirts, and hats.  No real swag.  Donald had the “huuuuge” banners, “fuck your emotion” t-shirts, hats, crystal balls spouting his pre-recorded answers, balloons, dog collars and leashes. Trump’s Halloween mask was completely sold out. Joe did have a “Will you shut up, man” t-shirt in the last 2 weeks, that was it.

Merchandising analysts predicted that the candidate with the biggest swag would win. Trump had it all and ended dumped in last minute counting. But Trump’s followers were still standing on street corners waving the giant flags last Friday dressed in full Maga couture.


Blue for Biden and Trump piñata.
Mirella Caro, a proud Latino for Trump, and her fist of inflatable Trumps.
Trump crystal ball.

After all, Trump rallies became “Woodstock-ian” (not so much Jonestown) celebration/demonstrations.  I guess a lot of the Trumpsters were sick and tired of being alone at home so at least they could gather together and get really sick.  Though the party was over, there was no real sign of a “fat lady” other than a lot of  women stuffed in the “Maga” stars and stripes leggings rooting for their guy (now Trump leggings are marked down to $19 from $50).


MAGA leggings on sale!

The post-election run-up to the Electoral College count was like waiting to hear from your doctor about some diagnostic test results. Will you live or die?  When the answer came (basically Friday night) it was for some kind of “meh.” But you realized you would live. Many gloated; no one looted. Most felt life would be okay after all, BUT let’s get to work.


Our bipartisan home altar!

Up to that point, it was touch and go with many complaining of “twired” (tired and wired) nights and hungover trashed days. I wanted to get on whatever drug Trump was on during his nonstop jet streamed ten-day rallying tour. Obviously, nothing has been normal in 2020, and even the popular conservative WSJ pundit Peggy Noonan actually admitted in her pre-election column that she was not voting for Biden or Trump. Really? What did that even mean? I guess even Noonan bottomed out.


Trump out of gas in Arizona.

And then there was my astrologer. He predicted post-election confusion since the race came during Mercury retrograde which always heralds extreme confusion and delay. So here we are! He also said that three planets stuck in Capricorn since January (the start of Covid) could act like a giant laxative, so Covid is a cultural high colonic. But never fear, Aquarius is arriving in Saturn for two years and will act as a Pepto Bismol remedy. So, we should settle down and be “Covid free in ’23.” I ordered the t-shirt already.

As Bill Maher described the potential highly divided results, “We all need to understand it is truce or consequences. We must accept each other as roommates from hell and try to get along.”

I am not sure any “one person” can act as a great unifier (remember Obama tried that and now Biden is making his claim), it will be up to “we the people.” Our nation is seriously split. “Common ground” is now a slippery slope so find some decent shoes, mask up, and deal!  Let’s hope we can!

As for the election being “stolen,” these last nine months we have all had our lives stolen on some level. Trump went “postal” on the mail-in ballots and Bloomberg proved that money can’t buy you love in any Presidential or Senate election. I trust Bloomberg will retire to his winning state of American Samoa and Trump is headed for Florida. And dear old Putin is rumored to retire due to health issues. We are headed for a whole new cast of characters.



I don’t doubt Trump will start his own media empire and continue his rallies and power on along the sidelines. Why not? He is the biggest showman and his followers will always have his circus tent and side show to flock to. Now Melania … she is not LEAVING. She has already “LEFT” and has her own private life. As for CNN, MSNBC, or CNBC, or even Fox, who honestly wants to watch news anymore – even the “Post game reports”?

And everyone, please knock off the memes and the tweets (including OJ from his golf cart). We all became exhausted with social media and news addicts, and have started to look like the dancers in They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?


Dance till you drop!

If you’re too old to remember or too young to know, They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? was a 1969 movie about the Depression-era double marathons — deadly dancing derbies where the participants ended up collapsing or dead. I actually felt like Jane Fonda’s character in the end falling on the floor dragging her feet. It was an iconic image I will never forget. My 2020 “existing” condition (not “pre-existing) has now become “total exhaustion.” I no longer want to be “informed.” I feel too broken from perpetual “Breaking News!”

Election night six pack!

I was thinking about the idea of winning and losing. Remember Charlie Sheen in 2011 when he lost his role (and career) in the hit sitcom Two and a Half Men. He went on a giant “winning” live tour which bombed. “Winning” became his slogan for his life and he solidified a definition for the term that goes like this;

Winning – (verb)
Participating in an ostensibly drug induced, highly public flame-out, during which one loses an incredibly lucrative job and subsequently the respect of the American people.

Or more succinctly;

Winning – (verb)
Losing

(a quote from a TV reviewer!)

In some ways, the post-election has made me think a lot about winners and losers.  The way I felt after the first Biden/Trump debate. How neither candidate won in a landslide (as was predicted) and maybe that is good. Close elections make people feel validated, until they don’t. Is this the beginning of yet another “new democracy” or are we derby dancing out on that one?

Well, who needs to think about that, or even for race for President anymore?  As one friend told me this past weekend, “To hell with all this. In the end I am the president of me.”

Now that is my new slogan!  The ultimate in real campaign swag!


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