HUMOR: There’s No Time!
Chet threw clothes into a suitcase as his good friend and Trump supporter, Charles, looked on. He favored golf shirts and Bermuda shorts. Not the most practical wardrobe for Canada, Charles thought.
“Aren’t we going to lunch?” he asked.
“There’s no time!” Chet said. “Trump’s been inaugurated, and his vision of America is no place I want to be.”
“But in his speech,” Charles said. “He talked about inclusiveness. He said we would no longer ignore the poor. He promised to rebuild our economy, with an emphasis on the most needy. He said crumbling neighborhoods would be made safe again.”
“Exactly!” Chet shouted. “But do you want the poor sharing a table at Zerpetti’s on Grand?”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“I have. And another thing. Do you want them swilling beer at Grand Bank Stadium? Getting jobs that were always reserved for you and your friends? Chipping in around the water cooler? Think, man!”
Hmm, Charles thought. This isn’t the vision the liberals were anxious to share. Everything had been so tidy, with generations of lip service paid by politicians and the media, while nothing changed.
Chet put on a pair of sandals and donned dark glasses, grumbling all the while about Putin and the Russians. But what scintilla of evidence had anyone produced that the Russians had done anything, Charles asked.
Evidence? Chet cried. Who needs evidence? The newspapers and government said it was so. That was all the evidence anyone needed. Now, where did he put his sunscreen?
But couldn’t all this wait? Charles asked. In eight years we would have a new president.
Chet looked up from his suitcase. “Eight? What in the world makes you think there will be a second term?”
“If history has anything to say,” Charles replied. “With a few peculiar exceptions, every president in the last hundred years is getting a second term.”
I’ve got to go, Chet wailed. Lunch is definitely off. But why? Charles asked.
Chet grabbed his wallet. “I’ve got to get another suitcase.”