READY, FIRE, AIM: I Will Not Concede

As we stumbled into the weekend, I heard on the radio that former Vice President Joe Biden had won the election.

But I also read somewhere that one of President Trump’s campaign attorneys told the media, “This election is not over.” So maybe we’re only at the start of the 2020 election, what with all the lawsuits that have been filed by the Republican Party — six lawsuits in Pennsylvania alone, and at least one each in Nevada, Arizona, Georgia and Michigan. It could be years before we find out the final results of this election.

And no matter how long it takes, President Trump will not concede. That’s how it’s looking, anyway. Based on numerous op-eds posted to the internet over the past couple of months — left-leaning or right-leaning — it seems that no one actually expects Donald Trump to concede, no matter how the ballot counting and lawsuits turn out.

So I’ve decided to take that as my personal blueprint. No concessions! Starting right here and now, I’m making my own resolute commitment, to refuse to concede.

I’m laughing to myself, just thinking about it. “I will not concede!” I will squint my eyes as I say it… and maybe raise one eyebrow. I won’t say it too loudly… just firmly.

Maybe even use a British accent? That would be fun.

The problem is… I’m not sure what, exactly, I can refuse to concede. I mean, it’s easy enough for President Trump to not concede an election. Something like 70 million people marked his name on their ballot, either intentionally or by accident, and that gives him a lot of ammunition for sticking to his guns. (If you will excuse the Second Amendment metaphor.) I’ve never had my name on a ballot, period — except in eighth grade when I was running for student council, and it’s probably way too late to refuse to concede that election.

I could have refused to concede to the divorce that Darlene demanded, and that would’ve certainly made someone uncomfortable. But I didn’t, and now… well, that’s all water under the bridge. (I never should have conceded to that white leather couch. It was all downhill from there.)

But anyway, why am I even talking about stuff that happened long ago? The fun lies in refusing to concede something right now, in the moment. A refusal that makes life difficult for someone else.

Like what the President is doing.

I could refuse to concede that my library books are overdue, but our library has an ‘automatic renewal’ system set up, so a book has to be extremely overdue before they ask you to concede that you’ve lost it. And then there’s a hefty fine — the full cost of a replacement book. I doubt even President Trump would refuse to concede, if he had to pay a hefty fine.

As you can tell, I’m flailing here, a bit. There’s really nothing going on in my life that I can refuse to concede, unless, for example, the Daily Post editor were to make some edits to this article. I could refuse to concede to the edits. But that assumes that he’s actually going to read the article, which I very much doubt. He usually just posts whatever he gets handed, without paying too much attention to insignificant things like facts, content, grammar, and spelling.

So I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. Here, I’ve made this heartfelt commitment not to concede — ever! — but only if it won’t cost me anything… and only if it will cause someone else discomfort, or anxiety… either right now, or in the very near future.

Maybe I could get tested for the coronavirus. They would tell me that my test was positive, and I would say, “Sorry, I will not concede to a positive test!” That would get someone riled up, I bet.

How much does a COVID test cost? I think I read somewhere that they run about $95 each. Unless you’re on Medicare (which I’m not, unfortunately.)

I could say to them, “$95 dollars? Over my dead body!”

That would be fun.

Louis Cannon

Underrated writer Louis Cannon grew up in the vast American West, although his ex-wife, given the slightest opportunity, will deny that he ever grew up at all.