Even though I wish the election results were different I am not going to be a baby about it. He is the president and that’s just the way it is. I think we have to have confidence in the constitution, with its checks and balances which are intended to prevent despotry. But I vacillate in thinking about all this. He did what he had to do to get elected. He got the job he wanted by gaming the hearts and minds of his voters. I remember how democrats, after Gore lost to Bush, came together behind Bush even though they honestly and genuinely thought Gore should have won. That’s what you have to do in politics. You can’t look back or undo mistakes.
I watched the 60 Minutes interview. He looked more confident than he did at the meeting with Obama, though I had never noticed until now just how big the bags under his eyes are. He looked like some kind of stuffed animal. The ugly reality of deporting millions of Mexicans feels like a kind of genocide. They will literally have to send armed military personnel door to door to execute such a plan. He seemed to say that it wouldn’t be that dramatic, and that he would focus on the gang leaders and big time drug runners. Like that’ll be easy. Sounds like a civil war brewing. Deporting millions of illegals would ruin the service industry. I don’t know about today but the kitchen crew at a bar/restaurant I go to used to be staffed almost if not entirely by illegals. Imagine an America where people like that just disappeared, shipped to Mexico in the dark of night with no explanation for those left behind.
At first I thought his 60 Minutes comments were passable, but I now start to find them eerie. His bragging about how many Twitter followers he picked up since the election is enough to make anybody cringe, I would think. It is in league with the “400 pound hacker” comment, which still baffles me as having come from some unfathomable recess of this person’s mind. I am not certain why there was such interest in the changing of the wall to partly a fence. Why does that matter if it accomplishes what’s intended? I don’t know where it’s all going — nobody does — but I’ve come to have some confidence that the microscopic level of exposure given to the office makes it hard to get away with things.
I’ve become melancholy about the changes coming to the Trump Tower, which has been a favorite place of mine since I moved here. Sure, it’s tacky, gaudy, even ugly in its way. But that does not mean I can’t like it. The upper level public space has been my best kept secret since I discovered it years ago. It is the closest thing to a sanctuary as you would find in midtown Manhattan, as far as public spaces go. I don’t think I will be able to write there any more. The building will be surrounded and guarded like the terror target it now is. I probably will not be allowed to take pictures there like I used to, and the sanctuary which I used to feel I had all to myself might even be policed by Secret Service. I would have that space all to myself for hours of a day, with only the most intrepid tourists making it up there.
I revisited the fugue I attempted to write. It is awful. Going to try for pretty melodies instead.
