Trump’s callousness in full view

You want a measure of the callousness of the Dumbass in Chief, the guy who said he looks out for the “little guy”?

On the second day of Donald Trump’s unprovoked international trade war, a day in which the Dow Jones Industrial Average shed more than 2,000 points , costing total investments to lose trillions of dollars, Trump jets off to Florida to play a few rounds of golf.

Hey, no worries, man. The MAGA Moron in Chief doesn’t give a rat’s red backside about the loss of millions of Americans’ retirement funds. He said he does, but you know how believable anything is that flies out of Trump’s overfed pie hole.

It kind of reminds me of the February 2021 escapade in which Sen. Ted Cruz sought to grab a few rays in Cancun while Texans were freezing to death in the killer winter storm that paralyzed the entire damn state. Cruz got caught escaping, returned to Texas … and then blamed his daughter for talkiing the family into the ill-fated family vacation.

This time, the callousness belongs to the president of the United States of America, who launched an unprovoked international trade war by imposing tariffs on virtually every product imported into this country. Nobel laureates have proclaimed this to be a catastrophe. So have politidians of both parties. Even the great President Reagan beomoaned tariffs in the 1980s, calliing them a national sales tax that falls on every Amerixan to pay.

One of the countless lies that Trump told voters while campaigning for the presidency is that he cares about them, their welfare and their livelihood.

He doesn’t give a sh** about ’em, the folks who followed him all over creation to cheer on the lies he told them.

Here’s a thought: If he truly cared about us, he would keep the golf clubs stashed away and he would rescind the tariffs he knew would cause the havoc they have caused.

Move over, President W.H. Harrison

I long have held the late President William Henry Harrison up as the model for setting the dubious record for making stupid presidential decisions.

Donald Trump is challenging President Harrison for that title.

Harrison’s stupidity manifested itself on inauguration day, March 3, 1841. It was bitterly cold in Washington, D.C. Harrison’s medical team warned him to bundle up before delivering his inaugural speech. He ignored the medical advice and stood in the cold rain for well past an hour droning on about whatever was the issue of the day.

He then caught pneumonia and was bed-ridden until April 4. That’s when he died. They swore in VP John Tyler.

Profoundly stupid on the president’s part, correct? Yes. It was.

Trump has been told by Nobel laureate economists on the left and the right that the tariffs he has imposed will be catastrophic. They will punish Americans who will pay exhorbitantly high prices for goods and commodities imported from abroad. They will do little harm that Trump intends to inflict on the exporting nations.

But … he imposed the tariffs anyway. He has put millions of Americans’ livelihood in potentially dire peril. He launched without apparent provocation and international trade war that includes some of our strongest, most reliable and faithful allies and trading partners. Such as Canada, Mexico, France, Australia and Japan.

Yes, the dumbass in chief has decided to declare economic war on the entire planet apparently believing he is going to strengthen our hand in the world market.

Well, President Harrison’s stupidity had an obvious negative impact on his personal health and well-being. Donald Trump’s stupidity will reverberate all across Planet Earth.

Step aside, W.H. Harrison. You have company in the pantheon of pitiful presidents.

Trump inscribe’s hideous legacy

What does it say about a U.S. president who hears from the top economists on Earth that a policy he is considering would bring unvarnished disaster for Americans’ life savings … but then goes ahead with the decision to proceed?

It tells me that the president is hellbent on inscribing his place as the worst president in U.S. history.

How in the name of economic sanity can Donald J. Trump impose tariffs on our closest allies and most reliable trading partners and then watch as retirement accounts vaporize in real time?

He has through executive action spurred an international trade war, guaranteed a huge spike in inflation, forced the nation into a negative economic growth pattern and cost Americans billions of dollars in their retirement accounts.

Where I come from, that makes Trump the worst president in the history of the republic.

He doesn’t take advice. He heeds only his overfed “gut” and his “hunch.” He seeks to punish nations for “ripping us off,” yet imposes tariffs on such economic giants as American Samoa and Vanuatu.

Yours truly’s retirement account is vanishing before my eyes. Why? Because the numbskull in chief doesn’t care one damn bit about protecting the people who pledged to protect when he took office.

Musk wearing out his welcome?

Some within the political punditry class of Americans are beginning to speculate over many folks predicted would happen once Donald Trump took the oath of office as POTUS.

There’s been some legitimate reporting that Elon Musk, the de facto co-president, might be on the way out at the West Wing.

I haven’t heard much conjecture yet as to why Trump and Musk will part company. I do have a theory. It is that Musk is stealing Trump’s thunder.

Some of us have begun referring to the administration as the Musk-Trump administration. You know what that does to any ego-driven politician in America? It sends them into orbit. If that’s what is happening with Trump, well, I don’t blame him one bit for getting upset.

Americans voted for Trump, not the world’s richest man, as president. I wasn’t one of them, but that’s not the point. I accept the verdict of the slim majority of Americans who cast their lot with the twice-impeached, convicted felon who won the 2024 election. I still believe they made a mistake, but the results were certified and entered into the record.

The White House, quite naturally, says Trump is standing by Musk. But anyone whose butter hasn’t slipped off their noodle knows of Trump’s mercurial temperament.

Which is to say that today’s statement of loyalty and support by Trump can turn the next day into a social media pink slip.

Trump’s gone loony

Donald J. Trump has flipped that mass of hair on his noggin, gone ’round the bend, has become certifiably nuttier than a Snickers bar.

He says he is considering a way to seek a third term  in the only office he’s ever sought or held. How does he do that? He ain’t saying. Other Trumpkins are concocting ways to skirt around the U.S. Constitution, which has that 22nd Amendment that bars anyone from being elected more than twice to the presidency.

Trump’s been elected twice, to this nation’s ever-lasting shame.

He says “there are ways which you could do it,” meaning he can find a way to get elected a third time as POTUS.

It won’t happen.

Not in this or any lifetime any sane person can envision.

As I said already, Trump isn’t sane. He’s nuts. Bonkers. He’s also an old man who might not live to the end of the current term. He’ll be 83 at the end of the current term. Cognition? Looks like it’s beginning to slip … but that’s just me thinking out loud.

The framers made it difficult to amend the Constitution. They didn’t write a perfect governing document, but they were right to set the bar very high for changing amendments added to it.

The 22nd Amendment is on the books for keeps.

Come back during rush hour!

A friend who lives in Austin ventured through Princeton recently partly to check out some of the issues I have raised on this blog … at least that’s what he said.

He was traveling from Paris through Princeton and wanted to know about the hubbub over this city’s enormous growth.

He got a small taste of what I have been saying about this Collin County community that is undergoing a fairly fundamental identity crisis. My friend said somethinga about the city-imposed moratorium on residential construction. The council imposed the ban and then recently extended it another six months. My hunch is that it will do so again and again … and may even again.

City Manager Mike Mashburn estimates that Princeton is home to more than 40,000 residents. I believe him! Builders are planting “New Homes Coming” signs still on undeveloped residential plots as they commence contruction to fulfill building permits that already were approved prior to the council’s decision to suspend residential construction.

The city has overbuilt beyond its ability to service the people who already are here. It is trying to halt the construction long enough to enable it to provide the infrastructure it needs to provide the service.

My friend said he cannot imagine how tough it is during morning and evening rush hours along U.S. 380, the major east-west thoroughfare that cuts through Princeton. What’s more, it’s going to get worse. Texas transportation gurus want to widen 380 from four lanes to six, but to do that the’ll have to shut down two of the lanes to make the highway a two-lane track while they build the extra lanes.

I appreciate my friend’s outsider perspective. He can’t “imagine” how bad it can get here. I got news for him. Neither can I.

No fun traveling these days

Remember when you were a kid and you just couldn’t wait to go to the airport and prepare to fly on a big jet airplane?

Traveling was fun in those days, correct? Not any more.

Hey, I’m whippin’ a dead horse with that one, but it needs a little wallop once again.

I just returned from a four-day trip to Portland, Ore., to bid my sister a heartfelt farewell. Getting there and back, though, was no picnic.

Transportation Safety Administration personnel always seem to ensure that our next flying adventure will be one for the books. To be fair, this one doesn’t qualify as an epic experience. My departure from Dallas/Fort Worth airport was relatively hassle free. I didn’t have to remove my shoes and place my laptop in a separate basket for screening. I breezed on through.

Coming home last night was a bit different as I departed Portland’s airport. TSA staffers were barking orders and, frankly, giving this old guy a bit of anxiety trying to get through the maze and lie ahead.

But I got through.

I say all this merely to remind us of the havoc those fu**ing terrorists created on 9/11.

We won’t ever return to the good old days when flying was fun.  Stlll, I kind of like longing for a moment when I can relive the joy I used to feel when I got ready to get on that big bird and fly away.

Farewell sis … what a ride!

PORTLAND — I came back to the city of my birth — and my sisters’ birth — to bid farewell to the older of my two sisters.

Georgianne surrendered to the physical demons that had plagued her for years, succumbing Feb. 24 to complications brought on by COPD.  She was 14 months younger than me.

We had two services. One was to celebrate sis’s amazing life. She lived just short of 74 years. Her trip in this life was a wild one, to be sure. She had her issues growing up. Sis got through them and went on to lead a productive life. The other service was at the crypt where her ashes are interred next to Mom and Dad.

Sis never really shook herself completely free of the difficulties that followed her into teenhood and early young adulthood.

However, she was full of love and that love came back to blanket her during the celebrations we had of the life she led. I am grateful for that and I know she is, too.

I will return home late tomorrow to North Texas, where I have established my own life. Perhaps I should say where I am rebuilding my life. Many of you who have read this blog know about the circumstances there. It’s coming along.

This trip to where I came into this world, though, is about Georgianne Duback. She would tell me while seeking a favor from me that “I’ll love you forever.”

Well, sis, know that I truly will love you forever.

Farewell, sis … what a ride!

PORTLAND — I came back to the city my birth — and my sisters’ birth — to bid farewell to the older of my sisters.

Georgianne surrendered to the physical demons that had plagued her for years, succumbing Feb. 24 to complications brought on by COPD.  She was 14 months younger than me.

We had two services. One was to celebrate sis’s amazing life. She lived just short of 74 years. Her trip in this life was a wild one, to be sure. She had her issues growing up. Sis got through them and went on to lead a productive life. The other service was at the crypt where her ashes are interred next to Mom and Dad.

Sis never really shook herself completely free of the difficulties that followed her into teenhood and early young adulthood.

However, she was full of love and that love came back to blanket her during the celebrations we had of the life she led. I am grateful for that and I know she is, too.

I will return home late tomorrow to North Texas, where I have established my own life. Perhaps I should say where I am rebuilding my life. Many of you who have read this blog know about the circumstances there. It’s coming along.

This trip to where I came into this world, though, is about Georgianne Duback. She would tell me while seeking a favor from me that “I’ll love you forever.”

Well, sis, know that I truly will love you forever.

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