Trump costs friendships

By JOHN KANELIS / johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com

Damn you, Donald Trump!

You are the cause of my loss of friends. So help me, I’ll never forgive you for that!

Since the advent of Facebook I have categorized friendships through the social medium into two forms. I have Facebook “friends,” and I have the real thing. My Facebook “friends” come and go. I have a number of those folks with whom I might have a casual acquaintance; or perhaps have no interpersonal relationship of any sort.

It’s the number of real “friends” that has begun to dwindle over time. What does this diminution of friendships have in common? The folks who have severed relationships with me are Trumpkins. I am not.

I want to bring to attention one actual friend who bid me adieu about six months ago.

We worked together in Beaumont, Texas. We became pals. We would spend about 20 to 30 minutes each morning chatting about issues of the day. He sat on one side of the fence, I sat on the other. We knew that about each other. We never let it interfere with our friendship.

Then along came Donald Trump. I detest Trump. My friend seems to think Trump is the man to solve all the problems of the nation. My friend and I parted company about 25 years ago, but we stayed in touch. We continued to chat over the phone and occasionally over social media.

My wife and I returned to Beaumont once and met up with our friend. We chatted amiably. Indeed, my friend told me his wife couldn’t understand how we could remain pals despite our vast political difference. My pal’s response to her? He said he told her that “our friendship transcends politics. I never will let politics interfere with that.” I am paraphrasing, but that was the clear message.

It turns out my friend overstated the value of our friendship. He severed his ties with me. We got into a Trump snit. I guess that was all he could take.

Who’s to blame for that? It’s the idiot in chief in the White House.

There have been others. This one, though, still stings a bit. I lay the blame squarely at the feet of Donald Trump, the man who should not be president and who I hope for all I am worth gets his a** whipped in the next 13 days.

I doubt the friendship about which I have just told you will revive itself. I am going to hope it does.

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