The Pledge of Allegiance

I pledge allegiance to a man who divides the state of America

And to the Republicans with whom I stand

One party under Trump, truth invisible 

With liberty and justice forestalled

Not one

Not one.

Can I be residing in the same universe as they? Have they not heard the damning, undisputed testimony? Did they not read the "perfect" transcript? Did they not recoil in horror at the unambiguous mandate from above to ignore the request to appear, to produce evidence?

Not one.

Our system of government is torn apart for we know there were without doubt many in their midst who found the conduct of this man wholly unacceptable, fully outside prescribed boundaries and totally in violation of the law and Constitutional dictates. Yet neither conscience nor courage prevailed. Political expediency was the air they breathed and the ground upon which they strode.

Not one.

It was impossible for me to view this charade without anger. To listen to their raised voices, their shouts of indignation and outrage. Their pledge of allegiance not to country, not to justice, not to morality. Not to anything but him. 

Not one.

T-Rump

We thought the last of this species had perished 66 million years ago. But, to our horror, we now learn one was hatched less than 75 years past. And here is what we know of it:

Most notable physical features:

Tiny brain, small hands, enormous ass, swollen head 

Most notable qualities:

Inveterate liar, insatiable ego 

Habitat:

Anywhere there are sycophants, any place constructed in over the top bad taste

Attracted to:

Autocrats, dictators and other assholes

Repulsed by:

Facts, immigrants

Mating habits:

Anyone but Nancy Pelosi

Favorite activity:

Tweeting (It is the shrill sound an idiot makes when spouting off)

Favorite foods:

Anything as long as it is smothered in ketchup, and starts with the letter hamburger

What it will be remembered for:

Nothing

    How it is terminated:

    Still undetermined

So lock your doors, turn off the lights and hide under the bed until this menace is extinct. There are reports that its demise may be imminent but the Vegas betting line is that it will survive until 2024. May we only hope it is more than 66 million years until another T-Rump appears to wreak havoc.

Angels, Devils and My Dad

Good morning dad,

It may be a year since I've written but that doesn't mean I don't think of you often. If you want to catch up on virtually every thought I have thought over the past 365 days just go to my blog: tooea..., oh Hell you know what it is. Am I actually soliciting readership from my dead dad?

Speaking of Hell, I hope to God (is there a God by the way?), I pray to God (well I don't really pray, but you get the idea), I trust in God (like it says on our currency) that there is a special place reserved (your table is right this way) for one individual who has caused more pain and heartache than I would think the Devil (is there a Devil by the way?) could conjure up on his best (worst) day. Maybe his orange face is flush because, wait, did you happen to hear of the Devil sneaking out about 3 years ago, that face always appears to be standing too close to a fire, that hair that seems to be hiding something underneath, could it be horns?

But enough about that. This is neither the time nor the place for me to dwell on negatives. Let me tell you about the most important news of the day: your great-granddaughter. 

If there is one particular sadness to your having left us 40 years ago today, it is that this world never really got to fully see you in your glory as a grandfather. Because I have learned there is a feeling that comes over you when looking at a child of your child that is unlike anything else you have experienced before. And in my mind I can picture you, in full health and pure joy, taking on a role for which you were so perfectly suited. Oh, I wander a bit off topic: your great-granddaughter.

Wait a second for that, if you can forgive me. They are just about to impeach that imbecile for committing a tip of his own massive iceberg sin or two. He has violated as many laws of man and beast as he is capable (and he is eminently capable) and, oh dear God, please stop me now.

So, as I was saying before I so rudely interrupted myself, your great-granddaughter. She is doing everything everyone else her age is doing, only better. At least in my rose colored glasses. And if God created the Devil, he must certainly have allowed room for Angels, even here on earth (there are some up top, aren't there?). And where there is bad to be found in this universe there is also a good that is almost hard to capture in mere words.

And if there is a Heaven (and God help us if there isn't, or more precisely, maybe God should not have rested on the seventh day) then you and Mom must be residing there together.  I still imagine you as you were before you became ill and the Mom I see is the same vibrant, generous soul she was pre her decade long slide (by the way, tell Mom we checked the 1920 census and she was almost 3 months older than you, not four years younger as she announced to me throughout my childhood). 

Anyway, I have rambled on in non-sequitur for long enough. Just wanted to let you know you are forever embedded in my heart and my head. For as long as I remain within this mortal coil you will always be with me.

All my love.

PS - Dad, if you like this post, I would really appreciate it if you took a moment to write a positive comment on my blog. I don't get enough response. And if there is anyone else up there who may be interested, just pass along my address: tooearlytocall.com (oh, I am so very deeply flawed)

"You're NOT Fired. You're Exonerated"

("McConnell, Coordinating With White House, Lays Plan For Impeachment Trial")

Mr. McConnell has a statement to make:

Mitch McConnell: "Good morning ladies and gentlemen. After consultation with the White House it has been determined that the trial of President Trump will be aired in three broadcasts, each of one hour duration. Mark Burnett will be executive producer of this mini-series, the working title being "An Apprentice No More", a/k/a "You're NOT Fired, You're Exonerated."

"Donald Trump will play himself, for which he will be awarded an Emmy for best actor in a wholly fictional drama about a President who does not commit any act which is less than perfect but nevertheless faces totally unfounded charges of wrongdoing."

"The finale will air on every channel and will be playing simultaneously in Russia over state owned airwaves. It will have the largest audience ever known to man and, yes, Mr. Trump did win the 2016 election by unanimous vote."

"I will take no questions, for there can be no questions."

"God Bless America and God Bless Donald Trump. Or is Donald Trump now God so is he merely blessing himself?"

An Early Christmas in the Bronx

Christmas came early this year in New York. For the good little girls and boys who love a Bronx tale, Santa filled our stockings with Cole. And it made us smile.

Forget the 12 days of escalating gifts from our true love, one big one from the son of the Boss more than sufficed. We don't require five golden rings, for soon enough we will have our 28th. We just saw the ghost of Christmas future and he was watching the ticker tape parade down Broadway. And it made us smile.

Come Gerrit, Luis and Masahiro too. Add a few more reindeer like J.A., Domingo and, for good measure, Deivi. Rudolph can stay home this Christmas. No emergency backup needed.

This is the 2020 version of Star Wars and the Evil Empire is kicking butt.

With an everyday lineup that makes Murderer's Row seem more like they committed simple assault and battery and a relief corps that can put out the worst conflagration with a rising four seamer, a nasty slider, or a sinker that disappears faster than a hamburger in front of Donald Trump, our cup runneth over.

So what is $324 million among friends?

We have suffered far too long. A decade without lording over all others feels like an eternity. The world is beset with woes and the impeachment of the liar in chief is on full view, non-stop. We were in desperate need of the jolly old man with the funny red suit and the flowing white beard. And he didn't disappoint.

OK, we understand the games still have to be played. And anything can happen. But today there is but one truth. We are back.

Merry Christmas to all. Except the Red Sox (and maybe the Astros). And to all Yankee fans, a very good night.

Rip Off the Band Aid

("Two Articles of Impeachment Are Nowhere Near Enough")

How many will even read the two Articles of Impeachment? The nation, whether Mr. Bouie recognizes it or not, is already suffering impeachment fatigue. And if he thinks more months of investigation and more charges will keep America's attention and change the destiny of Mr. Trump, I have a bridge in Brooklyn I would like to discuss with him.

For the sake of historical perspective it would theoretically be significant for Congress to chronicle the War and Peace length myriad misdeeds of the liar in chief. But that is better left to Doris Kearns Goodwin or Michael Beschloss. As a political strategy, the Dems beating a dead horse would seem a grave miscalculation.

Let us move on to the Senate and watch Mr. McConnell run his dog and pony show. The die has already been cast. There are no John McCain's or even Jeff Flake's to show a hint of courage. Mitt Romney refuses to take his dog off the roof of the car. Justin Amash is not in this house (and not even in the party anymore). Susan Collins or Lisa Murkowski? MIA.

We have already made our peace with where this is headed. Don't make us watch the coming train wreck in slow motion. Rip off the band aid. It will only hurt for a second.

Twas the Night Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, when there in the House

The battle was raging to impeach a louse

The charges were leveled, each one quite alarming

On how to unseat a not so prince charming

The atmosphere heated though outside was cold

No place for the timid, the rhetoric bold

"We're tired of him, we have suffered this fool

He's petty, vindictive and mercilessly cruel"

When one voice arose above all the chatter

"He's lost his way, he knows not what matters"

And all eyes then turned from where the words came

With red suit and white beard, they all knew his name

The room did go quiet, there came forth no sound

And then from the silence came one voice profound

He said "come to me", they all gathered near

"Now take this to heart, these truths please hold dear"

He nodded to all, and over they came

He pointed and shouted and called some by name

"Now Nancy and Adam and yes Devon too

Come Jerrold and Zoe and Hakeem, please do"

"I've places to go and children to see

Tonight of all nights other places to be

I've stockings to fill, my reindeer await

I can't linger long, I cannot be late"

"Donald's been naughty, he's never been nice

And so many stockings, he's just stuffed with ICE

He deserves nothing, take back his toys

And pass them all out to good girls and boys"

"But all of this hatred you show towards each other

Is not what I want, you are sisters and brothers,

Good will toward one, good will toward all

On Christmas eve, please, please heed my call"

And then he was gone, right in front of their eyes

And if I had not seen it, I'd say it's a lie

But jolly St Nick he was saddened by discord

He knew that this did not sit well with his Lord

While Dasher and Dancer, Prancer and Vixen,

Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen

Took to the sky with old Santa and sled

Those gathered around took to heart what he said

And at least for one evening they put down their swords

Replaced them with soft words and good wishes towards

All that had gathered on this hallowed ground

And throughout the chamber did these words resound

"Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night"

For one night this House a most beautiful sight

The Republican Response To Donald Trump Shooting Someone in Broad Daylight in Times Square

If there is one lesson to be learned from these impeachment proceedings it is that Donald Trump could do virtually anything and still be defended by the Republicans in Congress.

Just imagine the rhetoric if, as Mr. Trump once suggested, he shot someone in broad daylight in Times Square. Here are some of the responses one could expect from those within his party who swear to uphold and defend the Constitution of the United States.

"This is a clear case of protected free speech. A first amendment right to express his displeasure in any manner he deems appropriate. It is not like he shouted "Fire" in a theater."

"Look at it like a slip of the tongue, except with a gun. He thought he was shooting off his mouth but it was his finger."

"After all the wrongs he has committed, you decide that THIS is worthy of prosecution. He has done many worse things before, so leave the poor guy alone."

"People don't kill, guns do. And Donald Trump is not a gun. He is a loose cannon."

"If you had to deal with Mike Pence every day you would need to blow off some steam too."

"The guy ran in front of the bullet. I would charge him, if he survives with assault on the President's reputation."

"Ukraine was behind this vicious attack on our democracy."

"This was nothing but a blatant ploy by the Democrats to undo the 2016 election."

"It was Michael Cohen who pulled the trigger."

"It was Rudy Guiliani who pulled the trigger."

"This is less than a year from the election. The President can't commit murder now. The people cannot be deprived of their right to re-elect Donald Trump.The Democrats are the ones to blame here."

"It was Trudeau, with his wisecracks about the President, who is the real culprit."

"It was Hillary. Lock her up."

"The victim was an illegal immigrant. Case closed."

"If global warming is a hoax, just imagine what this is."

"If the President can kill our reputation that we have built over 250 years, what is the harm in shooting just one person? The President should be applauded for being able to scale down the damage he is capable of doing."

"Mr. Trump may be a weapon of mass destruction but he is not a killer."

"It was Dick Cheney who pulled the trigger."

As for Mr. Trump, he promised to provide his sworn deposition to Congress on this incident in the immediate future. Right after he releases his tax returns. And puts all his holdings in a blind trust. And announces that he lost the popular vote, fair and square, to Hillary. And admits that he is a covert agent working for the Russians.

Pizza Pies and French Fries

Having now conquered the art of walking, well maybe a more apt description would be wobbling followed quickly by stumbling, our intrepid hero is this morning shown on video with golf club in hand, a laser like focus on her target. That is until she tumbles forward on her face, uninjured but surely the living embodiment of unsteady. I fear she is in need of slightly more seasoning before the dance she performs can be officially labeled with a period rather than a question mark.

But she has little time to master this craft for ski season is nigh. And when that moment arrives she will be required to throw herself full force down a hill with little to turn gravity from mortal enemy to dear friend except for those now decidedly uncertain underpinnings.

Forget that she is still incorporating head, shoulders, knees and toes into her vocabulary. And that she is sometimes not clear of the distinction between mouth and teeth. The forecast for tomorrow is for a really big snowstorm. There is no time to waste.

So what if cold weather and wet diapers are a decidedly unhappy pairing. What import that nap time arrives right after the first chairlift opens. There are trails to be conquered, mountains to be tamed.

Since she would, by all measure, still be defined as a baby, the most logical starting place would be the baby hill. And yes, being just on the other side of one's first birthday might normally seem an impediment. But when someone can say moo, neigh, ruff ruff, oink oink, no more, all done and, with a little coaxing, something that sounds remarkably like alligator, how hard can it be to turn left and right on command with some foreign objects strapped to feet that have never really worn shoes, at least for their most basic undertaking? What kind of question is that even to ask?

OK, I admit I may be a little overzealous. Alright, more than a little. More like idiotic. If you insist, I will calm down. Yes, I promise.

And if I must, I will allow this young person to be what she actually is, an adorable bundle that I love without condition. And I will wait, patiently if so required, for the day when my fantasy becomes her reality. Until then I will just have to work on her putting, for the video showed she was lifting her head far too early.