Decades ago, my doctor told me that world war, famine,
pestilence, stock market losses, and company politics wouldn’t cause my heart
attack.
It would be a broken shoelace.
As a precaution, I’ve been wearing slip-ons for years. It
isn’t enough.
What set me off the other morning were pictures of the Oval Office.
Somebody on Facebook showed pictures of the President’s office from previous administrations. Each president gets to redecorate the famous room. New furniture is brought in. Old pictures come out of storage. The occasional bust or two on shelves. Maybe a new rug with the Seal on it. Things change, but the room remains the same: refined yet majestic, understated but powerful.
Then they showed a picture of today’s Oval.
A shoelace broke…
It is a metaphor for the administration. Disrespect for our institutions. Disregard for the rule of law. Narcissism run amok. Cheap golden stuff on walls. The Oval turned into a TV set.
Money masquerading as class.
Why?
Millions accepted the call of a different man, with a self-built narcissistic approach to life, who, truth be told, was able to gather and bale the wants and fears of those who felt left out by the educated elites and corporate giants.
For generations, they were told that higher education was the secret to a better life. But many could not afford it, meet the requirements, or wanted it. Those who did gathered in urban areas to work in high-tech or high-level professions, making economic decisions unaware of, or unconcerned about, those outside their circles; even the communities they left, small towns devastated by job loss, store closings, and encroaching poverty.
A pandemic increased frustrations, restricted life, smashed relationships, reduced incomes, lowered educational opportunities, and changed a way of life. Public health became a political piñata. Who to believe? Many thought it was too much for too little gain. They felt the pain.
And somewhere a shoelace breaks.
Many got what they wanted. Few expected everything that followed. The first term was prologue. But the second…
Bravado was appealing. Why sign on for more of the same? Why sign on to more culture bending? Let’s try something different. What do you have to lose? A lot, it seems.
War without strategy. Armaments depleted with no replenishment plan. Corruption that would make Nixon blush and Harding flush. Rule by executive order. Laws ignored. Buildings torn asunder. Citizens arrested on the streets because of their looks. People deported to countries they have never set foot in. Democracy itself shattered—anguished drama in four acts.
Two more years before the curtain falls.
A mid-term election looms. Too close to call, maybe? Does the majority want more of the same or a return to regular order: three equal branches of government working together to form the more perfect union? A return to the rule of law? Expanded voting opportunity rather than restricted participation?
The nation, like the Oval, needs a redo. A return to when a simple office reflected a simple way of life yet was the seat of world order and massive innovation, not a daily pop-up TV show. A dream for everyone who chose a path to happiness. A return, perhaps, to when officials remembered that they took an oath to preserve and protect the Constitution. To when the presidency was a hallowed position dedicated to executing the laws, not trying to make them.
One man was able to reduce the power and prestige of the world’s strongest and freest nation in such a short time. It’s scary. That one doesn’t see the historic majesty of the Oval Office is frightening as well. Some things are better left alone. Some things are sacred.
Shoelaces are expensive. Probably imported with a tariff. Snap!
