Can't Trump Arrogance Like This!

Even as a young man I enjoyed following political rhetoric. I truly enjoy teaching university students the fine art of politi-talk. I review constructs, follow candidates' themes and even write political speeches for various candidates during political seasons. I have learned, however, that as a seasoned political consumer, I can't handle sheer political arrogance. I like spirited debate; I follow issue-oriented dialogue and I applaud lively discussion in the market place of ideas. I cannot take elitist attitudes such as displayed by Donald Trump in the discussion of President Barak Obama's birth  certificate release.

Media should stop referring to Trump as a GOP candidate. No such title does he deserve. He has not been confirmed as a candidate and he doesn't act, speak or address issues like a candidate. He's a snake oil salesman. He's a gadget hawker.

Obama released the long debated birth certificate, Donald. Will Trump give it a rest. Not a chance! Now...why am I not surprised? Trump claims that he...Donald Trump said he and others (who?) are still going to have to assess the document's authenticity. We're "going to look at it. We have to see if it's real, if it's proper," he said today. I cannot imagine the audacity one must take to think that he will decide if it passes the smell test. I'm howling as I write this blog. When did Trump become the offical US birth certificate inspector?

Trump claims that Obama only released this certificate after he pressed the issue. Trump believes he drives the country. Trump said, "Today I am very proud of myself." We don't need Congress; we don't need the Supreme Court...thank God we have Donald Trump! (Tongue in cheek just so you don't misunderstand) Wait a minute...maybe we don't need God either. Does God confer with Trump before He acts? OK...I will stop now but you must understand I just am beside myself.

I have long admired political rhetoric fashioned, crafted and constructed with powerful imagery. I delight in well-worded discourse. I relish artful debate on pertinent issues. I decry this latest fiasco in political debauchery. Donald Trump needs someone else beside himself to guide his political forays. I've always heard that "as soon as someone declares himself/herself as a political candidate she/he loses 40 IQ points. Today I believe that assertion...at least in the case of Donald Trump. Donald Trump for president? God help us all. You just can't trump arrogance like this!

Shake Hands

Donald Trump has a big political problem. I mean it. One item I know about politics for certain: you have to shake hands. This seemingly simple cultural custom takes on new meaning when it comes to politics. The handshake rates right up there with kissing babies. A firm but careful handshake conveys politeness, conviction and friendship. This symbol of interpersonal connection provides all participants with the knowledge and assurance that the democratic process continues. The handshake puts on an equal status. http://www.junkworthknowing.com/history/origins_of_the_handshake

Now the problem with Donald Trump? He detests the handshake. He doesn't want to dirty his hands, catch a disease, or join the ranks of the folk. We shake hands. Sure, I've seen politicians use hand cleaner after numerous handshakes but they follow the protocol and shake the hands of those who plan to vote. Donald will have to change his mind about this doctrine too, if he wants to be President. Shaking a voter's hand is a critical political necessity. http://www.canada.com/ottawacitizen/news/story.html?id=da986cc6-370e-44db-a840-7aa67066b6a0

The handshake stands as one of the most important symbols of our modern political culture. If his intentions are in earnest, Donald Trump will have to lower himself to participate in this longstanding custom: shaking the hands of those he wishes to serve. We won't bow down three feet in front of him to kiss his ring. He will have to shake our hands. http://soc302.tripod.com/soc_302rocks/id8.html

The Snap of His Fingers

I would here him snap his fingers. He always awakened me the same way. On Easter mornings he'd wake me early...even before the sunlight first filtered through the trees and meadows of Southern Indiana. The Easter mornings were special to both of us. On this day...on this special morning...he would take me to Sunrise Service which consisted of worship, friends and a big Indiana breakfast complete with pancakes, bacon, eggs, coffee and homemade maple syrup.

In the weeks before, we'd prepare for this special morning. He'd take me into Brownstown or Seymour and help me find a jacket, slacks, shirt and tie. Sometimes I'd get new shoes too! We'd select spring colors like light greens, subtle yellows or soft blues. I must say he had an eye for style. He taught me how to tie a suitable knot. He directed me on how to keep the press in my slacks when you cross your legs in the pew. This entire prospect became a significant family, social and faith appointment. We planned to meet the Master on an early morning moment in a community church building where life thrives close to the earth.

My father knew people. He'd guide the car through the winding roads toward the church building navigating carefully through the darkness. He said little, mostly focused on the road ahead while I sat next to him in the front seat. This became an annual Easter tradition for the two of us. I do not know to this day why Mother didn't go...or my two brothers. Some moments of the past seem to have no explanation. I just know that I cherished those quiet moments and prized them as all mine. My dad remained my hero throughout my life. After he died, he became my spiritual guide. I love him still.

We'd arrive at the prescribed destination...he seemed to select a different service site every year...and we'd enter the building together. I recall the sweet fragrance of varnished pews, thick aroma of song books and Bibles and the ever present smells of bacon, coffee and sausage. What sweet delights awaited on any given Easter Sunday!

First, however, we must participate in the worship. The songs resounded through the auditorium. Light touches of tenors rang high above the low tones of the bass singers. Sopranos reached incredible high notes while baritones and leads kept the song recognizable for those of us who had little musical talent. It seemed to me that on those sacred mornings, Jesus quietly moved into the building to enjoy and observe the proceedings. I could imagine thousands of Angels looking in on us from above. We met with the Master on those precious early mornings.

Ah...but I must admit that the smell of that breakfast held constant allure. Suddenly the singing and sermon ended and we headed downstairs to the basement where the breakfast traditionally commenced. My Dad knew how to maneuver in order to be first in line. In most other times of his life he would help others, put others first or assist people to do what they needed to do. But on this morning...on this very special day...he guided me up to the front of the line with some sort of mysterious power. He blazed the trail toward the front like an explorer on a urgent quest. He laughed, joked, spoke to friends, slapped people on the back, called out to acquaintances and made loud comments of joy, celebration and happiness. He had a winning smile. I loved him then...I love him now. These times we spent together mean more to me than I can write in words. My heart soared to be by his side, to be important to him and to be his friend. In those moments...on those mornings...I felt honored to be his friend.

I've come to believe that fathers image the love, power and strength of God for their children. On those Easter Sundays I found the complete package with my father. He awakened me for the day to come, guided me through the darkness to the appointed place, taught me how to prepare for worship, displayed true humility and faith, and then lead me to the celebration of resurrection and life. The experience began with the click of his fingers.

On this Easter Day, once again I heard the click of his fingers. I've softly sung the hymns of the past, quietly listened to the voices of Angels and witnessed another Resurrection Day. Where's Dad? Living within my heart and mind. Where's Jesus? Same place. That's how I got here today...family and faith eternally linked in this journey that I began years ago wearing a light green jacket, black shoes, cream colored slacks and a dark green tie. No matter what you're wearing, let's gather now at the feast table of faith, family, friends to celebrate a faithful future. Do you hear that? He's snapping his fingers.

Shut Down the Government?

So...let's say you get a new job. Your superiors hire you to manage a great number of people, get them together to pass policies and craft procedures. They pay you well and take care of your benefits too. You have a nice package. So, in a difficult day of negotiations and talk you get your coworkers together and decide to just shut the whole company down. You're going to close the operations until everyone agrees with you no matter what. You know that will be OK with you because your contract guarantees you'll get paid no matter what you do. No one else will get paid but you are sure to get your money.

Sound weird? Sure sounds down right unethical to me. So here's a message to all of my congress members and senators. We didn't hire you to shut down the government. We hired you to solve problems, suggest solutions and make our government work for us. How do you get shutting the government down works for anyone? Give me a break.

And please don't tell me how hard you work! Steel workers, railroad workers, truck drivers, construction workers, mothers, teachers...these people work. We pay you to go into a nice office, walk to the capital building and create regulations, laws and legislate success and prosperity for all of the workers. Just get together and do this...stop with the whining and complaints. Don't close the doors...open them up!

Trump the President?

Please. I know that we enjoy a good laugh but surely we can't be serious...Donald Trump for president? Picture this will you? We turn on the television, wait for the President's speech and...that hair appears in the Oval Office. Come on...David Letterman would never run out of material.

Mike Huckabee...yes I can see that. He's had experience as a governor. But Trump? I think I'll pass. Please...let's look deeper for values, experience and some dignity.