Dear Dad: Making Sense of Making It Great

Dear Dad:

It has been over a year and a half since I wrote my last letter. Mostly because I have been insanely busy. It seems like everyone lives practically spinning in their own sets of responsibilities and irresponsibilities. We have also been preoccupied with one of the craziest fights in American history. As I sat back, apathetic to politics and the people who run for any political office, a butt load of ego maniacs thought they were best suited to become our next president.

You know this best. We talked about it often and struggled with what was happening. To be honest, I was not on team Hillary at first. Before the landscape became narrowed down, I was curious who all of these people were vying for my vote. I don’t vote straight democrat or republican any more. That’s because there are so many folks on both parties that I either relate to and stand behind what they stand for. But then the unthinkable thing happened. A grown, successful, prominent celebrity started to let the entire thing get to his head.

I am the first to admit, I was a huge Donald Trump fan. When he was on Howard Stern, I would laugh. When he wrote books, I often read them. And when he started The Apprentice, I was secretly hoping that one day I would compete and win the show. So when he first announced he candidacy, like most, I never took it serious. But he grew into a beast, appealing to people who were buying his crap. It was crap. Never once did I learn about positive things he wanted to do for me or the country that would make us “great again”. P.s. we are great now and hopefully will stay great.

The words. The painful words that each time I heard them I cringed. Calling people crooked, little, liar, ugly, and on and on. Making fun of disabled, questioning the military, threatening to jail someone, wanting to build a wall to try to keep people out that will find a way back in, claiming the media was corrupt, allowing the KKK newspaper and its leaders to endorse you, threatening to kick hundreds of thousands out of USA, insulting presidents and other political and important leaders, saying Saturday Night Live was boring, and worst of all confessing that you can grab a girl’s pXXXX because you were famous. I would never hire someone with these qualifications, would never date someone like this, and would never, never, never vote for someone like this to run my business let alone the place I live.

Our country deserves better.

Hillary did have to grow on me. I was a little sceptical after the email scandal, and some of the decisions she made in various offices. But time and time again, she apologized and proved that she was human, made mistakes, and would learn from it. It is one thing to make a mistake, and apologize but Donald never seemed to care if what he said or did hurt people. He laughed and let his followers roar in hate. The monster grew and grew.

And don’t kid. There are a lot of men that do not want a woman to run the country. I have family members I believe would say this to be true. They were scared of it, and that is sad. It takes an incredibly tough, thick-skinned person to run, and a lot of women just would not want to be in that role or even fight for that role. I hope there are more women like Hillary motivated to do what it takes to ever be able to run for that kind of office. But I could not help but feel I might not ever see that again in my lifetime.

So the beast won. Hate won. Calling names won. Bullying won. Prejudice won. Grabbing pXXXX won. It is sad, scary, and damn right a shame.

Now I struggle. A big part of me wants to run like hell. Tortola here we come! But that is not realistic. I love where I live, love what I do, love who I do it with.

I also want to join the protestors and yell “not my president” as loud as I can. But I would be a sore loser and it will not change anything but most likely will make the “beast” more irate. Remember, he has a list of enemies to “get back at”.

I want to unfriend so many on Facebook, and have hidden quite a few. I have lost some respect for people I know who voted for him proudly, and everywhere I go, wonder “is that a Trump supporter because they seem so happy right now.”

But I can’t. You taught me better. When you lost your elections, you always gracefully moved on. You never gave up and often decided to run again. You finally did win, and you won again. You were friends with democrats, republicans, and everything in between. Thanks for showing me how to be a gracious loser.

Then there is my big philosophy that everyone, even my enemies, has something good about them. They might be greedy, hateful, and rude, but they still have SOMETHING good about them. The last few days, I have had to remind myself of the time I liked Trump. I know deep inside there is a good person and he has built an incredible, though questionable, corporation. I am willing to give it a chance, willing to move on from the pain I feel over the loss from the election.

Riley read me Oh the Places You Will Go to me randomly this morning and this passage really stuck. Hope it helps you in the strange way it did for me:

I’m sorry to say so

but, sadly, it’s true

that Bang-ups

and Hang-ups

can happen to you.

 

You can get all hung up

in a prickle-ly perch.

And your gang will fly on.

You’ll be left in a Lurch.
You’ll come down from the Lurch

with an unpleasant bump.

And the chances are, then,

that you’ll be in a Slump.

 

And when you’re in a Slump,

you’re not in for much fun.

Un-slumping yourself

is not easily done.

 

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.

Some windows are lighted. But mostly they’re darked.

A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin!

Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?

How much can you lose? How much can you win?

 

And IF you go in, should you turn left or right…

or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?

Or go around back and sneak in from behind?

Simple it’s not, I’m afraid you will find,

for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

 

You can get so confused

that you’ll start in to race

down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace

and grind on for miles cross weirdish wild space,

headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.

The Waiting Place…

 

…for people just waiting.

Waiting for a train to go

or a bus to come, or a plane to go

or the mail to come, or the rain to go

or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow

or the waiting around for a Yes or No

or waiting for their hair to grow.

Everyone is just waiting.

 

Waiting for the fish to bite

or waiting for the wind to fly a kite

or waiting around for Friday night

or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake

or a pot to boil, or a Better Break

or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants

or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.

Everyone is just waiting.

 

NO!

That’s not for you!

 

Somehow you’ll escape

all that waiting and staying

You’ll find the bright places

where Boom Bands are playing.

 

With banner flip-flapping,

once more you’ll ride high!

Ready for anything under the sky.

Ready because you’re that kind of a guy!

 

Oh, the places you’ll go! There is fun to be done!

There are points to be scored. There are games to be won.

And the magical things you can do with that ball

will make you the winning-est winner of all.

Fame! You’ll be as famous as famous can be,

with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.

 

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