We live in a football nation.
And, in large measure, there's the problem.
Hold that thought. And huddle up.
The challenge in presenting any fair and reasonable critique of the job performance of the current, for the moment, President of the United States is that, given the chapped cheeks that have resulted from two years, now, worth of chapping, much like a marriage that has been fatally wounded with no real chance of survival yet simply refuses to lay down and die, both sides hang on like grim death to their positions, everything one side does is always right and everything the other side does is always wrong.
Which side is which makes no difference. The view is the same from either and both.
Complete agreement is out of the question. Any hint of compromise and/or cooperation is a ship that has long since sailed. And wiggle room is physically impossible in a situation where no one is going to budge an inch.
So, when the cauldron of bicker and bitch bubbles up and over each week, or hour, or day, you say potato and I say patahto, I say tomato and you say tomahto, you say deliverer, I say demagogue...
..potato, patahto, deliverer, demagogue.....let's call the whole thing off.
Yeah. If only.
Point being that point by point back and forth is a waste of time, breath and brain tissue.
So, let's skip the bullet points (no, that is not a snarky, veiled reference to the precedent shattering sucking up to the NRA and their campaign contribution kabillions).
You know, those perfectly plausible reasons for ratcheting up the rumbling between us.
You say booming economy. We say the, now, repeated plunging of the Dow, with all, count them, all, of the gains made this past year gone. All. The whole year. Gone. And, at the moment, no end in sight.
You say right to bear arms. We say, well, wow, pick a shooting, any shooting. Take your best shot. (Yeah, okay, that's a snarky, not so veiled, reference)
You say thank God America finally has a brilliant, successful businessman at the wheel. We say, uh, okay, let's not rehash that Dow thing we just mentioned, let's run with sending troops to the border to guard against the caravan that was a dangerous and evil invasion of plunderers, rapists and murderers right up to election day, then kinda faded back into a caravan again after election day and, at this moment, is still nowhere near the border...and the cost, so far?.....about 75 million. With projected eventual cost being..oh, about 200 million.
And let's don't even get started on sending troops away from their families at holiday time for no better reason than playing to the crowd or as it's listed in your cast of characters, there, the base.
And let's not even begin to hint at dredging up the failed university or the failed steak company or the failed vodka company or the failed hotels and casinos and how, on God's green Earth, does anybody fail at casinos?
And forget Maude.....then there's Mueller.
But, like I said, bashing those birdies back and forth is an endless loop in space/time that would make for a pretty cool episode of Star Trek-Discovery. Hell, maybe even a two-parter. Hmm. Movie, maybe?
So, instead, let's take a pot shot at being practical here.
And just talk a little "it is what it is"
Regardless of who, or what, is, at any given time, sitting behind that fine burnished dark wood desk in that uniquely circular office in that iconic white building at 1600 Pennsylvania.
Here's what it is.
We are a football nation.
From Friday night lights to Saturday college play calling to Sunday slants, sacks, split T's and shotguns.
With a Monday night here and a Thursday night there, here a punt, there a snap, everywhere a screen pass.
America has got football in places most people ain't even got places.
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
But, to borrow a tiny piece from the massive jigsaw puzzle that is Beatles lyrics...
..."here's another clue for you all..."
This is not a football world.
At least in terms of the geopolitical.
And, there, all you Hamlet fans and fanettes, lies the rub.
Keep in mind, amigos y amigas, I ain't lying, kids/ there ain't no denyin' that this would be a fact/truth, if the president was FDR, JFK, LBJ, George H.W., George W, Donald Trump or Donald Duck.
Just so happens that, at the moment, Donald is in the chair.
Trump, not Duck. Although I will concede that it is often hard to tell one cartoon character from another.
Here's the thing.
One of the immediate go-to defenses of the Red Capped Donald, Donald, He's Our Man Club when it comes to the stockpile of shit that Trump has either gotten America into or is apparently bound and determined to get America into is his "knack", for lack of a better word, for "telling it like it is"
For the more metaphorically minded amongst us, make that "why bother using a scalpel with precision or a finely aimed laser when a sledge hammer will do."
Well, first, there is the reasonable argument that there's a critically important difference between that which "will do" and that which is "called for."
If we're talking bringing down the barn, then, by all means, let's get our sledge on.
If, on the other hand, we're talking aortic valve replacement, the hammer might just be a little heavy handed.
And this "telling it like it is" quality, again, their words, not even close to mine, which served him so well in the campaign, has been adapted for after the swearing-in usage and presents itself as "kicking some ass" in various and sundry tweets, public grunts and posturing proclamations at the every now and then, lately more often than not, love and praise gatherings, hilariously referred to as campaign rallies.
A lot of people seem to buy the idea that leadership, especially the leadership of the, still, theoretically, anyway, most powerful nation on Earth is defined as blunt talk, blowharding and bullying.
For all his many failings, three skills at which Donald admittedly excels.
If you think about it for a minute, that's exactly the same kind of behavior that, in an altered and adjusted form, wins football games.
Blunt talk at the line of scrimmage. Blow hard taunts as opposing players crouch nose to nose waiting for the snap, a bullying, of sorts, because, let's face facts, sports fans, they ain't exchangin' cookie recipes down there. Hut. Hut. Hut. Hard snap. Quarterback drops back. Cocks his arm back to fire a rifle shot on a quick out. Hard hits at the line. QB looking downfield. Wham. Sacked.
Take that, Eagles. Or Saints. Or Raiders.
Or North Korea.
Or Germany. Or France. Or Canada.
We don't play pussy ball around here, boys and girls, we hit hard, low, mean, take no shit and take no prisoners.
Well, there's Saudi Arabia, but there's a lot of money changing hands on that one, so, come on, be real.
And a lot of Americans who believe football is one of life's essential vitamins and minerals admire, no, hell, worship a guy who hits low, hits dirty, talks tough, takes no shit...takes no prisoners.
Yeah. About that.
From the folder marked "things that should go without saying, but that's not a luxury we can afford to allow ourselves these days", here's a couple of those things.
First, simple human physics. Nobody likes to be pushed. Or shoved. Nobody likes to have somebody or anybody get up in their face. Especially when it's clear as crystal that the only reason that somebody is getting up in their face is to show other people how tough they are because, "hey, look how I'm getting up in their face."
That approach is classic, textbook....bullying.
Here's another one of those things that should go without saying.
Bullies never win. And, sooner or later, as sure as the setting of the sun or the ebbing of the tide, one somebody who has simply had enough of another somebody getting in their face knocks that somebody on their ass.
Even the dumbest, all neck, no brain matter football lineman knows that.
That's why even football isn't all, and only, about kicking ass and taking names.
Psst. That laminated thing the coaches are pacing back and forth with all through the game? That they keep checking and rechecking? It's a menu of something called "plays". Here's a big word that describes what they're used for.
Strategy.
Not to confuse the issue by injecting another sport into the mix, but, the humorist Gallagher once offered up "....even boxing isn't only about punching and counter punching....sometimes, for a few minutes, at regular intervals, it's about sitting quietly in a corner....thinking things over..."
Those who have bought (read: been conned) into celebrating the tough talk, tell like it is style that Trump likes to take credit for inventing (along with, well, pretty much everything else in life, except for the Internet, Al Gore is still holding on to that one like grim death) have overlooked a very important undeniable in the whole grand scheme of life in America in relation to the global realities in the year 2018.
Leadership, as it must, by circumstance and necessity, be practiced here in the early 21st Century, most certainly requires the ability to size up an opponent, exude an air of confidence, show no visible weakness, determine an enemy's vulnerabilities, be prepared at all times to confront a threat and, when, the moment is right, and needed, strike swiftly and surely with the intention of thwarting any attack and putting an end to the confrontation.
Sounds a lot like football, don't you think?
Yeah. Except there's that people don't like you getting up in their faces thing. It just seems to piss em' off. And Lord only knows what somebody is capable of doing when they're pissed off.
That's not really doing a very good job of controlling your enemy. Or the situation.
Not a very good strategy at all.
Even the dumbest, all neck, no brain matter football lineman knows that.
Hey. You know what this all really sounds like?
Yeah.
Chess.
We live in a football nation.
And there's a guy with the limo and the Secret Service detail and podium with that really cool seal on it who you just gotta know fashions himself as the best, just terrific, the most terrific quarterback that ever lived. Better than Namath or Staubach....or Brady...or Brees.
Just one problem.
We live in a football nation.
But we live in a chess world.
And there's a guy with the limo and the Secret Service detail and podium with that really cool seal on it who naively, foolishly....stupidly.....thinks getting up in people's faces is the best, terrific, most teriffic way to win.
But wouldn't know a gambit, a pawn, a stalemate....or a strategy if his life, or the life of a nation, depended on it.
Sooner or later, as sure as the setting of the sun or the ebbing of the tide, one somebody who has simply had enough of another somebody getting in their face knocks that somebody, or that "king"... on their ass.
Checkmate.
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