I’ll begin, as I sometimes usually but don’t always do, with a scathing quote from a dead person unable to react or retract: “Any American who is prepared to run for president should automatically by definition be disqualified from ever doing so.” The self-proclaimed QUEER satirist Gore Vidal left us with that novel zinger. If that were true, who would govern? Someone unprepared? Doesn’t that qualify all of us?
So like a Millennial I caught clips of the Clinton vs. Trump debate on Facebook on my iPhone (not a new one yet) in bed at 1:30 a.m. Nothing new to report. Maybe today after I’m done paying the rent (working!) I’ll go to Hillary’s website to find out how to defeat ISIL (that’s deliberately misspelling ISIS like Obama to get all the Fox “News” folks all fired up in their outrage). The headlines today expound on how “she” got “him” to take the bait and “react” which is the “worst” thing anyone in a debate can do. “But wait!” Trump was Trump, a bombastic guy from Queens with a few inherited bucks in his designer pocket mingling with tax loopholes and the keys to a rented (leased) gold-plated Bugatti. Hillary had that evil Dr. Sinister smile ready at a moment’s notice armed with FACTS FACTS FACTS as they are interpreted by whoever made them up. The ratings numbers were rivaled only by The Superbowl and Who Shot JR. As I claim to be nonpartisan (erudite way of saying I give less than zero f*cks) I found myself riveted by the game these two were playing. And make no mistake, Heather, it is a game. From what I saw Hillary won the game. Next phase: a Zoolander-like walk-off. He/She who emerges victorious from that goes on to redecorate the oval office with fifty different shades of red tape. Games, silly rabbit, were made for kids. And that’s all we all are. No one ever really grows up that much. Paying bills and solving problems doesn’t make one a grownup. The true test of adulthood is letting go of what doesn’t work and accepting what does regardless of made-up facts. You can go your own way outside of the box. BUT WAIT. Yeah, backing up my statistics. Good luck with that.
Over this past weekend I had to go to Vermont for some business of an organic nature. I hadn’t been to Vermont since I was 10 when we rented a house there for a summer. Vermont is lush and unspoiled and vast and green, the complete opposite of Manhattan. Once there my traveling companion and I stopped into Bennington College so’s I could buy some t-shirts and sweaters in the book store and take a few pics for my Gram. Thirty years ago when I was a senior in high school I had several goals in my young mind; one of them was getting into Bennington like my at-the-time icon Bret Easton Ellis (why? why not?). I never got into Bennington but this weekend I felt the need to go see the campus with my own eyes and dreamily wander down the lackluster road of what-if’s. Whilst strolling the campus I kept my eyeglasses on to appear smart. The kids were all of the rich hippy variety as I would imagine they were back in 1986 when I would have been there in my tweed jacket smoking cloves and listening to the Smiths in my black GTI with tinted windows and esoteric bumper stickers. Lots and lots and lots of Subaru’s. I felt a twinge of longing as we drove away, about how different my life would have been had I been able to go to Bennington. Nothing really wrong with escaping into revisionist history, especially when the regrets at this point are too few to mention. Love Vermont.
I sent off my latest manuscript to some discerning critics with an iron-clad pride in my words. Who knows if I will be a published author like Bret or Jay or any of those types of guys. It’s late in the game but never too late as all the inspirational memes seem to tell me. I do find solace from the war zone of Manhattan (sidewalks only) in my words. Everyone must have something or else we all have nothing.
I’ll end with a quote from Gore Vidal’s Myra Breckinridge after Myron becomes Myra (right, she’s a transsexual): “All you men have a lot to learn. And I have taken it upon myself to teach you.” See, like Tony Montana said, all it takes is your word and your balls, even if you only have your word. Tell it like it is and at least fifty percent of registered voters will believe you according to a poll I just made up. Last night I dreamt of a debate between Gore Vidal and Truman Capote which ended in some bitch-slapping and backhanded verbal assaults. Wait, sounds like the Clinton vs. Trump debate from last eve. See, everyone’s just a bitchy queen ready to throw shade. #loveyourhair #hopeyouwin