The TV blares ads for irritated skin, indigestion, and sixty thousand dollar Porsches. Harry and Maude, however, sit on the couch locked in argument.

Targeting Harry in the crosshairs of her glare, Maude shouts, “Trump is not Gatsby. Trump is a decent man trying to save this country from liberals like you.”

“Nonsense,” Harry replies. “He’s an obsessive monomaniac.”

“Monomaniac?” Maude replies. “What’s that?”

“It’s a zombie with a brain so small it can hold only one thought,” says Harry. “He gets focused on one thing, and nothing can get him off it.”

“Focused on what? He’s trying to make America great again.”

“Like focused on Hillary Clinton. ‘Crooked Hillary’ he repeats as if he’s perseverating. Good grief, he won the election. She lost. She’s left the field, there’s nothing to taunt. But he rants about her as if she’s about to rise like some draculean phoenix and scorch the hair off his orange head.”

“Well, that’s a mouthful,” says Maude.

“And his obsession with the wall,” Harry continues.

“What about the wall? There are caravans of immigrants on the march toward our southern border. They must be stopped. The wall will do it. Make the border secure.”

“I still say he’s Gatsby. Gatsby fell in love with Daisy when they were younger, and he never got her out of his head. So he buys a mansion on Long Island across the bay from her house, and lures her to his parties so he can get her away from her husband, Tom. Gatsby’s blind, deaf and dumb. There’s nothing else in his life.”

“And you say Trump is that? I say you know nothing about Trump. Gatsby. You’re crazy.”

“Not obsessed crazy like the President. He promised the wall, OK. But he also promised that Mexico would pay for it. What ever happened to that, dear Maude? Why doesn’t he obsess about Mexico paying for it? You’re going to pay for it. I’m going to pay for it. We’re all going to pay for it.”

“The point is that we need the wall. However we can get it.”

“You’re as obsessive as Trump. The wall. The wall. You’re proving that he’s monomaniacal. As consumed with it as Gatsby was with Daisy. Of course we know why he keeps pounding the wall.”

“You’re so smart. Why?”

“Because the wall will keep brown people from entering the country. The wall throws red meat into the jaws of his ravenous base.”

“Whoa,” Harry. “Way overboard. Racism’s got nothing to do with the wall. It’s security he wants.”

“Then why doesn’t he obsess about infrastructure?”

“Infrastructure?” Maude replies. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“It also was one of the President’s campaign promises. Equal with the wall. But there’s no juice in infrastructure, because there’s no bone for the pit bull base.”

“What does that mean?”

“Infrastructure doesn’t get David Duke or Richard Spencer lighting up their tiki torches. But the wall does.”

“Harry, you’re nuts. Just plain nuts.”

“Thanks, Maude. I love you, too.”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Subscribe to our Newsletter

* indicates required
Copyright © Bruce Blackie
back to top
linkedin facebook pinterest youtube rss twitter instagram facebook-blank rss-blank linkedin-blank pinterest youtube twitter instagram