As usual, I was awake in the wee hours. Listening to BBC World on the radio while munching sourdough toast with peanut butter, I noted the glee in the newsreaders' voices as they talked about The Donald. They delighted in playing clips of him delivering whatever bombast was the latest.
One reader called one ridiculous clip "the latest Clump of Trump."
I'm embarrassed to be American.
They called him out on his "fast and loose interpretations of the truth," such as his crowing about getting 46% of the Latino vote in Nevada. The called an American expert who said that first, it was a little premature to know a statistic like that, but more tellingly: "these were Republican voters. How many Republican Latino voters are in Nevada? Not very many, so it is a pretty meaningless statistic."
The BBC thinks we're crazy, and I'm not sure they're far off.
I wrote my daughter in Ukraine and told her that if Trump gets elected I'll bring them to live with me in Ecuador. No visa required. She respnded with "What will we do? Pick bananas?" I wrote back "And what is wrong with bananas?" She took me a little too seriously for a moment (always a mistake with the Rev) and replied that her and Yaroslav's professions required big cities, since they deal with the distribution of consumer products. I immediately responded asking her if she knew about banana spiders, which are as big as your hand, and cousins to tarantulas. "You could give each one you find a name," I wrote. "Every day!" I don't know if that will impress her. While she talks about chasing chickens on her grandmother's farm, I suspect she's a city girl at heart.
The Donald. What we did to deserve him? Maybe I will try to answer that, soon.