The Political Life - Follow-Up

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The Age of Trump : What's Next

On the eve of another decade, I find myself, surprisingly, more hopeful than I've been in a long time: maybe all the way back to Obama's victory in 2009. Despite the horrific things happening in our country, almost all with the support and urging of Trump and the Republican Party, when I sit back and take stock, and review history, I'm almost certain that not only will we get through this, but we will come out and enter a new golden age for the United States. It's not over. We're not doomed. We haven't lost. Greed, white supremacy, lies and hatred will not prevail. Will it be easy? No, and it never has been. Will Trump go quietly and gracefully, whether in 2020 or 2024 (or whenever)? No. He will likely fuel hatred and violence as he's done throughout his term, and really, his life. But ultimately, he will lose. As will McConnell, Graham, McCarthy and those hanging onto a past that really only exists in their venom. Sure, they've taped up and clung to an ...
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Similar to the New York Yankees, I didn't have much of a choice here. In my pre-teen years, I'd spend every-other-weekend, or sometimes, every-so-often, at my father's house a few towns over in Jersey. In the late 70s/early 80s, my father was obsessed with Springsteen. Sure, he mixed it up with some Bob Seger, Dylan, Jackson Browne and other songwriters of the day, but his love for Bruce was on a different plane. I remember our living room walls being blanketed with framed Springsteen memorabilia. And he was always, always playing throughout the house. All those early records. My dad had a lot of parties during this period, and I recall The River being on until all hours of the night. Then Born to Run would find its way, and of course, when Bruce became the biggest act in the world, with the summer 1984 release of Born in the USA, that record was played over and over and over. When that tour kicked in, and Bruce loaded up on Jersey dates, I begged to go. I'd only be...
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