Blog Archives

Day 654

11/11/2018

WHAT'S IT TAKE TO ENJOY A "NORMAL" DAY? MAYBE IT'S A MATTER OF WHO'S OUT OF THE PICTURE

WE SHOULD TELL you about how we’ve been spending the day.
   It’s Sunday, Veterans Day AND the birthday of Our Humans’ granddaughter, whom Phoebe and Cat are crazy about because she is consistently nice to us, and, in fact, a delight to the whole world.
   The only downside of being so smitten is that she lives 3,316 miles away in London, so that we don’t get to see her that often.
    But we do talk to her a lot, usually over the Skype internet service, which we do today, given it’s her birthday. And yes, we do take into account the time difference so as not to wake her up in the middle of what otherwise would be early the next morning and no longer her birthday. We may be what some consider “just pets,” but we can tell time.
   Anyway, that’s one major thing we do today, and here’s the rest.
   Understandably, you might ask: “Why should I care how Cat and Phoebe spend their Sundays?”
   The answer: Be patient....

WE ALL GET UP about 7 a.m., except for Cat, who is only “active” for about 1 hour out of the 24 hours each day and therefore, he typically “sleeps in.”
   The Grouchy One takes Phoebe “out” to the backyard, which for privacy reasons, we won’t go into in detail. Upon returning to the house, Phoebe gets a MilkBone treat.
   Cat now is in the kitchen, because Phoebe often gets a treat just for the amazing feat of returning to the house, and Cat has convinced the Humans that whenever Phoebe gets a treat, he should, too. (Humans are so gullible).
   After breakfast, the Grouchy One and Phoebe take their regular morning walk to a nearby park, and Cat sacks out on the living room couch.
   The Nice One devotes her morning at the kitchen table, working on what the Humans call “the bills,” an activity that neither Cat nor Phoebe understand, except that they know that the bills must be “paid,” a process widely viewed as too important to be entrusted to the Grouchy One.
   It being Veterans Day, Grouchy hangs an American flag on the front porch.
   In the early afternoon, Grouchy and Phoebe go for another walk, to a different park. We are very fortunate in that the Humans live near lots of parks, as well as a college campus, which makes for some decent places for Phoebe to explore.

FOR HIS OUTDOOR activity, Cat pretty much sticks to the back deck, although less so as the temperatures go down in late fall. On this particular Sunday, Cat’s “activity” consists of moving from the couch, where he’s been sleeping, to the top of a chair next the couch, where he continues sleeping.
On her return, Phoebe reports it is a great day for a walk. Brilliant sunshine; some trees still have their leaves in full fall color. But there also are tons of leaves that have dropped to the ground, some blown into large piles by brisk winds. Phoebe tries to spend an appropriate amount of time sniffing out each pile.
This park happens to have a volleyball net, with lots of clean sand in the players’ area. Phoebe goes bonkers, digging furiously in sand with her front paws, making multiple shallow holes. She cannot explain the thrilling compulsion to dig. Just that it’s an expression of joy.

ON THE WAY HOME, Phoebe and Cat see someone about to get into a small blue car. But seeing Phoebe, the lady walks over to pat Phoebe on the head, saying “What a sweet dog.” This happens a lot, but Phoebe says it never grows old.
   A little later, a very cute and petite Golden Retriever named “Princess” comes out of her house with her guardian Human, and Phoebe and Princess chat briefly before going their separate ways.
    Finally back home, it's getting dark, and the Grouchy One takes the American flag from it holder on the front porch, rolls it up and brings it into the house.
   Phoebe goes to the sunporch, where she pretty much has exclusive use of an entire couch, which the Humans usually avoid, because, for some reason, when they get up, they’re covered with dog hair.

THE NICE ONE, now finished with the “bills,” is taking a nap on the living room couch, wrapped in a cozy blanket.
    Cat, in a major maneuver, gets off the chair, lumbers onto the couch, and curls up on the blanket. Later, Cat throws up on the blanket. Nobody gets mad at Cat, beyond initial expressions of “Oh, no!” because it’s pretty much accepted that, periodically, Cat throws up. The Grouchy One collects the blanket and puts it through the washing machine and dryer.
   That’s about it. A nice, leisurely Sunday, with excellent weather; with time well spent in a place where there’s enough to eat; with a washing machine in the cellar when something needs washing right away; where some shallow holes have been dug in the sand; a call has been made to loved one far away; and where the flag has been put out on Veterans Day.

BY NOW, YOU ARE asking yourself: “What’s missing, here?”
   The answer should be obvious: this has been one of those rare days in which the President of the United States has been largely out of mind.
   And it’s been great. We haven’t awoken in terror of learning what insults, threats and lies he’s unleashed overnight via the Tweetersphere; we’ve gone through an entire day without freaking out about what he’s just said or done; we’re expecting to fall asleep without being terrified by what new horrors we’ll wake up to in the morning.
   In other words, we’ve just experienced what it’s like to live in an America where a president isn’t a sadist, a liar, a bigot and a bully.
   We’re not recommending that we and everyone else boycott the news or play ostrich, pretending that this isn’t a dangerous time in the country’s history.
    By surely our day is an example of what a “normal” day could be in America; a reminder that in a democracy, it’s up to all of us to make sure that our country is a place where “normal” isn't all that unusual.

Day 650

11/7/2018

WE WON!

THEY'RE OVER, at last, the midterm elections of 2018 are over. Good riddance. The suspense was getting to us. But now we know.
   We won!
   No, the fight for America’s soul isn’t over. It never has been; never will be; ours is an imperfect country. And yesterday, The Dark Side did make some headway.
   But here at On Trump’s Trail, Phoebe and Cat are in agreement on the main point.
   WE WON!
   Control of the House of Representatives is now in Democratic hands. It means that just like the country’s Founders had envisioned, there is now a semblance of balance to our Constitutional democracy.

YESTERDAY, THERE WAS NO effective check on the power of the president. Today, there is.
   And if you doubt the importance of that, how helpless would you be feeling about Trump’s firing of Attorney General Jeff Sessions, were not the Democrats about to take charge of the House, in a position to investigate what happens to the special counsel’s investigation into Russian interference in 2016 election that brought Trump to the White House?
   Just as important, the election demonstrated that Donald Trump’s attempt to poison the country’s character with his aberrant witch’s brew of hatred, fear and bigotry hasn’t worked. If you are a liberal, and a progressive, as are this dog and this cat, just imagine how you’d have felt waking up this morning if the House had remained under control of Republican toadies?
   You would be in despair, discouraged that the midterm elections had proved that most of your fellow Americans loathe “other” people, including those who want to be Americans just like us.
   You’d be feeling worse – if that’s possible – than you did two years ago when Trump won the presidential election. You’d be feeling worse, because after two full years of seeing Trump in action, after thousands of tweets, thousands of lies, a gazzilion attacks on America’s traditions, a failure to put Democrats in charge of the House would have meant that your friends, neighbors, cousins and fellow citizens had decided that Trump Guy was okay.

BUT THAT'S NOT what happened. The protest marches paid off. Same with grassroots organizing; letters to the editors; call-ins to radio shows; kitchen-table debates; over-the-back-fence discussions; water-cooler conversations; fervent prayers; hand-wringing; and unprecedented topnotch journalism – it’s all paid off.
   WE WON!
   So don’t be talked out of the importance of the House victory just because Republicans increased their majority of the Senate, or because the size of the House win wasn’t as big as liberals wanted. Don’t get discouraged because some of Trump’s tactics worked: that his demonization of immigrants, attacks on victims of sexual assault, war on the press succeeded with millions of voters and strengthened his control of the Republican Party.
   That’s democracy. You never get everything you what you want. Nobody does.
   Take Phoebe. Our Humans sometimes offer her “treats,” usually small crumbly MilkBones, even though Phoebe prefers hot dog slices. But hot dog bits are rarely handed out. And do you see Phoebe complaining? Nope. She’ll jump up and down; she’ll race up the stairs; wag her tail furiously; and otherwise humiliate herself just for one measly MilkBone. Rejoice in what you can get, Phoebe says, not what you don’t.

WE'RE NOT POLLYANNAS
   But look what Democrats had to overcome:
   A hot economy (at least in terms of low unemployment, increasing wages, etc.) usually helps a president. In cat terms, a full food bowl trumps an empty one. But Trump himself ignored the economy in favor of beating up on immigrants during the final weeks of the campaign. And voters ignored the economy as well, with millions of voters influenced more by Trump’s gutter character than their well-stocked pantries.
   The reformers, resisters and rebuilders – whatever you want to call the Democrats – lacked a unifying leader, a charismatic, inspiring figure on level of a Barack Obama or a Jack Kennedy. Instead, it was sheer idealism, a belief in American traditions, and individual conscience that led this election.
   Further, the midterm elections bucked a worldwide, baffling phenomenon in which voters willingly have brought to power a fresh generation of anti-democratic monsters to run countries like the Philippines and Brazil.
   So, don’t let the pundits, the sourpusses and the skunks-at-the-parties mislead you about what just happened.
   Remembering Obama’s rallying cry, “Yes, we can,” the election that just happened was a genuine instance of “Yes, we did.”
   So take a moment to celebrate, to rejoice.
   WE WON!

Day 649

11/6/2018

Election Day edition
AFTER 2-YEAR WAIT,THINKING POSITIVELY ABOUT THE MIDTERMS

TOURO SYNAGOGUE in Newport. A symbol of Americal's religious diversity, the synagogue's flag is at half mast, following the shooting deaths of 11 people in a Pittsburgh synagogue Oct. 27

   WHEN I ASKED CAT whether he’s superstitious, he answered with a question:
   “If I say ‘Yes,’ does that lower or increase the odds of the Democrats winning (or losing) the House in the midterms?” he asked. “And what if I answer ‘No?’ ”
   “I can’t answer that,” I said.
   “Why? ‘Cat asked.
   “Because I don’t want to jinx the outcome,” I said.
   “Good point, Phoebe,” Cat said. “This is no time to take chances.”
   “Everyone seems to be thinking the same way,” I said. “The press people are jumpy. First they tell us the signs are that the Democrats are going to win, then they pull back and say, ‘Heck, remember two years ago?”
    The Washington Post had something just to that effect yesterday by Aaron Blake:
   According to projections, Democrats are a strong favorite to win the night’s big prize: this time, the House. As 2016 showed us, though, taking strong odds and reading them as guarantees can make you look awfully dumb.
   “Dumb is bad,” Cat said.
   Cat and I looked at each other, as if we had the same thought: Not only are we afraid of jinxing the election by having happy thoughts, but lots of others are scared of looking dumb, being wrong, and most of all, being disappointed.
   “We’ve stopped hoping,” I said to Cat.
   “Maybe we should be thinking about all the good things that could happen,” Cat said.
   “A daring idea,” I said.

SAINT MARY'S PARISH, in Newport, where John Kennedy, the nation's first Roman Catholic president, was married

SO CAT AND I PUT our heads together, put our superstitions aside and put our best paws forward, and came up with our Democrats Win the House Wish List:

Trump will be discredited and humiliated, maybe begin to lose support, even from Republicans. (Last part, admittedly, a bit of magical thinking).
He’ll be vulnerable in 2020.
The Constitutional balance of power will be partially restored, with the House able to veto or block some, maybe most, of Trump’s worst ideas.
Treatment of immigrants, transgender people, African-Americans could improve as The Wall fades away as another stupid idea.
The War on Science: over.
The War on Climate Change: back on track.
Demonization of the press: Be Nicer to Reporters becomes a national holiday.
People feeling better. Getting more sleep. Having better digestion. Being kinder to their kids. (And pets).
Obamacare: saved. Possibly improved. Thousands won’t die for lack of medical care.
Trump’s central philosophy, that Americans are driven by fear, bigotry and hatred: out the window. People care that their country is built on tolerance, diversity, inclusion.

THE GREAT FRIENDS MEETING HOUSE in Newport. Oldest surviving house of worship in Rhode Island, built around 1699

AS TO THAT LAST POINT, point, I told Cat about the walk that the Grouchy One and I had taken around Newport yesterday. I noticed we were passing all these historic churches, some built before the Revolutionary War, and it seemed there were lots of different faiths.
   Grouchy said Rhode Island is where religious freedom took root. One of the state’s founders, Roger Williams, who was driven out of Massachusetts for his religious beliefs, envisioned a state that welcomed many religions.
   Indeed, in just a half-hour’s walk, we passed a Catholic church, Saint Mary’s Parish, established in 1828. It’s where Jacqueline and John Kennedy were married in 1953; Kennedy later became the country’s first Catholic president.
   We went to the Great Friends Meeting House, created by Quakers in 1699, oldest surviving place of worship in Rhode Island. Trinity Church, 1726, an Episcopal church with a pew where a visiting George Washington sat. St. Paul’s United Methodist Church, 1806, where a sign proclaimed it’s the world’s oldest Methodist church “with a steeple and bell.” United Baptist Church (1638). The Community Baptist Church, which has a largely black congregation. Newport Congregational Church, 1859. And Channing Memorial Church, with a Unitarian congregation dating back to 1835.

OUTSIDE TOURO SYNAGOGUE

WE ALSO WALKED the streets around Touro Synagogue, the oldest surviving synagogue in the country (1763). Touro was the recipient of a famous letter from George Washington, who wrote to the congregation in 1790 assuring Jews they were secure in America.
   It is now no more that toleration is spoken of as if it were the indulgence of one class of people that another enjoyed the exercise of their inherent natural rights, for, happily, the Government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance, requires only that they who live under its protection should demean themselves as good citizens in giving it on all occasions their effectual support.
   The American flag outside Touro Synagogue was at half-mast, I presumed in honor of the 11 persons slaughtered in a Pittsburgh synagogue on Oct. 27 by an anti-Semitic gunman, an incident that many people believe was a predictable byproduct of Trump’s hate campaign.
   “There’s a lot riding on the election,” I said.
   “And a lot to look forward to,” Cat said.

CHANNING MEMORIAL CHURCH. The Unitarian congregation in Newport dates back to 1835

SAINT PAUL'S UNITED METHODIST CHURCH

UNITED BAPTIST CHURCH

TRINITY EPISCOPAL CHURCH

Day 647

11/4/2018

Election Countdown
HOW TO DEAL WITH A BULLY

AT OUR REGULAR STAFF meeting today, the producers of the On Trump’s Trail blog, which is to say all two of us – Phoebe, “the sweet dog,” and Cat, “a cat” – discussed how best to serve our readers.
   It was a depressing conversation, because there are lots of really great columnists who are: a) smarter, b) more eloquent, and c) certainly harder working than we are.
But we bring two strengths that our competitors may lack.
   We’re pretty sure that David Brooks, Richard Cohen, Timothy Eagan, Gail Collins, Dana Milbank, Karen Tumulty, Dr. Paul Krugman, E.J. Dionne, and our particular fav, the Washington Post’s hilarious and brave Alexandra Petri, presumably don’t use their backyards as bathrooms, and therefore, they are not as connected as we are to America’s true grassroots.
   And while we are far removed from the wolf packs and feline prides of our ancestors – in fact, we live embarrassingly sheltered lives as we are waited on day and night by our resident Humans – our genes likely retain residual knowledge of what takes to survive The Jungle.

WHICH BRINGS US BACK to today’s topic: How to Deal With a Bully.
You know whom we mean: the sadistic, narcissistic, psychopathic, racist, lying, worst comb-over ever, Putin-loving, environment-hating cad who has cowed an entire political party, out-maneuvered every opponent and confounded every pundit, historian, pollster, fact-checker and countless other “expert” experts, by losing the popular vote but still managing to move into 1600 Pennsylvania Ave., Washington DC, 20500.
And he's destined to remain there another two years, although even that cannot be said for sure, because with the current resident, anything is possible, including the chance he’ll get bored with his current job and slither back to Mar-a-Lago and The What’s-His-Name Tower in Manhattan.
Now, where were we?

OH, YEAH, How to Deal With a Bully.
    How the heck should we know?
    We are just a dog and a cat, and we are uniquely susceptible to being bullied ourselves, given that one of us weighs only 51 pounds, and the other is just 13 pounds, which is obese for a cat, but still leaves us pretty much at the mercy of any man or beast who wants to push us around.
    But like our competitor/colleagues, Mr. Brooks, Dr. Krugman Ms. Petri, etc., etc., we are not paid to admit that we have no answers. (In fact, we aren't paid at all).
     What follows is our best guesses, straight from the grassroots and The Jungle:
    Do NOT try to out-Trump Trump.
    Trump is a master of the insult; he can’t be humiliated; can’t be shamed.
    Even if you succeed in learning the Donald’s black arts, you and the rest of us will lose, since the last thing the planet needs are more Donalds.
   Further, you don’t want to want your kids to grow up acting like Donald Trump. Nor do you want to wake up every morning with that face leering back at you from the bathroom mirror.
   Do NOT play on his terms. The talented Harvard University professor and now U.S. Senator, Elizabeth Warren, is in a position to write the ultimate academic and political case study on that topic.
    Hoping to escape Trump’s relentless taunts, calling her “Pocahontas,” she fell for his challenge to “prove” that her ancestry includes Native American roots by taking a DNA test. Thr test proved nothing, and she drew the scorn of Native Americans, while removing herself as a viable replacement resident at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.
   Do NOT fall for Hollywood’s remedy, in which the “Dad” equivalent character, humiliated by the sight of his bloodied, bruised and whimpering “Son,” instructs the lad to return to the schoolyard at the earliest opportunity, but this time carrying a baseball bat. “Beating the shit” out of someone sounds as criminal and wrong as it is likely to be unsuccessful and counterproductive.
   So, you ask, what do you do with a bully like Donald Trump?

BEATS US. Whoops, once again that’s not right; we are expected to have answers.
   So here they are:
   DO call out the bully, as well as his enablers. It’s the Republicans, after all – the McConnells, the Ryans, the Grahams and the rest of the suck-ups, brown-nosers and cowards of the GOP, who are making his presidency possible, along with the mindless cult-followers who don’t care if Donald blows someone’s brains out in the middle of Fifth Avenue.
    But unlike Trump, his followers can be humiliated and shamed. It may take a while, but history and possibly even some of Tuesday’s voters will look unkindly on the quislings' association with him.
   DO counter-attack, but just don’t do it on Trump’s terms.
   What should Professor/Senator Warren have done to deal with the Pocahontas insults? First, she was on the right track years ago, when opponents first questioned her ancestry references.
   She made a convincing case that Native American ancestry was family lore and that it shaped her self-image, although her remarkable academic and political careers were not built on that association.
    As for Trump’s insult, Warren should have called it for what it was and still is, a terrible slur: on women, on Native Americans and on all Americans. Proof of Trump’s racism, and another chance to stick him with that shocking but true label.
    It's our belief that ultimately Americans don’t want a racist-in-chief living at Pennsylvania Avenue, any more than they want to be known as bigots themselves or are looking forward to a second Civil War.
   DO provide a better vision of America than Trump has offered. Do talk about long-term job and income prospects for workers sidelined and frightened by new technology.
    Propose a guaranteed living wage while we get this artificial intelligence stuff sorted out. Revive the idea that our immediate mission is to “save the planet” from global warming, and that we have less than a decade in which to do it. That's an undertaking which will create millions of new jobs that the robots can’t handle.
    Healthcare for all. Affordable housing for all. Education for all. The New Deal never should be allowed to grow old. Nor should the noble words of the Constitution and Declaration of Independence ever become old-fashioned.
    Ask what Americans can do for their country – a year or two of national service, perhaps?
    Restore America’s honor as the leader of the free world.
    Don’t be afraid to adopt the Other Party’s better visions: Reagan’s shining city on a hill, Bush’s thousand points of light, Teddy Roosevelt’s move to create and protect vast national parks.
    America is as much an idea as it is a place, which is why so many people come here.
   DO vote. Vote on Tuesday. Vote in 2020. Vote in the 2022 midterms. And in 2024.
    You can’t stop a playground bully with a baseball bat. But you can beat him senseless at the polls.

DOES ANY OF THIS make sense?
   Will it work?
   Hey, we're just one cat and one dog, and we’re spoiled rotten at that.
    But we’re speaking not only from the grassroots, but from our hearts.
   And take it from a simple dog and a simple cat, we are not living in The Jungle. That may be a suitable place for a bully like Donald Trump to do his worst, but it’s no place to raise a family or a place that anyone in their right mind would choose to live.
    And while you’re at it, put up a flag at your house.
    It belongs to all of us.

Day 646

11/3/2018

Election Countdown

GETTING READY FOR ELECTION NIGHT

“WE NEED TO PREPARE for Election Night,” I said to Cat.
    “Plenty of treats. I’m thinking a fresh bag of Feline Greenies™ for myself,” Cat said. “I suppose you’ll be satisfied with a generous supply of Milk-Bones™, the multi-colored variety pack, in which the treats are distinguished by whether they’re infused with Red Dye #1, Yellow #5.”
    “That’s not exactly what I mean,” I said.
      “Well, you're right Phoebe. It probably will be a long night, so maybe an extra blanket for me in front of the TV,” Cat said. “I’ll speak to the Nice One about a freshly laundered one. You, of course, will be on the floor with your filthy dog bed.”
    “Still not what I mean.”
    “Fresh batteries for the remote?” Cat replied. “Although I don’t know how much channel shifting we’ll be wanting to do. I think we should lock in on PBS. I mean, they all basically share the same databases. So it’s a matter of whether you want Big Three mannequins reading the Teleprompter, or you prefer the stranger-looking ones on public television. Personally, I like….”
    “Stop it, Cat,” I said. “By being prepared, I mean getting ready for the worst – getting mentally ready for the Democrats to lose Congress.”
    “Well, the Senate has always been a longshot,” Cat laughed. “But the House, as in the United States House of Representatives, switches to control of the Democrats. Let the hearings begin.”
    “Wrong again, Cat Breath,” I said. “We have to consider that the Democrats lose the whole shebang, Senate AND the House.”

    CAT'S FACE WAS FROZEN momentarily, then his expression began to spasm between grins and grimaces, his whole body heaving as if he has having his worst hairball eruptions of the century, his eyes rolling upward as if they were about to disappear into his brain, which would be impossible, Cat’s brain being smaller than either one of his eyeballs.
   “That’s preposterous, Phoebe,” he gasped. “Haven’t you been paying attention? The Big Blue Wave has been on its way for two years. We’ve been looking forward to this for so long. The polls show that the House is going to switch from Republican to Democratic control. The only question is by how many seats.”
“The polls?” I said. “The polls aren’t to be trusted. They are just guesswork. They can show some things. But not how people are actually going to vote. You might recall how on-the-money they were two years ago.”
   “And you are getting all of this ‘information’ from where? Cat shouted.
    “From the night of Nov. 8, 2016,” I said. “The night of the constant nightmare.”
    “But that was two years ago, and everyone’s had a chance to see what a horrible president Trump has turned out to be. Five or six lies a d y. (Actually, in the last seven weeks, Trump has upped his lie-count to an average of 30 lies a day, according to the Washington Post.) Cancelling treaties. Turning back the environmental clock. Racism. Hatred. Every day a Bad Hair Day,” Cat said. “That’s what they’ll be voting about on Tuesday.”
    “All true,” I said.
    “Looking forward to the mid-term elections is what has kept you and me and millions and millions of Americans going for the last two years. It’s how we are able to get out of bed every morning, or in my case, every afternoon. Nov. 6, 2018. The Day We’ve Been Waiting For.”
    I thought Cat was really going to shake himself to pieces at this point. So many questions: Should I call 911? Would EMTs come for someone said to be in political distress? Are today’s rescue trucks even equipped to treat a hyperventilating cat?

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN LOSE?” Cat howled. “Everyone has been calling the midterms as the Most Important Elections in Our Lifetime.”
    “They surely are all of that,” I said.
    “My point, exactly,” Cat said. “Too important to lose. Think of what Trump will do with a solid Republican Senate, a solid Republican House, a solid Republican Supreme Court. He’ll go wild. The next two years will be horrifying. Having stirred up hatred for immigrants and black people, he’ll move onto everyone he doesn’t like, which will turn out to be pretty much everyone. He’ll use the military, regular police, the spy agencies. Nationalize the networks. Jail his opponents. Sell naming rights to the Lincoln Memorial; maybe change it to Trump’s Tomb. Use libel laws to finish off what’s left of newspapers. Kill all the lawyers.”
    “All very likely, Cat,” I said.
    “How do you prepare for something like that?” Cat asked, his voice shaking.
    “By getting ready,” I said. “First, you get your mind ready, so that you are not paralyzed by fear. So that you don’t become so discouraged that you just wash your paws of politics. So that you’ll be able to move on to Plan B.”
    “What’s Plan B,” Cat said, a note of hope creeping into his voice. “In fact, I didn’t know there was a Plan A.”
    “Plan B is pretty much like Plan A,” I said. “Plan A was to survive after 2016, pledging to fight the Republicans any way possible, with emphasis on restoring the balance of power by capturing the House in the mid-terms.”
   “Plan B simply is more advanced version of Plan A: to win the White House, AND the Senate AND the House two years from now. Keep organizing for the next races. Learn from the mistakes of the mid-terms. Give money to organizations like the ACLU. Pay for newspapers to keep them afloat. Go to rallies. Join political groups.”
    “Only this time it will be harder. Trump and his drones will be twice a strong and even more in control. They’ll be meaner. More wily. Less inhibited. More dug in. More will believe the lies. Maybe, Trump will throw in a war or two, just to keep Democrats off balance, followed by authoritarian moves we can’t even begin imagine. And, of course, the odds of success will be considerably worse than they are now,” I said.
    “Well, Cat said, sarcastically. “That’s all very comforting, very uplifting.”
    “I’m not saying it will be easy,” I said, “just possible.”

“NOT VERY CONVINCING,"Cat said. “Can’t you come up with something more inspiring?”
    “Only this: we don’t have a choice if things turn out just as badly this Tuesday as they did Nov. 8 two years ago,” I said.
    “But here’s the reason to stay positive: There are lots of good folks everywhere, in every state, in every city and every village. They feed the hungry, care for the sick, pick up litter on the beaches, worry about melting glaciers, bleaching of coral reefs and fierce hurricanes wiping more and more places."
    "They have bake sales to raise money for school kids’ field trips. They run to cure breast cancer, walk to end Alzheimer’s. They take in stray dogs, bring birds with broken wings to the vet and even rescue a cat or two.”
    “But the one thing they never do is quit; they never stop making the world a better place. They won’t let their sons and daughters grow up mean like Donald Trump, or let him and his enablers ruin their vision of democracy."
"They aren’t going to stop the day after the mid-terms or two days after, not on Thanksgiving or after Christmas," I said. "And they won’t stop all through 2019, and come 2020, they’ll be ready.”
    “Something to look forward to, I suppose” Cat said.
     “Still,” he said, “On election night, I’d like to get a full bag of Greenies™ and have a clean blanket on the couch to watch the returns come in. And I sure would like you there with me, especially if you turn out to be completely, totally, absolutely wrong.”
    “Sounds like a plan,” I said.

A "sweet dog" confronts the catastrophe of the Trump presidency

The Tracker

PHOEBE might have remained a “sweet” and apolitical dog but for the Trump crisis. Now, like millions of Americans, she wrestles daily with the challenge of what to do about it. With no illusions about the impact, she founded and is the principal writer of the Tracking Trump blog.

In Memoriam

CAT, a cat and Libertarian was Phoebe's co-author. He died Nov. 14, 2019. His self-described role was to leaven Phoebe’s naiveté and idealism with “common sense." He is remembered and missed.