Day One - Inauguration

January 20^th 2017 – Inauguration Day.

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Was there ever a more appropriate morning to fling your alarm clock out the window than January 20^th 2017?  Launch it, curse the day and roll over and go to sleep – for four years.  Hell I’m willing to bet that even the sun itself was trying to figure out a way to bail.  That day was, as we are all so painfully aware, Inauguration Day for the 45^th President of the United States – Donald J. Trump. 

It was the beginning of the next stage of a journey that’s lasted a good (or bad) 20 months.  Or as Jerome J. Garcia and his band mates once put it “a long strange trip.”  Yes the Trump stage show has been held over. "We're playing this lounge for 4 years folks. It's gonna be really great. Like nothing you've ever seen."

I hoisted myself out of bed at 5:30 to the realization that my job was suddenly more essential than it was 24 hours previous.  Anyone with company healthcare coverage probably woke up to the same sodden news flash.  The new administration along with the help of Ryan – McConnell are poised to take a scalpel to the Affordable Care Act.  And don't expect a delicate, precise surgery.  More like one of those dig and cut operatons.  And El Jefe wants it done sooner rather than later.

The notion of expediting the dismantling of Obamacare and coming up with an almost immediate replacement has the Ryan – McConnell gang in a bit of a tizzy.  Remember those college days when you stayed up till the crack of dawn alternating between Coke and coffee to do that term paper in one night because you frittered away 6 weeks?  Well the GOP apparently didn’t work on their term paper either.  They frittered away 8 years with worthless votes to repeal the ACA knowing all the while that they didn’t have the votes. They didn’t need a plan because they knew that they didn’t have the votes.  They were just putting on a little skit for the folks back home.  “Look Marge, they said it rahgt thar on the Fox News that our boy voted agin’ that Obummercare. He’s a good ol’ boy an he’s getting’ mah vote next tahm round.” 

Trump announced that he has a plan to insure everyone.  That too, must have shivered Ryan’s timbers.  That’s universal healthcare and that’s been something of anathema to the GOP. 

Trump’s election and his promise to unceremoniously toss the ACA has had a personal affect.  My wife retired 4 years ago and she’s been on Medicare.  I just turned 63 and I’ve got 21 months until I’m Medicare eligible.  As I approached 60 I’d played with the notion of retiring at 63 and bridging the healthcare gap using the ACA. 

And then Donald Trump announced his candidacy.  Like everyone else except those who got addicted with the first swig I thought it was a big joke.  But when the laughter started to die away and get replaced by wary glances and nervous gulps I started shifting retirement to the backburner.

Then 2016 happened.  It started bad and continued bad.  If it wasn’t terrorist attacks or natural disasters or the polar ice caps continuing to dwindle towards being a couple of ice cubes it was the death of someone’s hero.  I mean they were all dying in 2016.  I started the year with a pulmonary embolism and a dog with a sore foot.  The sore foot turned to an infection and cancer and my dog died 8 months later. 

And then there was the election.  By June Trump was rolling and in August when we lost our dog I was certain that Trump would win.  After I had to put my best, loyal friend to sleep what could possibly be a more appropriate, more toxic icing for the hellish cake of 2016 than a Trump victory?

So much for early retirement.  I’ve realized that while the circumstance pisses me off its inconsequential compared to those on the ACA who are really sick or terrified of getting sick.  You can’t exactly swear off getting cancer for four years.  I’ve friends who are in that very fragile boat right now.  I’ve a 30 year old daughter with Type 1 diabetes.  She has a job and company sponsored healthcare coverage but what if she loses her job?  Right now that’s the question on the minds of many Americans who aren’t in the 1%.  Nothing like the double edged sword of insolvency or death hanging over your head.  Unless of course its insolvency and then death. 

That early morning on the 20^th of January, Inauguration Day, it really didn’t matter how he’d won.  He won and I guess that’s all that mattered.  There was no waking up from a bad dream.  Nope, no punch line, only a punch to the eye of Lady Liberty and the gut of the middle class and the poor.  I remember when the Trump snowball was gaining momentum.  I harbored this ridiculous notion that Trump was a Trojan Horse.  Look at the old days, I thought, and that chummy palling around with the Clintons.  Yeah, I harbored that fantasy for about an hour.

I get to work early every morning.  I get shit done.  Management gets to work early too but they pretty much leave me alone.  It’s a symbiotic relationship.  I get my shit done and they leave me alone.  But on this morning of the 20^th one of the big giant heads came by to – chat - apparently. 

After the requisite “how are you doings” he said, “We should turn on the TV.  There’s an inauguration” 

Do you ever wonder if, just as that trout is starting to suck in the salmon egg he suddenly realizes that there’s a hook buried in there an instant before barb pierces flesh? 

Just as the words “I’d rather skip the inauguration,” were leaving my mouth I knew I’d been hooked.  I’ve never actually seen it but rumor has it that this guy's eyes roll back into his spinning head and then he projectile vomits green bile at the very mention of Hilary Clinton. 

I try very hard to avoid politics at the office unless I’m certain that the person I’m talking to is on the same side of the fence.  I try to hold to the words of that old Texas Congressman, Sam Rayburn, “If you want to go along you gotta get along.”  I don’t really need to go along. I just need to get along and gut out the next 2 years. “Stay low,” as a former co-worker used to say.  Hard to stay off the radar discussing politics with a manager.

I tried immediately to disengage.  “Let’s agree to disagree.”  He wasn’t having it. 

“Trump’s a lot better than Obama.”

I countered with the argument that the Presidency isn’t an entry level position.

“Obama ruled by executive order,” he said.

I didn’t mention the fact that he issued fewer of those on average than every President since Truman.

“Let’s agree to disagree.”

He came back with, “The President is like the Queen; just a figurehead.”

I had this urge to laugh out loud, advise him to read The Constitution and a history book and then pack up my stuff and quit before being fired.

“Let’s agree to disagree.” 

He finally disengaged and I’m certain he was proud of himself for vanquishing a libtard while I wondered what Wal-Mart is paying greeters these days. 

There aren’t many days when an event is of such magnitude that we can’t look away from it to concentrate on our daily tasks.  January 20^th was one of those days.  A lot of my time was spent looking away from spread sheets to images of Barack Obama.  I simply stared as if I was trying to look through the computer screen.  The hundred yard stare at a screen a foot away.  The feeling was like saying a final goodbye to a dear friend.  That image of a beloved President looking down from a helicopter at the White House one final time left me in desolation.  Why did this man who had our backs have to go away?  I must have asked that question a hundred times that day.  He was our guardian; the man who kept the wolves at bay.  He was the man with that rare gift; who could easily and genuinely wear his emotions of sorrow or anguish for all of us to see yet at the same time comfort us and show us that he would be there to stand up for all Americans; even those who cruelly disparaged him.  Here was a man who kept his dignity and his cool while being vilified by a hostile Congress and the nation’s right wing.  January 20^th was a day of sad reflection.  It was a day of mournful commiseration with the co-workers who I knew understood.  I spoke at length with a black woman who I knew had more to be concerned about than that this middle aged white guy.  No, January 20^th wasn’t a day for anger.  We would have 1460 more days to devote to that.