“Those jobs will all be back.” Donald J. Trump
Another lovely day in Santa Barbara. The wind kicked up and chased the marine layer from the sky. I rode my bike to the office where now anyone entering the building must wear a facial covering. One of the contractors working on the heating and cooling upgrade never wears a mask. He looks like the kind of person who would say, “I don’t need a mask. It’s just the flu, and I never get the flu. It’s totally overblown.” Part of Canon Perdido street has been repaved, but the lane lines are yet to be laid down. Next door to the office a new building is under construction, a monster that runs from property line to property line, not an inch wasted, and rising three stories. Offices and apartments. Luxury living in beautiful downtown Santa Barbara. Mountain views. Across De La Guerra street, another project is underway and the street is blocked off to allow heavy equipment room to operate. I watch a man bust chunks of a sandstone wall with a sledgehammer. I hear the sound of hammers, saws, diesel engines.
Whatever you believe about Barack Obama, the facts prove that his administration was one of the cleanest in modern American history. No scandals. No pornstars. No Russian agents.
As I ride my bike around there seems to be more activity, more cars, and more people out. A loosening of the net. But stores are closed, some retail spaces already wear For Lease banners, and the Nordstrom store that anchored one end of the Paseo Nuevo mall for decades has announced it will not reopen. We bought a lot of stuff at Nordstrom over the years, from shoes to cosmetics to jewelry to clothing. No Macy’s. No Nordstrom. No Forever 21. Who will fall next? I still believe that the majority of the general population has no idea what lies ahead. We’ve been hit hard by Covid-19, but the right hook coming from the economic collapse will send us reeling.
Don’t ask me, ask China, says Donald Trump before he scurries from an uncomfortable press conference. An Asian-American woman half his size tried to hold Trump accountable. Donald hates accountability, whether in business or his personal life. Strong women frighten Donald and he doesn’t know how to react. He likes his women flashy and dense, not professional and determined.
The crime is obvious to anyone, says Donald Trump, referring to a make-believe conspiracy called Obama-Gate. I don’t know any details about Obama-Gate, other than it’s likely manufactured from the detritus of fevered imaginations. Whatever you believe about Barack Obama, the facts prove that his administration was one of the cleanest in modern American history. No scandals. No pornstars. No Russian agents. Obama’s reign was clean and mostly efficient; while I don’t agree with how he did it, I recognize that he kept the nation on the rails in 2009 and 2010, when the rigged housing market collapsed and the paper economy buckled.
“We have met the moment and we have prevailed,” says Trump, like a gladiator. According to MSNBC, 81,468 deaths and more infections than any other country. Testing per capita still trailing, though Trump insists that We Are No. 1. The CDC guidelines for safely reopening society are ignored by Trump himself.
The US has five percent of the world’s population and thirty percent of coronavirus cases. MAGA, baby, this is the “transition to greatness”. We’re going to come roaring back like a locomotive in the third quarter. It will be beautiful, tremendous, like nothing anyone has ever seen, the world will envy us.
Trump has never failed this spectacularly. This is the apex, the pinnacle, the room at the top of the world, the Emmy and the Oscar and the Tony, a diamond-studded Super Bowl ring, the Masters Green Jacket, the World Cup trophy, and the Olympic Gold Medal of Trump’s long run as a huckster and conman. Trump is the Meryl Streep of con artists, a man of the media age, where facts and truth are overrun by images and simplistic plot tricks. He didn’t just ratfuck a casino or an airline this time, he ratfucked an entire country. Trump knows the sales pitch, the slogan, the mirage, but nothing else. When the shit goes down, he cowers away, hides behind bogus lawsuits and bankruptcy protection. Trump’s a punk who thinks he’s a big boss.
I miss soccer, it’s like a void. Marcelo from Real Madrid just turned 32, but it seems like he’s been at Real forever. Same with Sergio Ramos. Both are great players, fun to watch. This long hiatus must drive top players crazy. They are like racehorses, primed to gallop, not be cooped up, even if that means cooped up in luxury.
May. The merry month of May. The mail carrier is wearing blue latex gloves and a face mask. It’s May in the time of Covid-19. It might be May on the edge of the abyss.
It’s May as far as we can see.
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