My Friend Donald (Part 2)



Four years ago I wrote about My Friend Donald (Part 1) after he was publicly embarrassed at the 2011 White House Correspondents Dinner. It was there that he was mocked by President Obama and he had no choice to do anything other than sit and take it. In all the years of our friendship, Donald was never good at hiding his emotions and on this occasion, the whole gamut was on display. He showed fury, scorn, disgust, hatred… and then he smiled.

Obama Trump

What I feared for then. Was that my friend would fade into obscurity, unable to face the public in the boastful way which had once been his trademark. He had been publicly abused by a man he frankly didn’t like very much. Worse yet it had been recorded for posterity’s sake and would be seen over and again by millions, with Donald Trump as the butt of the joke. I thought of reaching out to Donald then. But our relationship was not such that I felt I could be helpful, I could only remind him of his pain.

Looking back, I see I underestimated the force of will of Donald Trump. He turned deep humiliation into motivation and it was then at that dinner, at the moment he smiled. That he decided he would become the President of the United States and undo all that President Obama had accomplished in eight years. He thought about running in 2012 but recognized that after the President was successful in killing Bin Laden there was little chance of usurping the hated Obama that year, but Donald was a planner. He would start sowing the seeds for his 2016 campaign. He was as motivated as he could possibly be, I’m saddened to say he was fueled by hate.

Donald Trump Decision

You have to know Donald like I knew him to understand where he is coming from. He has kept a mental list of all those that have ever stood in his way and he would use his Presidency to get revenge. He hated the Federal Government that had once sued him for refusing to rent to “the Blacks” in one of his housing projects. Despite his present claims that he “never settles”, he did this time for millions of dollars and it still eats at him.

His hatred of the media stems from an event that took place before his birth. The New York Times ran an article mentioning his father Fred, had been arrested along with 6 others in a violent clash between police and the KKK. They even printed his home address in the paper and pointed to the fact that all 7 men were represented by the same lawyer as if that was supposed to mean anything. His present response to that event is that “it never happened” which if he repeats enough will make it go away in his mind.

Donald never really got along with minorities. He considered himself a good athlete yet the few Hispanics he knew always wanted to play soccer and he never got the hang of the game. Not only was he not good but he felt they verbally abused him in Spanish which made the insults all the worse because he didn’t know exactly what they were saying. His list was growing and he knew one day he would implement “the big payback” although at the time he didn’t know what form it would take.

By the time he got to military school. Donald did pretty well with the girls in the rich kid with a nice car kind of way. He began to suspect that none of them liked him for him and only for his money which came from his father and hadn’t been earned himself. It got back to him some of the things that were said behind his back so his “revenge” against women would be sleeping with as many of them as he could. To his credit, he never claimed to have slept with anyone he didn’t. He did never fail to name all the women that he felt wanted him and claim he could have had them which could never be disproven. Donald eventually developed a “type”. Tall, blonde, Slavic and who viewed him as means to and end whether in terms of enhancing their modeling careers or becoming a trophy wife. They also have in common an unwillingness to talk about him (much) when the relationship is over lest the money stop flowing.

For the moment, Donald seems back on top of the world. He’s the presumptive nominee of the Republican Party he and his children only recently joined so that he could become President. The Democrats his views were more in line with would never have had him. With the Republicans, there were enough people like him, that thought the same way, that he could get far. His campaign slogan says it all, “Make America Great Again”. I’d love for someone to ask him exactly when “again” was so we could clarify what he means. The beauty is that people can fill in the blanks with the one constant being when America was whiter.



I won’t talk about his politics. I worry about how things end this time for my friend. For all that Donald Trump does not know which is a long list. He knows what being a loser is. He can try to salvage some pride by claiming he received more Republican primary votes than any other man in history. He can claim to have led a movement which is true but I might phrase it differently. My friend Donald made it acceptable to be overtly racist. He made it okay to be homophobic and xenophobic and to advocate a me first attitude that he has personally always lived by. Should he lose, an ordinary politician would attempt to rewrite history and attempt to salvage his pride. But Donald knows losers, and would never believe the hype, even if he were the one spewing it.

There is the other more remote possibility that he could actually win. Donald wouldn’t fare well as President because Congress wouldn’t simply do as he says and that would be a problem. He won’t be able to mock them into compliance because Congress is almost immune after being mocked by the whole nation during the past several years. He would find being President lonely and sad. He would become known as the least effective President ever, and he would respond on Twitter.

It shall not end well for Donald either way. I want to let him know that I am now, and shall forever more be… his friend

My Friend Donald Part 1 (2012)


I’ve met Donald Trump on two occasions, in the way that when you’re in the same room with a celebrity you feel like you’ve met them even though you never got within more than a few feet. The first was in 1992 at the Super Bowl in Minneapolis. I remember the event far more for Doug Williams and the Redskins decisive victory over Denver than for having been in the presence of “The Donald”. He was with a mini entourage, one of his wives I think Ivana was with him. He was in a suit and a Kojak looking overcoat and she was in a full-length mink coat. The game in Minnesota was played inside in 75 degree weather in the Metrodome but I suppose one had to get from the limo inside and he had people to hand all his stuff. I thought how uncomfortable it must be to watch a game in that attire but I guess when you’re Donald Trump you have an image to maintain.

The second time was maybe 10 years later in New York on the grounds of the US Open Tennis Tournament. For anyone that’s attended that event. Inevitably during the first week the temperature reaches approximately 100 degrees every day, and at some time during the second week the temperature breaks and then it gets cold, catching the uninitiated unawares who then have to buy one of the fleece items sold on the grounds or go home. There is a lot of open space on the grounds of the Open and there is no way to get around and avoid the elements. Donald Trump was there when the temperatures were hot, yet he still wore a suit and was accompanied by a new wife who looked considerably like the first. His hair had acquired a new tint that I couldn’t really attach any color to that I knew by name. He was a bit larger, not larger than life simply larger and he had the feeling this time of having become a caricature of himself that got up each day trying to maintain the image he imagined.

As Donald and I (now having met twice and on a first name basis) don’t really run in the same circles we haven’t had occasion to get together again. Of course, he is on TV from time to time and I might stop to watch my friend but it was during this election season with his myriad appearances that I began to see him as if for the first time.

Donald had become shrill in voice and was constantly calling out for attention. I was now finally able to understand the phrase concerning Don Quixote tilting at windmills. His obsession about the President’s Birth Certificate was clearly much more about his vanity and desire to stay in the spotlight than anything else. It was at the White House Correspondents ‘Dinner that he reached rock bottom I thought. When the President of the United States on national television having released his long form birth certificate days earlier, took the time to publicly humiliate my friend Donald with the camera’s pointing at him slinking in his chair. And when it became known that he did so while Donald occupied only a minor portion of his thoughts as he was involved at that moment with the raid to get Bin Laden. I wondered who near him would step in with an intervention.

Donald disappeared for a time, but obviously his crack like addiction for attention still needed to be fed so he got back up off the mat and inserted himself back into the public eye. He took credit for having been the one that “got the President” to release his birth certificate while at the same time doubting its authenticity. He stood by Mitt Romney and endorsed him in his own hotel which has more to do with the shamelessness of Mitt than the significance of Donald. And as the election wound down and his name seldom mentioned, Donald knew he had to do one last thing to throw himself into the spotlight making his big “announcement” less than two weeks before the election.

Being his friend I don’t even want to talk about the aftermath. I can usually associate life scenes from old or obscure movies and this time, two came to mind. The first was from “Sunset Boulevard” at the end where the aging Gloria Swanson let Mr. DeMille know she was ready for her close-up when the only interest in her was for her car. The second was from “Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte” again at the end when Betty Davis was being driven away from a crowd and reporters, smiling when all around her just thought her sad. For those who haven’t seen those movies, just understand that Donald has become what he would have least desired… the joke. Fortunate is he that he has been spared the shame of the depths of his fall. I don’t want to watch this story’s conclusion when he’ll inevitably start approaching strangers and asking “Don’t you know who I am?” I brushed away a tear while writing this because the Donald I once knew is alas no more!

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