I’ll be 53 on Sunday and I’m going to a friend’s house. She’s making me a chocolate cake and there will be a party atmosphere (it may have something to do with the Stupid Bowl, but she makes cakes for a living so I’m all in). Usually, I just want a massage or a cocktail, but it’s an alarming new year. I’ve amended my usual list.
Here’s what I want for my birthday -
- The truth.
- Bannon disappeared. I’ve heard that salt works well with slugs. The people’s house will then need to be scrubbed of the stench of evil.
- Kellyanne melted.
- Spicer carried off by flying monkeys.
- Herr Drumpf - degilded, deflated and Zeppelined to Irkutsk.
- The tax returns.
- I might want drugs but I haven’t worked out the details yet.
- All Constitutional crises averted, immediately.
- Results of all investigations into all things Putin. Sanctions lifted? Christopher Steele? Ukraine? This? We need a connection of dots — the truth is in there, somewhere, and I’m guessing it’s explosive.
- Video and audio from the infamous “dossier.” I don’t want to see or hear any of it, as I can’t unsee even the suggestion of it, but I want the whole world to pass it around and make the thin-skinned idiot clown squirm.
- I want the Pats to suffer a crushing defeat. I don’t care a bit for football and won’t watch any of it (the food, the wine, and the best conversation will be in the kitchen), but owner Kraft and QB Brady are Trumpeters and the wicked shall one day be forced to pay.
- I want to share this image and I want you to share it, as well. This may seem mean and petty, but we must remember that even the wicked are vulnerable and hold only as much power as we grant them. Plus he hates it when we share anything that drags him down from his vain illusions, the rude and rumpled straw man. (Note: If this was an image of someone I respected, it would only make me like them more, as it conveys some humanity. He, however, hasn’t earned my respect.)
- Streets and airports filled, all resistance, all the time. The White House should have constant public surveillance, angry people just outside the windows as he watches Fox News and anxiously buffs his nails.
- A giant spotlight shining on voter suppression, gerrymandering, and the right’s longterm, methodical march to stolen elections. Crosscheck, everyone. Pay attention.
- Someone somewhere suggested a coffee table book with all the best signs from the magnificent marches against fascist monsters. I want that.
- I want this big, messy, gorgeous place that we all call home to rise up against fascism, against hatred, against everything that almost every one of us knows is wrong, and to show the world that we’re good, that our experiment is not over and that we will prevail over today’s evil.
- Strong spines and moral compasses in Washington and in every capitol across this nation. Find them, ladies and gentlemen, the hour is late.
- I want my kids to see what happens when we join voices and hands and flex might for right. Let’s clean up this mess.
- I mostly want to wake from this nightmare. What’s it been, 13 days now? That’s quite enough.
This is a possibly obnoxious and definitely self-centered exercise, but we all have desires and we haven’t yet lost our right to express them.
Plus, it’s my birthday.