Flowers are blooming and birds are chirping. It’s springtime on the Eastern Shore, a time of renewal, hope, beauty, and community. People are out and most of them, it seems, are smiling. The long, cruel winter is over. Hallelujah.
One day last week, I focused on springtime, avoiding television the entire day and keeping my laptop closed. I knew I would miss some news but didn’t care. And that was because, with rare exceptions, today’s news isn’t about flowers or birds, it is, far too much, about Donald Trump.
Our President purposely dominates the news, because for just under 80 years, he has suffered from a severe need for attention. He likes seeing himself on TV, written about in newspapers, and talked about at cocktail parties. I suspect he even enjoys reading his own social media posts, both those he writes himself, often in the wee hours of the morning, and those written by taxpayer-funded aides, who are charged with knowing what Trump would like to see written under his name.
In recent years, Trump has had a second reason to aggressively seek attention in the media—to drown out bad press. Trump has a room filled with disasters waiting to get out—additional details on his relationship with Jeffrey Epstein, his rapidly declining health, his grift, his declining popularity, his marriage, and, of course, his mental illness.
Although the President continues to follow one of Roy Cohn’s cardinal rules–never acknowledge a weakness or admit you were wrong–Trump is falling apart. Trump seems to know it, which is why he periodically erupts in anger and produces dozens of social media posts in a single night, many of them additional signs of weakness or mental illness. Examples include accusing Barack Obama of treason, relitigating his loss of the 2020 election, calling Joe Biden names, calling for the prosecution of Senator Mark Kelly, and proclaiming the innocence of people convicted of crimes associated with defending Trump. Some of these people, such as the lovely Sidney Powell, pled guilty to crimes.
So, what do I mean when I write, “Springtime for Trump?” I mean he is enjoying springtime, obliviously enjoying anything that reminds him he is great, despite having started the war in Iran and watching members of his administration resign or makes fools of themselves on TV. One can picture Trump, in his Presidential pajamas, replete with the Presidential seal, dancing around his bedroom after completing another social media post, doing the Trump dance, and practicing his signature gesture of raising a fist.
Trump is delusional and doesn’t seem to realize the Trump circus will never be recognized as a “golden age.” That is both sad and dangerous for America.
That is why springtime for America, for many of us, involves ignoring Trump and just waiting him out. Some of us hope Democratic wins in November will emasculate Trump, rendering him incapable of inflicting additional harm on America in his last two years in office. Other Americans are working to ensure that Trump’s vision for America will never happen.
For this last group of Americans, this springtime is a bit like the Arab Spring—these Americans—these real patriots—are fighting to preserve democracy, fighting efforts to disrupt or steal the midterms, and to preserve as much progress in civil rights as they can.
It’s springtime. Trump is enjoying his, at least when he doesn’t hear Jeffrey Epstein trying to get out of the closet. The rest of us are suffering through ours to the extent that we focus on Trump and his handiwork. That is why we must, on occasion, remember to celebrate the real magic of spring.
J.E. Dean writes on politics, government, goldendoodles, and other subjects. A former counsel on Capitol Hill and public affairs consultant, Dean is an advocate for democracy, sanity, and the rule of law.
