You know the feeling, right? You’re on some crazy carnival ride that’s twisty and turny with lots of ups and downs and loop de loops, putting you upside down and sideways. The kind of ride where you get so dizzy and disoriented, you just feel a nearly overwhelming need to upchuck.
Sometimes you’ll laugh your behind off. Other times you’re teetering on the edge of being overwhelmed with fear.
The 2016 election’s been a lot like one of those crazy carnival rides. It’s at least promising to stay that way right up to the time winners are declared on Tuesday night, and the way just the presidential race has gone, the ride might not even stop then.
After all, one orangeish presidential contender even said for the world to see that he’d keep people guessing on whether he’d concede if he didn’t come out ahead.
Oh, someone, please, for the love of all that’s good and decent and holy, for cryin’ out loud, stop this crazy ride! I wanna get off now!!! Enough! Or I’m gonna hurl!
My lovely wife and I have already done our civic duty. We sat down on the same day in the comfort of our couch with black ink pens in hand and filled out our mail-in ballots.
The next day, during some break time from my job, I found a convenient U.S. Postal Service mailbox and dropped those ballots in, with a feeling of accomplishment and pride. Just a couple of days ago I took an extra step and checked online at my county clerk’s office just to make sure those ballots had been received.
Who did I vote for? You’d like to know, wouldn’t you? Well, I’m going to take a page from the orangeish candidate’s playbook and “keep you in suspense.” I could throw you off even more by honestly saying I was a strong Bernie Sanders supporter, and I didn’t appreciate Debbie Wasserman Schultz’s games during the Democratic primaries which helped hand a nomination to Hillary Clinton. And, no, I’m not throwing my vote to Gary Johnson when he comes across looking like an idiot by not knowing what Aleppo is, among other zany stunts Johnson’s pulled.
Here, I’ll let HBO’s John Oliver pretty much sum up my view on this election’s third party presidential candidates, including Jill Stein.
So, who did I pick for president? For all you know, it could have been Joe Exotic.
One thing you can take to the bank, though. There is no way in hell I’d vote for the orangeish candidate. That’s one candidate that truly makes me want to barf out a multicolored rainbow, one candidate I’m so sick of that I’m doing everything in my power not to even mention his name.
The reasons why I’m sick of the orange-tinted candidate increase by the day. Why, just in the last couple of days we’ve seen how this (lack of) character can take a speech where the sitting President can be interrupted mid-speech by a protester, strongly urge the crowd to show the protester some respect while having to raise his voice over the noise, and have the tangerine guy turn it into the President shouting at the protester.
But this one item is less than a tiny blip on the radar screen when it comes to why the Tang-tinged one can make me laugh and turn my stomach at the same time. Just like a wild carnival ride.
And then comes the fear. Just like the face of that kid on the roller coaster.
I fear a candidate who can pull the kind of strings that it takes to get the chief of the Federal Bureau of Investigation to ignore things like the Hatch Act, guidance from his superiors, and common sense in general by getting voters riled up by Anthony Weiner emails that probably have nothing whatsoever to do with the grapefruit-colored candidate’s opponent in order to try and influence the election in the final days, making puppets out of people like Rudy Giuliani and Jason Chaffetz in the process.
I fear the logic of followers of the apricot-colored one — people who once feared that the Soviet Union would swallow the world up whole, but now seem to totally ignore the growing evidence that the flame-colored egomaniac they feel so great about has been playing a bit of patty-cake with Russian leaders.
I’ve never been a fan of Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban, but that’s changing when I listen to what this truly successful billionaire has to say about the citrus-stained one.
“A (Vladimir) Putin, or an (Julian) Assange, would say to him, ‘Donald, if you do this, I will give you $20 billion.’ What is 20 billion to them? What is 30 billion?” Cuban asked. “For them, that is nothing. If Donald Trump, who rips off people for thousands — do you think he is going to do what is right for the country, or do you think he is going to take the money?
“Do you think he has the temperament to do the right thing? Do you think he has the fortitude to do the right thing? Do you think he cares about you or his bank account?”
Anyone who searches for the truth and looks beyond the candy-colored one’s cons and knows his history is awfully nervous right about now. Just as frightened as they’d be if they were riding on the wildest damn roller coaster in the world.
Wild rides can make us laugh, or turn us a ghostly shade of white with fear.
Hell of an election, isn’t it?
I can’t wait ’til the ride’s over, and the joker’s fans give up any foolish notion of a real civil war should things not go their way.