No matter where you go you hear it. Trum-trump. Trum-trump. Open your Facebook page. Trum-trump. Trum-trump. Go to Twitter. Trum-trump! Trum-trump! BBC news alert. First the signature tune, then a cross-fade to Trum-trump. Trum-trump. In the line at Starbucks, over the sound of machines whipping up your mochaccino, talk of his actions mock louder, Trum-trump. Trum-trump. In restaurants the dull rumble of “I have a gluten allergy can you do the burger with no bread…” have been replaced by the nauseating drone of Trum-trump. Trum-trump. Pick up the newspaper and, like the 90’s line of birthday cards that sang ‘Happy Birthday’ when you opened them, he is there screeching Trum-trump. Trum-trump. Even in my guilty escape-the-day fashion and beauty media between “How to prevent dry lizard skin,” and what Alexa Chung wore in a blizzard to NY fashion week (a cape, naturally), the lizard himself parades his line of tyranny, with his white supermodels of elitism, Bannon, DeVos, Spicer… All to the sound of Trum-trump. Trum-trump.
He has all at once become that one song they play on every radio station over and over again, the taxi TV you cannot mute, the baby who cries for the full duration of a 7-hour flight, the neighbors who have really loud sex and now you know their names as Yes-David-Yes and Don’t-Stop-Baby-Oh-No-Baby-Don’t and you wish you didn’t, the dog that howls persistently when its owners leave home and that jingle with a phone number that gets stuck in your head but you’ll never use because as much as you’d like to give a car to 1877-Kars-4-Kids you kinda need yours to drive somewhere, anywhere to escape the Trump noise.
Trum-trump. Trum-trump. It is everywhere and it cannot be muted. And we are all to blame. Between my obsession, your obsession, our well-intended vigilance and the media’s necessary – and brilliant – reporting, this 45th president has become the 45-inch record we cannot get enough of. He is officially the white noise of the nation. The obligatory muzak everywhere we go.
Now I find myself genuinely missing your selfies in fabulous places while I’m standing in the check out line at Ralphs buying tampons and a screw top wine. I miss your food posts. What are you eating these days? Are you starving? I think you might be starving. Send taco pictures dammit. How is your cat? And your baby? I miss reading about just about everything without it somehow being attached to him. Is ‘La La Land’ good because we are in need of cheering up in a Trump presidency? No it’s just a wonderful modern musical that gets a little sloppy in the middle. Go see ‘Moonlight’ and ‘I’m not your Negro’ first, they are perfect films no matter who the hell is president. I miss (mis)quoting NPR stories about coffee consumption in Rwanda and the woman who got her PhD in pastrami. I miss your gossip over dinner. I might even miss your talk of gluten allergies. Maybe.
Am I advocating we be less vigilant in talking about his actions and what actions we should take to counter him? Never. The vigilance must continue. It’s working. Am I advocating the media report less on him and more on Alexa Chung’s capes? Absolutely not. The one good thing Trump has inspired is what I believe is the golden age of journalism. They are doing a brilliant job. And we certainly don’t need more cape coverage unless it’s about a superhero who can change this mess. All I am saying is he cannot be the only record. He cannot steal all the limelight, all the airwaves, smothering anything else that is interesting, creative, inspiring or even pithy. Or cape-y.
So here’s what I’m going to be doing. For every Trump article I read I promising myself I will read an unrelated Trump article. For every comedy central or SNL skit I watch about Trump, I’m going to make myself watch something else. Or maybe I’ll just sneak in an episode of This is Us. Or a Youtube tutorial on how to prevent dry lizard skin. Something else. For every dinner I go to, I will go armed with stories of action being taken to counter the ills of this administration, not just my whining. I’m not going to ignore the record. I’m going to turn this 45-inch single into a compilation. Or at least make sure there’s a B side. Black keys amongst the white. Because I genuinely worry that the more voice we give him, the more his is the only voice. And I can’t have dry lizard skin and worry lines.
Should we try it? I’ll start. Did you read about Trump saying he will simply issue another executive order? It’s here. Did you know you can get a PhD in pastrami? Did you hear about Seattle and the city of Davis taking their money out of Wells Fargo because of its association with the Dakota Access line, to hurt where it counts on the instead of just whining over dinner? It’s here. Did you know you can prevent dry lizard skin? You can, here’s the article. Have you seen Trevor Noah go off about Nordstrom and Ivanka Trump? Really, did you see ‘I am not your Negro’? If you don’t believe me it’s good believe A.O. Scott. See? Sounds better to me already It’s not perfectly balanced. Nor should it be in these times. But it sounds better. It sounds like there is space for the rest of us. And our voices. I’m just a part-time blogger, but hopefully you hear me. Also, I’m craving a pastrami sandwich now. Yes, I will post a selfie when I find one.
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