Fathers, Sons & Trump

I was once like you are now & I know it's not easy. To be calm when you've found something going on. But take your time, think a lot. Why think of everything you've got - Cat Stevens, "Father and Son"

IT ALL STARTED HERE

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It's not time to make a change
Just relax, take it easy
You're still young, that's your fault
There's so much you have to know
Find a girl, settle down
If you want you can marry
Look at me, I am old, but I'm happy

It was a long day, one of many long days. And I couldn’t wait to see the most adorable kid alive.

I was driving back from to my home in exurbs (quick aside: never again. Every Cro-Mag and pre-MAGA you can avoid is worth giving up 500 sq ft) from my job as Comms Director for a state figure.

I was tired. Didn’t love the job. But none of this went through my head as I drove home that day, and pretty much any other.

Our family had stopped off in Columbus, on the way to settling in Cincinnati, near family, after a decade in DC. I’d run a group that with a guerrilla-war, paid-and-earned-media campaign, won back the state house for Dems in 2008.

I was ready to go, but was asked to take a job to politically prepare a statewide figure for a run for office. It was a favor, and it was whole climb the ladder thing, so I said yes. As long as it was short term—there it lived up to it’s promise and then some, roughly 20 Scaramuccis I believe.

But on this day, like every other one, driving home from that job, all I could think about as I got closer to home was a daily ritual. I’d pull into the garage, and a blur of kinetic energy with the a smile that actively melted suns would bounce towards my car and release, with a pulmonary eruption, “dadddddddy!!!”

It was my best moment of the day. Every single day.

l think of this as I prepare to move that onetime little boy—with the glow of an anglerfish; now a brilliant, confident, charismatic young man who uses those garage lungs to belt out ballads as a rock band lead singer—into college later this week.

This is gonna be a hard one folks.

And how does the orange goon factor into all this? We’ll get there.

So I remember it all. Every plastic light saber duel where he mauled me with an assault worthy of…Darth Maul. The moment he got more excited for a friend on his middle school soccer team who scored a goal than he ever did for himself.

The first time I saw him play the drums in a school recital in 3rd grade. The first time he moved up to the front as lead singer of a rock band about 5 years ago.

When he slipped off a wall in the snow and fell five feet in The-Matrix-slow motion and I thought my world could end. Skiing. Karate. Swimming. Traveling. Always lighting up a room when he walks in it, with a wit to match the radiometry.

When he decided at a Vegas show just pre-COVID that Aerosmith would forever be his favorite band (they still are). Now I watch as he prepares go off, and I don’t wanna miss a thing.

I can tell he’s excited, full of wonder, but I can also feel the apprehension in my boy, because his life is changing so much—and he knows, as do I, it will never be the same.

I was once like you are now, and I know that it's not easy
To be calm when you've found something going on
But take your time, think a lot
Why, think of everything you've got
For you will still be here tomorrow, but your dreams may not

That doesn’t mean there won’t be many amazing moments ahead.

But that time when he relied fully on me and his mom as his protectors, and I felt like a super-human knowing I’d kill or die to fulfill this role (so, more Christopher Reeves than Dean Cain), is done. As is our family unit, including his younger brother, living together.

I can tell he and I are trying to come to terms with it, as excited as we both are for his future…One of my best friends will no longer be here every day to watch a movie or listen to music or go for a walk. And just thinking about it makes plunge pools of my eyes.

Now there's a way and I know that I have to go away
I know I have to go

Admittedly, this is all that much harder because of the feeling I—we—failed him this past decade. We put a cruel, cockamamie, candy-ass in the White House. Twice.

Someone who showed that maybe there is no such thing as justice. No winning in this life by caring about others. No price to pay for myriad crimes.

This same jingoistic jack-a-lantern has taken our society to the edge, put us all on edge, dangled us off the edge. Heightened our worst traits. What Trump has done—as I talked about in my piece on the difference between life in Italy and here in the U.S.—is he’s taken us far further down the road to perdition.

A road that began with Reaganomics, Iraq and a McConnellized judiciary that made legalized bribery the real Leaders of the House and Senate. Now, threats float in the air like drones waiting for an order to attack.

Unidentified ICE terrorists and active shooters are out there. On top of the physical and psychological loss of COVID.

I know my son will pull through, he has already shown a knack for mastering this world. And I am confident we’ll always be close.

We’ll have fun adult-ing, as I love having a drink with him in a way I used to love watching him fly over a snowbank on a sled. That we’ll develop a new rhythm to our new lives, but as we’ve always done, we'lI figure out the the perfect beat.

So, as much as it feels like someone depressurized my chest cavity, I know this is how life goes—we fly forward in the blink of an eye. I can’t wait to see all he sees and does.

That real fatherhood is not about trapping your children, but preparing them to be fully-formed responsible humans without you. Setting aside insecurities to embrace selflessness. Seeing them not as assets on a balance sheet, but independent beings to thrive.

This is what the cul-de-sac clementine could never learn or teach—and why the entire Trump klan…uh, clan, is a mess.

In the meantime, maybe I can do more to remove this particular problem plaguing his generation and our entire planet. The living answer to the question: What would a colostomy bag say if it could talk?

Yes, it’s time we legally, politically and in every other sense ended the reign of the mango mook. We have enough to deal with in this life without…that thing.

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THIS WEEK ON AMPED UP!

Quite a show this week! David Shuster co-hosted as usual, and used a word that rhymes w bro-knob to explain Trump’s Putin meeting. And we were off to the races! Malcolm Nance was our guest, and he’s a Navy guy, so salty talk comes easy. And I grew up in late 70s/80s New York City. The NY of Warriors and Death Wish…so let’s say this show took a hysterical turn 🤣

We also handled serious issues; the war in Ukraine, Epstein, etc. A Must Watch, my friends!!