Morning. Coffee sitting next to the keyboard and I am doing what I do most mornings when there isn’t something actually important to do. Checking email. Scanning Substack feeds. I checked elephantsinkroom.com and am pleased that so far today it hasn’t been hacked. On the way to my desk I checked outside — the trash man came and went and there aren’t any ominous black SUVs surrounding the property.
If this sounds a little paranoid — well. You don’t try to warn the world about Second String Donny on a daily basis without developing certain habits.
A Substack piece from Heather Delaney Reese caught my attention this morning. The title: The Worst of Trump Is Yet To Come.
She’s correct. And that title is why I’m typing.
I’ll use an analogy. Because one — they’re fun. And two — everyone is tired of endless Trump commentary and will stop reading if I don’t provide a little food for thought first.
Picture the mangy unloved neighborhood dog. The one that goes around barking and irritating everyone who can still afford hearing aids and has enough income to charge them. You know the type. A little pain in the ass that thinks it’s big and beautiful — clearly using the funhouse mirror at the county fair for its self assessment.
This dog always wags its tail and looks like it loves you. Right up until your pocket supply of biscuits runs low. Then it starts snapping. Trying to rip a hole in your jacket to get at those dwindling treats. The ones you were thinking about eating yourself because the dog snuck into your house and stole your dinner. Didn’t even thank you properly. Just took a dump on your lawn.
You know this dog. Every neighborhood has one. Loud. Annoying. Convinced it is far more impressive than reality suggests. Most days just a nuisance. A barking soundtrack to everyone’s life.
But eventually the dog pushes things too far. Bites one too many people. Steals one too many dinners. Leaves one too many surprises on one too many lawns. So somebody finally does what should have been done long ago. They put a collar on it and drive a stake into the ground.
Not through the dog. This isn’t a vampire story.
The problem is that people assume the collar solves the problem. It doesn’t.
The collar changes the problem.
A dog that spent its entire life running wherever it wanted is not suddenly going to become obedient because it found itself at the end of a rope. It’s going to pull. Snarl. Snap. Tear up everything within reach. Not because it has changed — but because it hasn’t.
Some people will organize a neighborhood meeting. Others will write strongly worded letters. A few will hold a rally and explain to the dog why biting people is wrong.
Good luck with that.
Me — I’d shorten the rope, reinforce the fence, and spend a lot less time talking about the problem than working to keep it from chewing through the garage door.
And if the people whose job it is to deal with the problem refuse to act — eventually the rest of the neighborhood starts asking why.
That question may be far more dangerous than the dog.
Comments are Disabled