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It’s Only Mud


When I was a kid we made mud balls in the spring. Some years provided more mud than others. We’d dry them in the sun until they were hard enough to make a quirt or a decent sized house.

Then we’d throw them at each other. We were always surprised that they hurt like hell.

The remarks flung back and forth between the participants of the Ridiculous National Convention and the people of the Diverse National Convention reminded me of those mud ball battles.

The mudslinging started early and there was plenty to be had this year.

The Donald is incredulous that he was not talked about nicely at the DNC. Especially by that “little guy” who made him really mad. He said, “I was going to hit this guy so hard his head would spin, he wouldn’t know what the hell happened.”

Well of course you’d hit the little guy Donald J. Trump. You’ve got to get the weak ones out of the way, especially a Muslim man whose son died for this country in Iraq. He was really rude to you, suggesting you had not sacrificed anything. But you Donald, are the bully in the mix. There has to be at least one. You remind me of the mean kid of my childhood neighborhood, a fair-haired boy named Howard. He went by Howdy. Howdy would wing mud balls right at our heads and laugh when we cried. If one of our balls found its mark on him he’d whine and yell, “NO FAIR!”

Then there’s Hillary, that bitch who said HORRIBLE things about you.   I don’t blame you for grabbing more balls to wing back. Let’s see, I believe she said, (in response to your proclamation in Cleveland that you alone can “fix it,”) “We’ll fix it together!” And this, “He wants to divide us from the rest of the world and each other.”   You said she lied. Did you say that you alone can fix it or not? Did you say we need a wall, or not?  Did you not say, about a black employee, “I think the guy is lazy. And it’s probably not his fault because laziness is a trait in blacks. It really is, I believe that. It’s not anything they can control.” What lies Donald Trump? Why would anyone have to lie when you provide plenty of good rocks to pack in with the mud?

At least she didn’t call you Pocahontas.

Fred Trump taught you that the strong survive; survival of the fittest.   After all, he made a large chunk of money raising rents because he named himself as the architect of the buildings, and then inflated the construction costs of his Deborah Klein properties to justify raising the rates so he could pay back a low-interest government loan. You learned from one of the best.

If you like to throw it at people Donald J., you ought to expect to get hit in return. It’s only fair.

~written by Deborah Klein, Safety Harbor resident blogger

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