There I was, feeling a rush of self-righteous satisfaction, when my lovely spouse had to go and call off the confetti.
“How disappointing,” she sighed at news reports about America’s Favorite Neofascist and his alleged affairs with porn star Stormy Daniels and former Playboy Playmate Karen McDougal.
Where I celebrated accountability, she saw big-picture irony: “Of all the rotten things that this man has done to divide our nation — election lies, conspiracy theories, paranoia, anger, vengeance — this is what’s on trial before November?”
“You have a point,” I mumbled as my overfilled balloon deflated its way back to Earth.
Indeed — serious as it is — the “hush money” case doesn’t seem to threaten the national soul quite like charges relating to insurrection and election fraud. Even so, it’s the only case likely to go to trial before the election so it matters a lot.
Everyone who’s paying attention should understand by now that this trial is not about No. 45 cheating on Melania. Rather, it’s about alleged falsifications of business records tied to hush-money payments made to Daniels before the 2016 election.
In all, 34 counts, which explains why some people need “fixers” in the first place.
Each criminal count carries a maximum sentence of four years, meaning the presumptive Republican nominee could spend meaningful playtime in the slammer. Prison time could also cost him his right to vote but not his right to re-occupy the White House.
Who knows what any verdict will do? Relatively recent convictions for business fraud and defamation of character haven’t exactly derailed the train.
Still, you’d think the popular inmate’s campaign managers would really have to think outside the brig. For starters, they might want to ask the warden if MAGA rallies could be held via video call or some such thing.
Reading the tea leaves, jail time is probably less likely than probation, leaving any scenarios about life-behind-bars for a former president to the imagination.
For her part, Daniels has been rather hard-core in describing romps with a future wannabe “dictator for a day.” McDougal says that she holds no ill will and that it’s not about the politics. In an interview on CNN, she apologized to Melania. “What can you say except, ‘I’m sorry’?” she said. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t want it done to me.”
That sounds like the Golden Rule, which surely can be found in the Donald’s for-profit “God Bless the USA” Bible (Flag-draped in the spirit of Christian nationalism! Only $59.99!).
As a helpful suggestion, perhaps the GOP’s demigod would want to create a Revised King Don version reflecting his own Me-First theology: “Do unto others whatever it takes to win earthly power and profit for oneself.”
Regrets aside, McDougal is a good Republican who voted for the guy who she thought loved her.
“I was just feeling so guilty,” she explained. “It was just digging inside me.”
No such thing digs at the GOP. In fact, the “Party of T” and McDougal seem like two peas in a pod, each having blindly mistaken “love” for an empty, fornicating fling with an amoral, transactional narcissist.
So sad.
Meanwhile, the former president is racking up impressive scores in the popularity polls. For that, we can thank public amnesia, misinformation, moral ambivalence and blind obedience.
Me? I’m just thanking my lovely spouse simply for bringing me back to Earth.
Michael Sondergard is a long-ago Press-Citizen editor and a retiree from the University of Iowa.
This article originally appeared on Des Moines Register: Donald Trump’s hush money trial sets off a roller coaster of feelings