The View From The Balcony: “Trump’s Shoes Matter”

I was eight years old and in the third grade when, on November 22, 1963, President John Fitzgerald Kennedy was assassinated. I recall with tears in my eyes how, when the announcement that JFK was dead came over the school intercom, most of my classmates cheered. Even at my young age I was taken aback.

I remember when JFK’s brother, Robert Fitzgerald Kennedy, was assassinated on June 5, 1968.

I remember that on March 15, 1972, Presidential candidate George Wallace was shot and paralyzed.

I remember when Charles Manson “family” member, Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme, attempted to assassinate President Gerald Ford.

I remember when John Hinckley, Jr. shot President Ronald Reagan in an assassination attempt on March 30, 1981.

I remember other foiled attempts to kill our presidents through the years, as well as many attempted and completed assassinations of multiple leaders in the Civil Rights movement and the Anti-Vietnam War protests. Now another Presidential assassination attempt is seared into my memory.

I’ve never made any bones about my disdain for Donald Trump’s morals and policies and I won’t now, but no political candidate should be assassinated without there being a clear and present danger, no matter their reprehensible behavior and beliefs, so I join with the many who find the assassination attempt on Donald J. Trump disgraceful.

Of the assassination attempt, former First Lady Melania Trump wrote in part: “Let us not forget that differing opinions, policy, and political games are inferior to love. Our personal, structural, and life commitment—until death—is at serious risk. Political concepts are simple when compared to us, human beings.

We are all humans, and fundamentally, instinctively, we want to help one another. American politics are only one vehicle that can uplift our communities. Love, compassion, kindness and empathy are necessities.”

(It would appear that Melania Trump does in fact have a brain, a heart, and the nerve.)

Maybe ”The Donald” read Melania’s letter, though I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. Assuming he did read it, did it make a difference? By his acceptance speech at the Republican National Convention it didn’t. Early on he gave lip service to its concepts, then returned to his vitriol. The most insulting and sickening thing to me was when he kissed the uniform of the firefighter, Corey Comperatore, who was killed in the assassination attempt. (Did you notice that Comperatore’s name was misspelled on the uniform?) The whole exploitive, theatrical moment turned my stomach. As Vern Gosdin wrote in one of his songs, “If you’re gonna do me wrong, do it right.”

Trump also claimed that G_d was on his side. Shouldn’t it be the other way around with Trump being on G_d’s side? Check out Bob Dylan’s “With God on Our Side.” Dylan masterfully laid out what blind violence can happen when we claim that G_d is on our side.

Multiple news commentators and reporters have said that this is, is not, but could be a “Kumbaya Kum Ba Yah” moment. “Kumbaya” is a song of African American origin that was a plea for divine help. Slaves sang it as a prayer, “Come by here, my Lord, come by here.”

As did many others of my generation, we learned that song around campfires and found a spiritual connection with each other and something bigger than ourselves. It was a prayer for comfort and peace. We often held hands as we sang with the deepest sincerity in our voices. We could use a lot of Kumbaya moments now.

According to a transcript of the first minute or so in the melee’ following the assassination attempt as posted by CNN Secret Service agents were trying to whisk the former President away. Four times Trump said to them, “Let me get my shoes!” Wisely the Secret Service did not let him get his shoes. I suspect that he can afford a new pair anyway. (Had Trump been wearing cowboy boots when he was shot, maybe he wouldn’t have lost his shoes.)

Instead of freaking out over not having his shoes, I wish instead Trump had asked, “Was anyone else hurt?” But he didn’t. In the end, Trump’s Shoes Matter.

…and that’s the View from The Balcony.

Randy Weeks is a Licensed Professional Counselor, a Certified Shamanic Life Coach, an ordained minister, a singer-songwriter, an actor, and a writer. While he loves his cowboy boots, he also likes walking barefoot in the grass. Randy may be reached at: randallsweeks@gmail.com.