Revisiting Nixon, Hauntingly

I WAS IN HIGH SCHOOL when Richard Nixon ran for reelection, and, I confess, I supported his reelection. What can I say? I was seventeen years old. My friend made me do it. "Reelect the President!" was our rallying cry, as I recall. Pretty catchy, don't you think? it went well with "Go eagles!". I like Nixon because from the beginning of his campaign in 1968 he promised to get the United States out of viet Nam, honorably, he emphasized, and as a teenaged war protester wannabe I was down with it. Plus, Nixon, liberal by today's republican standards, was all bout the environment,,,,,,, having signed into existence the Environmental Protection Agency, and the Clean Air Act, Clean water Act, at a time when Lake Eerie and the rivers which flow into were catching on fire, burning with the pollution with which the were filled. The air in ever major American city was barely breathable, as cars sans catalytic converters belched leaded gasoline fumes, unfiltered, and the modern environmental movement was emerging. We had an "ecology club" at school. I joined, and spent a weekend or two picking up trash in local public park debauchery hangouts, with the added bonus that I got to do something interesting during stud hall. Nixon landslide McGovern, who was a perfect candidate for me, although I was oblivious to the fact at that time; I was vote for him today. Today's version is Bernie sanders, so, there is still hope. All the dirty tricks, so well known now, I new nothing about in November, 1972, nor did anybody else. The iconic Watergate bungled burglary had occurred in June, but was largely ignored by the public. Only, if only we (I) had but known....Standing in the shadows of Nixon, like a shadowm the Nixon tattoo already on his back, was a young Roger Stone, egging on Richard to become "trickie Dick", as if the slime ball needed any extra encouragement. I graduated in 1973, spent the summer of seventy three playing tennis, partying, anticipating college, and watching the Watergate hearings, day after boring day, on fuzzy black and white television, and, belatedly, began to grow disgusted with the president. When I first heard the term "money laundering" I literally thought it had something to do with, I red facedly confess, stuffing bills into a washing machine and waiting for the spin cycle, literally. what can I say? I was barely eighteen. Sam Ervin's prototypical southern drawl, Howard Baker's 'what did the president know, and when did he know it?", and there, at the table, off to the side, unnoticed and unknown, twenty eight year old, frizzy haired Hillary Rodham, ever the assiduous staff assistant, undoubtedly plotting her future rise to power. And so, we have come full circle. Another republican sleazebag in office, surrounded by encroaching corruption, ready for indictment, impeachment, resignation, or whatever, with Roger Stone again a member of the supporting cast. Roger Stone, like a recurring nightmare forty five years after the fact, like the Donald himself, decade after decade smiling from the cover of national Enquirer with his latest trophy wife, simply...will...not…..go... away...unless and until the legal system manages to sting out his trial, inevitable conviction, and consequent incarceration until after Trump leaves office, if he ever does. Give credit to Nixon; he went quietly into the night, without taking to twitter and rallying his supporters into the streets, as you fear you know who might and most likely will do, all too soon. The very thought of the Trumpster quietly deep sixing his demise in some back alley dumpster, unnoticed, is, well, simply too damned good to ever be true, in this cold, unjust world.