Speaking Trumpese

DONALD TRUMP was explicit, to the degree that he ever can be.No bones about it. He is the greatest current president in American history. This, objectively, is beyond dispute. Unmentioned is that he is also the worst current president in American history, and perhaps most fortunate of all, the only current president in American history. That's just the way he talks. When George H.W. Bush proudly proclaimed the United States of America the greatest nation in the entire country, we scratched our heads, read between the lines, consulted our dictionairies of modern American Bushisms, and finally, perhaps somewhat miraculously, got his point.That's what we are forced into doing with our modern Republican presidents. The eloquence of the self educated Abraham Lincoln is a relic of bygone days. People in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries had good penmanship, they spelled correctly, andwhen they wrote and spoke, they made some semblance of good sense.That's what happens when paper is dearly expensive,andinorderto put pen to paper it isnecessary to dip pen in ink,over and over again.You make the msot of what you have. We seem to have reached the point, in all our affluent surplus, where we can afford to make the least. Donald Trump would be eligible for membership in the Yogi Berra association of butchered verbal expression, were it not for the fact that Yogi was a genuinely good guy, irresistably loveable,and of the highest moral quality, the precise opposite of the reprobate who dares think of himself, laughably, as a great leader.When you repeat Yogi-isms, you smile with love and admiration. When you look to Bush - either one will do - you roll your eyes, and wonder why and what if. When you think about Ronald Reagan, another master at the art of English language butchery, you cntempate his mental decline in his second term, much like that of Joe Biden during his first. But there is something far more sinister and lesss endaring about the way Trump's makes a mockery of coherent self expression. It aint over till its over, it gets late early at Yankee Stadium. Nobody ever eats at that restaurant because its always crowded. These are the stuff of beloved,lengendary linguistic abusers. Both Bushes had their sometimes charming style of spoken idiocy. Trump's word salads are of a different order and magnitude altogether. For one thing, they seem to go on endlessly, like a minor league outfielder kicking the ball all over the left center field gap while runners circle the bases in droves. They go on, and on, extended beyond mere phrases, sentences, or paragraphs. Like a fumble that nobody seems to want to recover, or a loose basketball rolling in slow motion, going out of bounds while ten tall people scramble and dive like gophers into holes, canceling each other out in abject futility. Trump does more than merely innocently, humorously torching good grammer and usage. He garbles volumes. You can, and it has been done,put a Bush quote of the day on a tear off calander, and help people to a mmorning giggle over coffee and donuts. With Trump the temptations tends more toward a head shake and sigh of resignation.True, his gaffs are humorous. All the basics are there. But when you sort out the substance,what there is of it, from the flotsam and jetsome, you go away feeling hollow, somehow cheated. We sole conolation is remindful of what my sister says about her cooking: "It aint good,but there's a lot of it". And, one might assume, a lot more to come.