It seems spring is the time of year people publish articles and blogs about all the things they wish they’d known or did, or wish you to know or do. My email is the unwilling recipient of a tidal wave of titles from twenty and thirty-somethings touting 9 Things I Wish Someone Had Told Me About My 30s, Things I Wish I Knew at 25, and 25 Things You Must Know By The Time You Turn 30. Sites like Medium and Bloglovin rain thoughtful, provocative, timeless pearls of wisdom past my spam filter, filling the folder titled, “Emails from the Ninth Circle of Hell,” where a rule designed to keep them out of my inbox reroutes them until the highlighted unread-email indicator becomes sufficiently annoying as to require action.
The Little Tramp and the Little Trump both entered public view with a bang and continued to entertain long after their climax.
Following the Trump Twitter feed allows me to predict the future. It’s true. Simply by following the tweets of a man who a year ago barely registered a blip on my information radar, I am able to predict what will happen in the coming hours, days, and weeks with surprising accuracy. It’s actually a little scary at times.
I recently attained enlightenment. At 7:46 PM UTC on 3 January 2017, 48 yrs, 236 days, 8 hrs, 15 mins, 31 seconds after exiting the womb and starting the search—I was progressive at a very young age—enlightenment descended over me like warm rays of sunshine. I know this because I tweeted as much seconds after the event—minus the colorful prose.
Twas the night before Inauguration and all through the House, every creature was stirring, including Trump’s spouse.