Trump and Veteran's Day

So today is Veteran's Day, and it's been three days since Donald Trump won the presidency.  Dr. Barry is so smart -- he and I were drinking at 94th AeroSquadron, watching the planes come and go, and he remarked how concerned he was that Hillary was campaigning in Michigan -- shouldn't that be a gimme state for the Dems? Turned out it wasn't, and the Donald pulled off the big upset win.

Wifey is still upset. I have moved on. Ever the optimist, I see things this way: I'm a rich white guy who was willing to have a President whose policies would cost me more in taxes, to have a more fair and just country for minorities and the poor.  Well, many of the minorities couldn't be bothered to go vote for their interests, and many of the poor whites were dumb enough to think that a billionaire who was born a millionaire will be the guy to act in their interests. So my family will just have to "suffer" with lower taxes, probably, and cuts in social services we don't even use. The electorate has spoken...

D2 got caught up in the absurd protests Wednesday night, in NYC. She voted for HRC and despises Trump, but realizes it's over, and works many hours, and just wants to be allowed to make it home after long work hours without annoyance.

My true Leftie friends, especially on FaceBook (tm) , can't seem to move on. Whatever. Life goes on whether you win or lose, and to dwell on the negative seems silly to me.

Meanwhile, a day honoring those who truly deserve it goes on with little notice, except for closing schools and the stock market.

It's funny how my generation is so non military. I have only two friends, Kenny and John, who served -- in the Navy and Air Force. Kenny is actually a war veteran -- he was the flight surgeon on an aircraft carrier during the Gulf War. But these fellows are in the minority -- the result of the end of the draft.

When my parents used to gather with their contemporaries, almost all of the men were veterans -- WW II, like my Dad. So Veteran's Day for my generation is a thankful time, but we don't intimately relate.

I always think about my Dad's history. He was pushing dress delivery carts in lower Manhattan, in December of 1941, when everything stopped and everyone gathered around radios to hear FDR announce the attack on Pearl Harbor. He knew immediately he'd be drafted, and he was, a few months later. He was 22. He served nearly four years, and returned from the Service to start his life with my Mom, back in the Bronx.

When I was 22, I started law school, an annoyance, but not anything like the army. At 25 I started my life with Wifey, and we'll be married thirty years, come January. My life wouldn't be possible without the Service of my Dad and his generation. I never forget that.

Meanwhile, closer to home, we have D1's fiance Joey and his family coming over tonight. We're going to host them, and get to meet Joey's aunt and uncle, and their spouses -- Joey says they've been like other sets of parents to him.

Wifey set a beautiful table, and we have food coming in from Lots of Lox. Wifey asked Miriam, our long time housekeeper, to come over to serve.

Joey's aunt gave him and D1 a bottle of champagne for their engagement -- it's over 40 years old. We plan to pop the cork, in honor of Joey and D1. I'll pour martinis.  It ought to be a grand night.

Again, made possible by the service of men like my Dad. As for Trump, lately I can't care less...