Tongue biting

My father would ask me "Have you thought of...?" when I would come up with an idea he thought was stupid, crazy or impossible. 

I would go ahead and do it. 

What ever he predicted would happen, happened.

I'm sure over the years my father's tongue grew shorter and shorter from his resistance to saying "I told you so."

Walking the halls of congressional offices in Washington, DC I was with the chairman on the Oversees Republican Committee. I told him, I thought that Trump had mental problems. I didn't try and define what they were, just that he was mentally deficient. 

He poo pooed it.

"Did you read the transcript of his speech in the Washington Post today," I asked. "It is incoherent."

"He keeps his promises," the chairman said.

Over the years, I've watched Trump point something white and say it is black, something singular and proclaim it pink and change the color in subsequent speeches. 

I've seen the cruelty and hate.

I've heard unbelievable levels of ignorance.

I have seen the lies spewed by right wing news channel and politicians.

And when I pointed it out, it has fallen on the deaf ears belonging to the many I know who have a worshipful attitude toward the man.

On the 6th, I watched the capital of my birth country attacked egged on by the same man.

I don't care about the word: traitor, criminals, protestors, rampaging horde, freedom fighter _________fill in the blank. They all work.

Like my father my tongue is a bit shorter. Actions speak louder than words. Maybe my father knew that.