Half way through January and I'm still finding my way into the year. All the best to Donald Trump.
We're half way through January and I'm still finding my way into the year. I still feel under the weather but I still feel connected to the rest of the world. The arms and legs are still functioning, but the viral infection is a bit of a drag at the moment. The cough is still hanging around rather like an unwelcome impostor, the last person to leave a party. I do feel flat and listless at the moment but the desire and willingness to engage with the day is hearteningly present.
But I've every confidence in my immediate health and by the end of the week, all being well, I'd like to think that, given a certain amount of effort and perseverance I will get there. January is renowned for its back pains, viruses and coughing fits. We all feel poorly and down in the mouth. But once all those debilitating sneezes and sniffles have gone, I should be well on the road to recovery.
The world outside looks quite sad and sullen. January is like a long, winding and meandering road that seems to go on for ever. How often are motorists encouraged to take a break in case they feel sleepy? At the moment it feels as if we've all been driving indefinitely and are desperate to stop at a motorway cafe or service station. If we drive for long enough we'll probably find a hard shoulder or a bite to eat. How your body feels as if it's in a permanent state of rebellion. You know you're feeling fine but deep inside you there are demonstrations and marches on the streets of London. Half of you feels perfect but the other half just wants to wave the white flag of surrender.
Anyway I'm sure that at some point during the following week I'll be fit and raring to go. So hopefully it'll be time to dig out the hiking boots perhaps, take in a safari holiday in Africa, swim the Atlantic, sail around the world a couple of times and then pop into the Seychelles for a month or so. Hardly the most rigorous schedule but you have to be proactive. I'm sure my doctor would thoroughly recommend it. Oh I mustn't forget. What about a month or so in the Trump towers hotel. Now there's a popular subject at the moment.
Yes everybody. We're just days away from the inauguration of Donald Trump as the next President of the United States. Now there's a sentence I didn't think I'd ever utter in any context. Even now it still sounds like the latest Hollywood movie blockbuster. No-one thought it could ever happen and for most of America this must be Apocalypse Now or maybe not. Are there any Hollywood producers and directors brave enough to put their money where the mouths are? It has all the classic makings of an Oscar nominated movie but which actor would have the courage of their convictions to be Trump?
At the moment the vacuum cleaners are in full hoovering mode, chairs are being arranged and America is about to take a sharp intake of breath. The whole inauguration ceremony is a painstakingly military operation and Trump is dry cleaning his well tailored suit, ironing his shirts and dusting himself down. He will, of course, look immaculate on the day but whether America is ready is quite another thing.
And still Trump wakes up every day and still the ridiculous remarks pour out of the man like a raging river. Trump is surrounded by his own cast of soap opera and Hollywood surrealism. Yesterday he met our very own Michael Gove, a Conservative politician who probably deserves a medal. What on earth did they have in common with each other and what did they find to talk about? And yet maybe this could be the kind of relationship the Americans were dreaming about.
Gove is the well educated Etonian with a stiff upper British lip and reserve while dear old Donald Trump is brash, rash and a bit on the tactless side to put it bluntly. Gove is politically astute, well read and an experienced campaigner while poor Donald is probably wondering what's happened to him in the last six months or so. It defies any kind of credibility and those Hollywood script writers are still scratching their heads in bemusement.
Still the fact remains that Donald Trump is poised to become the commander in chief and leader of a vast country with so many tensions and uncertainties that even Trump must be questioning his sanity. There are so many complex race issues and foreign policy dilemmas that if there are any psychiatrists in the house perhaps Donald may be tempted to make an appointment with one of them. Still I feel sure that he'll find coping mechanisms because that's what struggling American presidents are supposed to do anyway.
But you've got to give the man a chance. It isn't as if the man has committed a heinous crime or broken into a bank. We know he owns those garish and outlandish hotels, hotels that look like something out of an episode of Dynasty or even Dallas. The feeling remains that the country is about to wake up in a Disney amusement park next Saturday morning. But with that blond mop of hair and that extraordinary family behind him the nation will privately chuckle for a couple of hours before just accepting their fate.
Your mind goes back to Ronald Reagan and that 1980s outpouring of love. Reagan had a considerable political background behind him but if you'd told him that he'd be President in his lifetime he'd have probably slapped you on the back and told you to live in the real world. But it all came to pass and in one huge explosion of populist support, the whole of America feel deeply in love with him. In fact they were so besotted with the man that maybe they felt as if every day was a birthday. But there were always underlying reservations about Regan as a President because the man occasionally looked quite distant from outside events and sadly baffled by ill health in later life.
For a 70 plus Donald Trump all of the dynamics and omens look dramatically far removed from the golden days of Reagan. There's no Margaret Thatcher to ride about on horses with although he does have a female counterpart in Theresa May to confide in if all goes haywire. Trump has none of the thoroughbred pedigree of a Reagan who always looked as if he knew what he was doing. Trump is a man, at the moment, still in the dark without a torch and if he does bump into a piece of furniture he may need to get up again quickly and hit the ground running.
So now we're all ready for the great Trump revolution. None of us can even begin to imagine what the future holds for America. For all Reagan's faults and foibles, he was still the boss, a strong and assertive man who stuck by his principles through thick and thin. From here in Britain we can only gaze across the pond and wish our American friends the very best. These look like worrying times not only for the whole world but for a America that can only sit in judgment.
At this moment in time there are the inevitable sniggers and sceptical sneers in the air. We would like to think that all is well and that everything turns out in much the way that it did for Judy Garland all those decades ago. There was a Yellow Brick Road for Ms Garland and by some wondrous miracle, the world turned into a Technicolour fantasyland. But, for Trump the hope must be the Tin Man keeps well away from him. It's a tough world out there and may get a whole lot tougher before it gets any better. All the best Donald. We're with you all the way.
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