We live in a world of superlatives. It's second nature to us.
Our children are the smartest, are grandchildren are the cutest. Our favorite baseball team is usually number one - at least until the season starts - and the beer we drink while cooking burgers on the grill is always better than the swill that other people buy.
As a nation, we celebrate the best. And the best of the best. We publish lists of best-selling books and then go out and buy them, keeping them on the list a lot longer. We review movies and proclaim them the best of the year (ignoring the fact that it may only be March), and we give awards to the best of the best that lead to speeches that begin “I’d like to thank the academy....
OK. I’ve done it myself. Lots of times. At least with the cutest kids stuff.
There’s a downside, too. Things that are merely bad become terrible. “That’s the worst show I ever saw,” comes to mind.
But, with most people, there is also a reality check.
For many football fans, the best quickly drops each season to “best in the division” and then shifts down to “best chance of being in the wild card playoffs.” On lots of TV reality shows, the best cook or the best designer doesn’t last too long. Just until the next show. And the best car or truck in its class doesn’t turn out to be the one that everyone buys.
And the “C” that your child will surely get some day on their report card turns out not to be the end of the world. Not getting that job you interviewed for is something people learn to accept.
In fact, most people have developed a healthy skepticism when someone claims to be the smartest or the richest or the bravest. And, yes, while I am going there, I’m not quite going in the direction you expect.
Me, and apparently half the country - give or take a few - have rejected our President’s claims to be smarter than the generals and more caring for the poor than Planned Parenthood and getting a bigger audience than Arnold did on the Apprentice. (I’ll give him that one).
And, what bothers me about our newly-elected President is that, with him, nothing is OK. Just OK.
Some stuff has to be. Things like breakfast cereal or the three year old car in my driveway. I love my two dogs, but will certainly admit that their breed may be great for me but might not be the best for everyone. Heck, when the mail sometimes comes late it doesn’t make my postal carrier the worst in the world.
Now, I expect a little hype on the people President Trump has named to serve on his cabinet, But, how could all of those people turn out to be the best and the brightest and the smartest. Especially when we all know that President Kennedy trademarked “best and the brightest” decades ago. (I would hate to think the Trump camp would sink to plagiarism.)
All his hotels and golf courses can’t be the best, and all the places he has leased his name to certainly aren’t all the most wonderful in the world.
By the way, why has he never looked around the Trump Empire and told us which hotel and which golf course is really the best one? Would that make all the others second-rate?
No. What I thought was just a little annoyance about our new President - his vocabulary - is turning out to be a really big thing. Now his speeches and public comments are generally short and direct. No soaring heights of phrasing or glowing images. Which isn’t all bad. Ernest Hemingway was a great writer, and his language was just as direct.
What’s missing from Trump Talk is the living heart of his ideas. Ronald Reagan gave us a shining city on a hill that would be an inspiration to all mankind. Daniel Patrick Moynihan gave us so many wonderful visions that it would be hard to count. All we get from Trump is “Great.” And he never explains why great for him is great for me. The same way that members of Congress don’t exactly have to go out and buy health insurance on the open market. They have a great plan - actually they can take any one of 57 options in the Gold Tier government health plan available to them.
But back to Trump Talk. In all the things I have heard from him, the world is divided between the very good and the very bad. Australia has a refugee policy - it’s great or it’s terrible. Marco Rubio is running against him, he’s the worst. Stops running, and he suddenly has a wonderful future.
It kind of rules good old simple competence out of the equation. You know, the auto mechanic who knows how to fix your car, or the teacher who educates your child, or the farmer who grows your food. Or the negotiators who worked out a trade agreement covering literally thousands of items. Just simple competence, the kind we need every day in more ways than we can count.
It is a huge, huge part of living. Not everyone and everything can be the best. Or the worst.
Now, we all know there is a very thin line between love and hate. But, just how comfortable can it be knowing that you are a really bright star in the Trump sky, and there is only one place to go from there.
Just ask Arnold. You know, the one who was a terrible governor and has lousy ratings.
No comments :
Post a Comment