If It Were Fiction

If we created the election stories of the past year as a novel, it would be trashed and thrashed.  Rightfully so.  The not to be believed cast of characters.  The unsophisticated barbs.  Maybe, some would say, too much sex!  The fabricated stories that just couldn’t be true.

And throw in Russian spies for some excitement, along with unsecure secret emails, a sexual pervert (no, not only Trump; did you forget Anthony Weiner?) and a strangely machiavellian FBI director,  to flush out some of the more plodding chapters. But, wait a minute. There were never any plodding chapters. OK, then, but leave the Russian spies in anyway.

After all, when we read about politics and espionage in fiction, it’s usually cosmopolitan and sophisticated.  It’s not banal.  There are real heroes, characters of strength and brilliance willing to sacrifice anything to bring down the bad guys. There’s lots of black and white, and a tad of gray. Not like real life today when it’s mostly plain black.  Black as can be. All bad guys.

We’ve rehashed this year’s election ad nauseum.  And no doubt historians will continue to analyze it for centuries.  Where did the pundits go wrong? That’s a simple answer:  everywhere! Excepting, of course, in their bank accounts.  A veritable new industry as been created: constant commenting; this is even though we now know they don’t know anything more than we know.

But what’s playing now on your TV is even more bizarre than the campaign.  Isn’t it?  You’d have thought nothing would be more impossible than Trump’s election  Bizarre is just for starters.  How about our First Man, letting the anger ruin the years of discipline.  Lashing out. At Bibi. At Israel.  At Trump.  Even, with no subtlety, at Hillary.

Witness the back and forth barbs between our formerly dignified president and our never dignified, and it hurts painfully to write this phrase, president elect.  Yeah.  If Obama had been running he says he would have won!  No way says Trump.  I’d have won.

I was once a third grade teacher.  I expected more of my pupils than I’m getting from the most powerful men in the world..  By then my kids were all about 8 years old so some degree of maturity and growth was required.  It’s 3 and 4 year olds who do the he said, she said.  I won. No, I won.  Or is it White House adults, present and future?

Then, in my novel, I’d throw in a stubborn guy named Bibi who obviously chose the wrong guy to taunt and play oneupsmanship with.  Obama made us think he was a class act.  Not any more.  It’s payback time and if it means Israel is going to endure international censure, while real democracies like Syria and Venezuela thrive ( note:  see pictures from Aleppo and compare and contrast with pictures of East Jerusalem), so be it.  The Jews obviously had it coming.  But look, heading down the Ayalon on his white horse, huffing and puffing (the man, not the horse), a mane flying in the breeze (the man, not the horse) is Donald, coming to save us.  Breathe a huge sigh of relief.  Our very own savior.  Gevalt!

To my family and friends:  this is not about the settlers.  This chapter of the novel is not about a two state solution. We should not delude ourselves.  This is about Barack Obama being furious with Bibi for humiliating him. Payback payback!

All these big powerful guys have been humiliated.  Donald.  Barack. Bibi.

And today, brace yourselves for another blow.  Kerry, a guy with Jewish roots that he forgot all about, will be pontificating.  It might not go so well for us so let’s try and be strong and brave.

It’s time to start chanting.  Ose shalom!


About the Author
Rosanne Skopp is a wife, mother of four, grandmother of fourteen, and great-grandmother of three. She is a graduate of Rutgers University and travels back and forth between homes in New Jersey and Israel. She is currently writing a family history.