Fallout from the debate
Last Thursday evening, I joined a few million Americans who poured an adult beverage, sat on the couch, and watched a pair of old dudes argue.
Supposedly, they were on stage trying to convince me (and us) to vote for them in November.
For once, there were no spin doctors spinning, no pundits yakking, no pollsters prophesying, and no experts telling us with a straight face the opinion they were paid to offer.
Well, you watched it. What was your take? Who won the debate?
My answer is we did. For once, the American people watched the two principal candidates stand on an empty stage without notes, teleprompters, aides, and cheering suck-ups. It was the real deal.
For those who care about these things, here is my take.
They are both old. They look old, they act old, and, in a TV debate carried over all the networks, they both lived up to their ages. For the record, Grandpa Donnie is 78. Grandpa Joe is 81.
The incumbent started slow. He stuttered, he looked like he was lost in a fog. As the 90-minute event progressed, he mixed up his facts, he lost his train of thought. And may have sunk his own campaign.
I know how he felt, for I have noticed my contemporaries (sorry boys) and I are not as sharp as we once were.
By contrast, the challenger was strong-voiced as he began his usual rap that the incumbent was responsible for everything up to and including the wars in Ukraine and Israel, and how he would fix it all with a wave of his hand and stroke of his pen.
The debate moderators tried to steer the conversations to topics pollsters say we all care about. But the challenger was having none of it. When asked what he would do about inflation, he ducked the question, pivoting to the border crisis. When asked about social security, he skipped back to the border. He gave the same answer about climate change. No matter the topic, his answers returned to the border, border, border, and how it was the other guy's fault.
The challenger's rambling raps seemed to shake the incumbent out of his fog. Facing his rival, he said: “You are lying. You are exaggerating. You are a sore user and making it all up.”
After a few moments, the incumbent took the gloves off and attacked his rival as being the only convicted felon on the stage, the guy a judge ruled molested a woman and a bankrupt businessman convicted of business fraud.
The challenger, pictured on a split screen, rolled his eyes as he attacked the troubled son of his rival as a convicted felon. And, he said, his legal problems inflated his poll numbers and skyrocketed his political donations.
That night, we watched an astounding public political accusation unlike any other in the history of American politics as the incumbent charged his rival with having sex with a porn star while his wife was pregnant. "You have the morals of an alley cat,” he said.
The challenger replied: “I did not have sex with a porn star.”
When the moderators tried to steer the conversation to the riotous events of Jan. 6, the challenger blamed his rivals for refusing to help the Capitol police battle the insurrectionists who sacked the building, ransacked the Senate and House chambers, and tore up Congressional offices.
The incumbent reminded the audience that we all saw the riots on TV. If you tuned in seeking reasoned arguments on the key issues of the day and possible solutions, you were disappointed.
Instead, you witnessed the rambling thoughts of two men with a combined age of 179.
In the following days, some Democrats voiced their concerns about the incumbent’s poor performance. Newspaper editorial boards and Beltway pundits piled on, urging him to drop out. That call is not up to pundits, editors and politicos. It is up to the man himself. Stay tuned.
Meanwhile, we were treated to a unique political drama.
For example, as we hoped for answers and solutions, we were treated with two old dudes bragging about golf as one candidate claimed he won two club championships and could hit his driver a long way. Oh yeah, said the other, my handicap is lower than yours, and once I got it down to a six.
As we seek answers to vital problems facing our beloved nation and the world, we were presented with a choice between two old duffers standing on the national stage arguing about who had the better golf game.
Who cares?
Dear reader, I urge you to stay tuned and fasten your seat belt. We are in for a rough ride.The election is four months away. In presidential politics, that is a lifetime.
And, always remember the words of Lorenzo Pietro (Yogi) Berra, the wise sage of baseball: It ain’t over till it's over.