Didn’t sleep a wink last night. Tossed and turned. And about 3 AM, had a vision float into my head: Donald Trump with a completely bald head. Shaved clean, shiny, without a hair in sight.
Gone was the edifice of cotton candy pulled left, shoved right, waved backwards, coaxed forwards. Trump has been to l'art de la coiffure what the Wonderbra was to bosoms. But, apparently, no longer.
Instead, he was joining ranks of Mark Messier, Michael Jordan, Mahatma Gandhi, Telly Savalas—and also a true plutocrat, Daddy Warbucks, who could become a new father figure to Donald.
Warbucks was “an industrialist, but became a philanthropist as well—his fortune had built to ‘ten zillion dollars.’”* There is no evidence, however, that he set up a phony charitable foundation. And he did have a concern about the plight of one orphan child. One cannot imagine Warbucks leaving Annie stranded at the border. So, maybe not a daddy to Donny.
As for the others as clean-headed mentors: Donald as a selflessness Gandhi? It is to laugh. And since he couldn’t shoot a roundball like Michael or a frozen puck like Mark, they’re out. Maybe the best bet would be for him to take after Kojak—and suck lollipops.
Arf!
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