Fantastic. It’s another perfect day here. Clear skies. Blue. No clouds. No humidity. Slight breeze. Seventy-five degrees. My pool is as clear as Joe Biden’s brain. And the palm trees, as always, stretch to the skies. The Bougainvillea buds are a rich purple. The night-blooming jasmine gives off an alluring after-smell.
But I’m troubled. Horrified. Yesterday, wifey and I went to see her podiatrist in the heart of the Beverly Hills business district, about a 30-second drive from our house. He’s an 86-year-old man, Korean War veteran. He told my wife that the Beverly Hills Police Department had called on him and told him he should not come in on the day before Election Day, the day of the election, and the day after. The BHPD told him they were expecting “trouble.” They were also going to be closing down the major streets in Beverly Hills from Halloween for an indefinite period up until and after the election.
This is unbelievable. This is America. America. And the police in Beverly Hills are telling us that they’re scared. I could not believe it. I called the BHPD HQ, which is exactly one and a half blocks from our house.
The pleasant policewoman who talked to me confirmed what our podiatrist had said. “Yes,” she said in a monotone, “we’re just playing it safe.”
“Should we go down to our house in the desert?” I asked her.
“Might be a good idea,” she said.
So, that’s why I’m not feeling so cheerful. In this America, where the rioters and arsonists have the politicians scared, law-abiding citizens in one of the most exclusive neighborhoods on the planet — virtually next to the police station — are told that maybe we should leave town when our ballots are cast for the governing officials of the state, the county, and the nation, in the most sacred ritual of the Republic’s democracy.
This is what comes of having cowardly politicians kowtow to the rioters and gangstas all year long. A woman who works for me is married to an L.A. County Sheriff’s Deputy and was in the kitchen putting away dishes when I saw her. “He’s scared. He knows the politicians won’t have his back if he has to shoot to save his life. So what does he do?” She looked scared. She should be. We all should be.
It’s hard to believe, really almost impossible to believe that our America has sunk so low over fantasy allegations of a fantasy crisis: “systemic racism.” The political party selling that wicked, paranoid phantasm may well be about to take over the highest offices in the land.
So, I guess we’ll go down to the desert and hide. I have guns but, of course, if I had to use them, I would be blamed, not the rioters. Our son in South Carolina had some advice when I spoke to him later after I dried off. “If you do have to shoot, aim at the mid-center,” said my helpful, sweet boy. I love his senator, Lindsey Graham. I sure hope he wins. He’s a great public servant and legislator.
Where did “America the Beautiful” go? We are in real trouble, my friends, and we all know it. Do we really want the men and women who egged on the rioters to be in charge?
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