Joe: We’ve seen this in Iowa before, but it’s actually called a ten-year blizzard. A once-in-a-decade-storm where everything stops. Schools close. Restaurants. Grocery stores.
Fern: Grateful to have a warm house. Enough food. Caring neighbors. I’m mostly happy when things are canceled. Even when there’s something I want to go to. Is that weird?
Joe: No. I think it’s called getting old.
Fern: To be happy that no one expects you to go anywhere?
Joe: Unless you drive a snow-plow. Or an ambulance. Then you’re really needed. People are grateful when you show up.
Fern: Next week they’ll all be gone. The politicians, I mean. And the press. There’ll be no one at the Git ‘N ‘Go asking your opinion about gas prices. No more reporters hanging out in a coffee shop talking to guys in seed corn caps. No more “debates.” No more Trump fund-raising rallies. Good-bye. Good-bye.
Joe: Whose idea was it to have this first-in-the-nation status in Iowa? In January?
Fern: Someone with a perverse sense of humor. Art Cullen might have been involved.
Joe: I read that Vivek Ramaswamy, who doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of being President . . .
Fern: Good metaphor.
Joe: . . . after a five hour drive in a snowstorm he posted: "Got stuck in snow. Five of us tried to push SUV out, finally got it done with extra help from a good Iowan."
Fern: Yes. The proverbial Good Iowan. So lucky that Ramasamy was in Iowa rather than driving across some liberal state where they’d let him freeze to death.
I don’t it get. How is this the way to pick a president?
Joe: You mean the caucuses? The primaries?
Fern: I mean, schlepping around Iowa, going to coffee shops and dairy barns and Iowa towns whose population equals the graduating class of a high school in Chicago.
For the most part, the Republican debates were in one word: ridiculous.
Joe: I didn’t see the last Republican debate. I was in the basement playing poker on Zoom. Ok. To be honest, I didn’t see any of the debates. I don’t know how you can watch that stuff. Was there a substantive interaction?
Fern: The last one was more: “You’re a liar.” “No, You’re a liar.”
Joe: And Chris Christie was out? I kind of liked him.
Fern: Christie was tough when people asked stupid questions. Where George W was seen as someone you’d want to have a beer with, Christie was the one you’d trust to bring the cannoli. We like our president to appear at least, to be a regular guy.
Joe: Or Gal.
Fern: I don’t think you’ve ever used that word before. Really. Gal?
Christy didn’t have much support in Iowa. He survived the Bridge scandal in Jersey, but then he couldn’t survive having been Trump’s patsy and then defecting.
Joe: I did just see a TV add for someone named Ryan Binkley. Maybe I’m not paying attention, but I never heard of him. His slogan is: “Let’s Believe Again.”
Fern: He’s a religious fundamentalist who funded his own campaign. Catchy campaign slogan: Let’s Believe Again! In his ads, he repeats with some fervor: “I’m Still Here, Iowa! I’m Still Here!”
Joe: He may still be here longer than he thinks if the weather doesn’t break.
Fern: Supposed to be minus 19 with the wind chill factor on Monday.
Joe: So the last Republican debates had only two people: Haley and DeSantis? How would it have played if Trump participated in the debates?
Fern: More entertaining for sure. He’s seventy-seven years old. Exactly my age. And the energy that it takes for him to keep going. I admire that. Ever single day: to wake up, get dressed, get your hair done, put on your make-up. Show up in Iowa for a rally no matter what the weather. Fly to the East coast to defend yourself in court. And then stay awake until the wee hours posting gibberish.
I mean, how does he have the stamina to do all this?
Joe: Amphetamines?
Fern: Years later and I still don’t get it. Tonight Iowa polls have him leading at over 50%. And I thought it was over at grab ‘em by the pussy.
My friends did, too. I’m in two women’s book clubs. A bridge group. A Friday coffee. And all of us can hardly believe that he’s running again. I thought most women (including Melania) would be repulsed by Donald Trump. The sneer. The preening. His looming inescapable presence endures. It’s like having the neighbor who molested you waving from the window whenever you leave the house.
Joe: Ames is a college town. So we live in a democratic bubble.
Fern: A recent article in the New York Times says that Iowa is experiencing a brain drain, losing 44% of its college grads.
Joe: Leaving behind …
Fern: …the left-behinds. One person interviewed for the article claimed that Trump speaks to a certain kind of people: people who feel like they were left behind.
Joe: Another person interviewed claims there’s something about Midwesterners who root for a Don Quixote “railing against the big bad government.” Interesting, but even more was what that interviewee added at the end, like an afterthought: And people knew what they were getting.
Fern: That’s chilling. We know who Trump is. He was our President for four years. We know what we’re getting. And half of us want him again.
The good news is that only a third of voters want Trump. It’s the Electoral College that I fear the most. Thanks for a very entertaining piece. Keep us laughing!!
So agree, Fern! I tho't the "grab 'em" remark would end it, but men were hee hawing over it as "just locker room talk". Would they want their daughters "grabbed" by the "dirty old man"? And women remarked, "Oh he's so handsome." Huh? And "brain drain"? People leave for jobs. How many well paying, professional jobs (especially in education) go to the guy from out of state?