“Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and tromps his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more; it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.” – Shakespeare
Apologies to Shakespeare for one word I changed in this quote from the last act of Macbeth. It’s easy to find; no need to point it out. My nightmare is that this country will fall into step with tromping Trump, goose-stepping of course, and his “hour upon the stage” will last for an eternity of eight years. Trump is a frightening specter, especially to someone like me who was born a citizen of the Third Reich and who, as a 2-year old, enjoyed raising her arm in a greeting that she could neither pronounce nor understand.
Luckily, the nightmare fades with the morning sunlight. I can see now: The specter appears different, thank God – blond hair, no dictator’s timbre in the voice – his tale so ludicrous it doesn’t deserve even negative comment. The specter turned into a clown, and all it took was the light of day and memory to reveal its true nature. Let’s enjoy the show, laugh at his antics, give him a round of applause – but not our votes.
Ingrid Ryan
Durango
