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The Trump Plan

Trump had a plan. It was an ill-conceived, impractical plan doomed to fail, but such a thing had never stopped Trump or his campaign before. We know the plan due to a stroke of signature incompetence from Trump’s lawyer, Rudy Giuliani, Esq. who divulged the plan unwittingly by dialing the wrong number for a Senator. The plan was to delay the vote on accepting the Electoral College votes. With more time, the Trump campaign could lobby more Congress members on the idea of a 10-day audit. With ten more days, who knows? Anything could happen, especially with a president willing to do…anything.

Parts of the plan were coming together splendidly. A call had gone out to the teeming masses of Trump supporters on Twitter, on Parler, on Facebook, on 4chan, on the Three-percent-er sites, on White Rabbit Radio, The Foundry, the Colorado United Patriot sites, et.al. The call wanted people to come to Washington, DC on January 6th. On December 19th, Trump Tweeted, "Statistically impossible to have lost the 2020 Election. Big protest in D.C. on January 6th. Be there, will be wild!" They came by the thousands. They came armed and in tactical gear. Some came dressed just plain tacky.

"WE HAVE JUST BEGUN TO FIGHT!!!" — Donald J. Trump (@realDonaldTrump) December 12, 2020

Some of the plan was not coming together so readily. Mitch McConnell was blowing cool and grimacing at wayward Senators willing to side with the president. Mike Pence wrote a letter to Congress that read, in part, “...my considered judgement that my oath to support and defend the Constitution constrains me from claiming unilateral authority to determine which electoral votes should be counted and which should not.”

Trump told his crowd, “All Vice President Pence has to do is send it back to the states to re-certify and we become president and you are the happiest people!” But Pence’s involvement was not mission critical. As Rep. Gosar rose with the sebaceous Ted Cruz at his side during the joint session of Congress Wednesday, all that was needed was for the Vice President to intone the very words the parliamentarian furnished him to say that would cause the State of Arizona’s objection to be taken up separately by each chamber of Congress. Each individual state’s objection would then call for up to two hours of debate prior to a vote allowing the counted electoral votes to be accepted driving the procedure late into the night. Meanwhile, the voices of “Trump’s Army” could be heard while more arms were twisted behind the scenes by Giuliani’s frantic lobbying effort.

In order for the voices to be heard, however, there was an obstacle. The Capitol has long since in its history found means of drowning out the mewling voices of the piteous herd while it decides the matters of state. Each chamber is far enough away from the exterior to be well acoustically cushioned from the cries of the oppressed. The grounds of the Capitol are expansive and no one may set foot on the steps of the building without a formal invite from a member of Congress or a similarly recognized government official. Tour groups must be vetted weeks in advance. Members debate in this inner sanctum quite comfortably removed from the aggrieved mobs who routinely come to redress grievances on the National Mall well out of earshot unless they happen to be major donors. It is the way Washington works.

How would Trump’s Army be heard as the objections from a handful of states were considered? What if the perimeter around the Capitol was soft in places? What if a few side doors were manned by a handful of Capitol Police officers sympathetic to the cause. Then it might be possible to have the voices of the dissolute who feel their votes were stolen from them cry out within earshot of the Members of Congress casually debating the final outcome of the Election of 2020. After all, it is their House. They pay their salaries, don’t they?

The New York Times reported: “President Trump initially rebuffed and resisted requests to mobilize the National Guard, according to a person with knowledge of the events. It required intervention from the White House counsel, Pat Cipollone, among other officials, the person familiar with the events said.”

The elements of a crime consist of a criminal act, a criminal intent, and the concurrence of the two. In this case, the president was, with clearly stated intent, attempting to have certified electoral votes thrown out. He was using the coercive force of his legions of followers to obstruct and delay Congress receiving the votes. Thousands of Proud Boys and Trump supporters had met in the capital December 12th resulting in a number of arrests, four stabbings, charges of police assault and several skirmishes between violent protesters and counter-protesters. There was no plausible means for the president to think that the crowd on January 6th was going to be any more civil than the one from less than a month prior. His words encouraging them to believe that the election was “rigged” and stolen from them did nothing but further ramp up the hostility. His intent was to coercively intimidate members of Congress in order to gain a 10-day window of reprieve to presumably continue his efforts to nullify an election. His plan failed spectacularly, but it was still a plan. It was also a criminal exercise.

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Quarantine - Day 49

photo by Anna Moneymaker/The New York Times

Another stellar spring day. Ella pulled me outdoors with her basketball to show off her improving between-the-legs dribble. Then we aired up the tires in the bikes and went for a ride looking for streets unridden before, which are getting fewer and fewer in number in our vicinity. Ella, who is developing a real gift for alley finds, found a metal shop cart without a thing wrong with it, and a pair of needle nose pliers with its nose slightly bent. I found a working gooseneck lamp. All these treasures we brought back to the garage, and after a bit of cleanup, the shop cart found something to cart in the garage while the needle nose pliers went into the vice until its bent nose was straightened out once again with the help of a garage-sale ball peen hammer that cost me seventy-five cents a while back. We hung the bikes back up very pleased with our ride and our finds, and Ella danced upstairs to make cupcakes.

Abbie spent the afternoon fashioning puppets while Laura tried her hand at barbering my scant but still unruly hair. It felt good for this sheep to get shorn, and although unsure of her cutting skills at first, Laura managed to distinguish herself as a fine amateur barber. Nothing feels quite like a brand new haircut.

Later, Donald Trump and Fox News conducted a “Town Hall” at the Lincoln Memorial. In our neighborhood, just down the at the corner of Lincoln and Lawrence keeping watch over his namesake avenue is the "Standing Lincoln", a bronze statue made by, Daniel Chester French, the same sculptor who did the "Sitting Lincoln" statue at the memorial. Before this particular Lincoln, Trump complained that no president, even the sixteenth, had been as maligned as he has been over the past three and a half years. Lincoln, who had more than just his character assassinated, just sat there speechless.

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Quarantine - Day 48

Playbill by Ella St. John

A perfect spring day with lots of sunshine, flower beds abloom, and dandelions taking over the unused park across the street. In the morning, work continued on content briefly until I announced that we were all getting outside and going for a walk. This proposition was not met with much general consensus, but I steadfastly pressed my case. At last, we all emerged blinking into the wash of sunlight on the front steps and, choosing a direction of travel, set off for a walk.

It turns out that the entire city had experienced the same brilliant idea as I did at roughly the same instant. It was going to be nearly impossible to maintain proper social distance in such a crowd. My newly purchased mask that had come all the way from China quickly broke the first time I grinned from ear to ear as it was rather poorly made, and in just a matter of minutes after setting off, we turned back.

Plan B: we set off on a drive with the windows down. We went to Evanston and picked up more books from CARA to deliver to schools and texted the Bradleys to let them know we were driving by their house if they wanted to wave at us. Melissa was out walking her dogs and we missed her. We drove up along the North Shore where everyone was spilling out onto their lawns and the lakefront with bicycles nearly outnumbering cars in places. We looked for an ice cream stand but they were all too populated to stop and maintain distance, so I navigated over to Skokie where I remembered seeing a Culver’s where we could go through a drive thru. As a part-time resident of the State of Minnesota, Abigail loves Culver’s cheese curds and custard, and soon we were once again land sailing with the windows down and the sunroof open eating frozen custard as droves of bikes, motorcycles, scooters, skateboards, and joggers streamed around us. Today would have been the day of the annual Waldorf School May Fair where we would have gathered to watch the children dance around the May Pole. This is the first missed May Fair in many, many years for us, but we made do.

In the evening, Ella and Rosie treated us to a debut performance of their drama:  The Forgotten Child in their backyard theater. The show featured a Playbill, intermission treats, and around five costume changes. It involved an evil flight attendant, a child with telekinetic powers, and a mother that has forgotten she has a child. They plan to develop the script for The Disney Channel. Afterwards, we ate delicious enchiladas prepared by Abbie, wound down our day a bit, and turned in round midnight like Lester Young would have done.

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Quarantine - Day 47

Let’s salute the heroes. My daughter is my hero. After taking a few days to do schoolwork, Abbie resumed editing and composing original music for our series of videos. She has been the driving force for all of our online content, and as we put more of it up it makes us feel that we are moving in some direction rather than just sitting still in the world. It is a little bit of hope we share amongst us, giving us a job to do and a common goal to accomplish. Without her, would we have simply quit at this point? It is possible, I suppose. As soon as she would finish a video, we would gather to watch its first debut, then I would do a bit of post-production and put it up on the site. Laura pressed ahead with one of our schools to get them to pay for the content even as they wanted to delay our contract until the fall. Instead, she got the school to schedule a meeting for their teachers so they can work the content into their remote learning. Without a decent amount of willpower, little is possible.

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Quarantine - Day 46

Ella played outside nearly all day with her friends. Abigail hosted Drama Club in the afternoon. Laura has less than a 100 pages left in Stephen King’s The Stand, which she has clung to like Tom Hanks’ character clung to Wilson in the movie Cast Away. I spent part of the day cleaning trash out of the alley that had appeared out of nowhere and the evening chasing trolls around on social media while the gals got their strut on watching more “Drag Race” before a heated game of Scrabble ensued.

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Quarantine - Day 45

Wednesday featured an all day, steady rain with a cloud deck that looked like it was resting on the treetops. Abigail, who at times acts as if she is allergic to sunlight, decided it would be a great time to go for a long walk. Her mother remarked that she is a true London girl, and this is her kind of weather. Ella’s Remote Learning took a twist as her classmates wanted to initiate their own Zoom session in the afternoon to work on math together. This led to another long session of getting together just because, and then a migration to Houseparty, a new app currently enjoying a bit of buzz with the younger quarantine crowd. Ella, who does not like being alone, soaked up the social interaction like a wick.

Abbie and Laura have taken to watching RuPaul’s “Drag Race” on VH1. This has led to phrases such as “ConDragulations!”, Yass, Queen!”, and “Sissy that walk!” entering our vernacular here at home. They want me to join in watching the show, and I am bluntly refusing.

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