Where, oh, where, is Gen. Kelly?
I feel like yelling at the screen: "Stop. Just stop."
I have never felt this way about a president of the United States.
I used to like to listen to Ronald Reagan. Didn't agree with him, but he had a way about him. And I was never actually afraid of Reagan.
I had a lot of bad thoughts about George W. Bush, but at no time did I want to yell at him. I might have said, "You're wrong" or "Stop the war," but I never said, "Just please, for once, stop!"
Why is the president of the United States fighting with the players of the NFL?
What is he doing in a brawl with an unemployed free agent?
Why can't he stop calling the leader of North Korea, who has nuclear weapons, names?
Where, oh, where, is Gen. John Kelly?
"It doesn't matter," my son says, taking the paper from me, telling me to change the channel -- a realist in the "What can you do?" school, figuring that the market "has already accounted for it."
Trump's signature campaign issue, the repeal of Obamacare, is going down the tubes. Houston is still reeling; Florida is still a disaster. Puerto Rico is in ruins. The president is watching television, thinking, "Who do these football players think they are? Who does this guy in North Korea think he is? Don't they know who I am?"