First Response

It wasn't the fact that he went to Florida to meet with victims and first responders. It wasn't that he was on his way to Florida to hang out at his private golf club for the long weekend anyway. It wasn't that he had been blaming any and every possible thing other than the availability of semi-automatic weapons to children who cannot buy their own beer. It was the grin.

No.

It was a smirk.

The photo opportunity that our "President" chose to splash across the banner of his Twitter page had him giving his pompous thumbs-up to a group of heroes who never should have been put in the position of patching up high school kids with multiple gunshot wounds. I cannot imagine the inner strength required to perform such a grisly, unthinkable task. Suddenly a quiet suburban emergency room is transformed into a war zone. These doctors, nurses, paramedics, law enforcement officers and ordinary citizens who jumped into that fray and saved lives have my respect and appreciation. Showing up on the day that first of the victims were being laid to rest, this paunchy orange twit expressed his understanding of the situation in the most insipid way possible.

In the next week, seventeen funerals will be held. If the "President" has clue one he and his thumb will avoid these events if he wants to avoid at least the suggestion if not direct instruction about where that thumb ought to go.

That smirk.

What does this man know about the pain that runs through Parkland, Florida? Aurora, Colorado? Newtown, Connecticut? This is a man who brags about having a button on his desk with which he can dispatch nuclear missiles on his angry whim. This is a man who is willing to dispatch what he feels is justice with that same simple gesture of which he seems so fond. He is not so much a president as a throwback to Roman emperors. Outside the palace, cities are burning. Children are dying. And teachers. Americans. While he plays golf.

While all of this was going on, teenagers in Florida, and across the country were finding their voices. Kids who are just about to turn the age where they can buy an AR-15. And vote. Reading these messages from our youth, I think I know which one they're going to choose. I wonder if he'll be smirking then.