I watched Hillary’s concession speech with the cat on my lap and tears in my eyes…

Hillary Clinton, former 2016 Democratic presidential nominee, pauses while speaking at the New Yorker Hotel in New York, U.S., on Wednesday, Nov. 9, 2016. In the hours after Donald Trump’s election as the 45th president of the United States, Republicans in Congress claimed a mandate for their agenda to revamp financial rules and replace Obamacare, and Clinton urged her supporters to give him a chance to govern. Photographer: Olivier Douliery/Pool via Bloomberg via Getty Images

I watched Hillary’s concession speech with the cat on my lap and tears in my eyes. I came of age in Southern Colorado when Jack Kennedy was President, surrounded by my fellow “Latinos” who saw in him and the Democrats their best chance at inclusion in the state of things. How proudly some of my relatives went to work at Democratic headquarters. Even though he was an Irish Catholic, we thought he was one of us. Mexican families still have velour tapestries of Kennedy on their walls.

I feel like I did the day Bowie died. I can forget the looming dark fact for minutes at a time. Then something reminds me…

I have stayed with the Democrats through all of that. For all of their flaws, the Democrats gave us Medicare, BEOG college grants so that the likes of me could be educated, the Voting Rights Act, the Environmental Protection Agency, all down the line, in an attempt to even up the playing field in America. Their plans worked, too. Many poor kids who would at best have become smart criminals or the straw boss of their cotton picking gang under laissez faire capitalism went on to become doctors, lawyers, politicians, artists, or violinists like me. Now they want to undo even the pitiful health care plan that they dropped down from the table at us.

In attempting to prepare myself for this eventuality (just in case), I had decided the night before that I must revert to the strategy of denial and compartmentalization that allowed me to overcome my profound existential revulsion over Reagan and Bush.

As Trump would say, “SAD”.

Author: Blaine L. Reininger

Blaine L. Reininger was born July 10, 1953 in Pueblo, Colorado. Then he lived a life. By and by, he founded Tuxedomoon with Steven Brown in 1977. He traipsed around America, tuxedomooning until 1980, when he began to traipse around Europe. As a direct result of all of this traipsing, many musical compositions were composed, most of which found their way to some sort of mechanical device capable of reproducing musical compositions. This was mostly for the good. He now lives in Athens, Greece, where he is content.

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