Once upon a time, there was a rich businessman (or at least he claimed to be rich) from New York City with orange hair and gold fixtures in his bathroom and a popular TV show who decided to run for president.
He loved holding rallies and blaming “those people” — anyone who wasn’t white or Christian — for all the ills of society. White Christian evangelicals loved the man, because he promised to appoint “conservative” (meaning anti-abortion, anti-same sex marriage) judges to the Supreme Court. Millions of Americans loved his straight talk. He was so refreshing. So different.
The rich businessman got elected, even though he lost the popular vote by 3 million votes. Once in office, he got himself into a little, er, legal trouble, but his millions of fans didn’t care. He was a conman and a liar and a bully, but he was their conman, their liar, their bully. And best of all, he “owned the libs.”
The second time the rich businessman ran for president, he didn’t get enough votes to win, not even enough of those weird electoral college votes. So, he did what any patriotic, red-blooded American would do. He sued people. And helped create fake electoral slates. And led an insurrection on the Capitol. And yelled about “fake news.”
Then he moved to his big estate in Florida where the Republican politicians would come and bow down to him and beg for his support. He also absconded with lots of classified documents that belonged to the American government, but that’s another story. And when it came time for the 2022 election, the rich businessman picked certain Republican candidates to run for office.
One of these was Herschel Walker, a fine football player who the rich businessman picked to run for the Senate seat in Georgia. That mattered a lot to the good folks of Georgia; they loved them some football. Plus, Herschel was African American, which proved that Republicans aren’t racist. Plus, Herschel possessed all the traits the rich businessman admired. He lied like he breathed and then denied it, even though there was proof that he was lying. The rich businessman loved Herschel even more when he kept lying about his past and never apologized for anything. He knew Herschel had what it took to stand up to the liberal elite.
One day, one of Herschel’s former lady “friends” got tired of Herschel claiming to be against abortion, because Herschel had paid for her to have an abortion. So, she told people about it and provided lots of proof. Herschel denied it and threatened to sue the lady, but he didn’t sue. He said he didn’t even know the woman, although it turned out that she had later given birth to one of Herschel’s many illegitimate children. Herschel didn’t seem to be too embarrassed by this story, even though he had claimed to be a Christian with family values. He also didn’t seem upset that his own son blasted him and called him a liar and a cheat. After all, Herschel had beaten stronger opponents on the football field.
The loyal red-blooded Republican voters in Georgia didn’t care about the latest news about their guy Herschel. In fact, they sent in lots of money to help Herschel’s campaign. The nation’s leading Republicans didn’t care either. Ethics and values don’t matter when it comes to beating those woke socialist Democrats. Senator Rick Scott proclaimed that Herschel Walker “represented Georgia values.” You read that right. A man who impregnated several women and then ignored the children; a man who threatened to kill his wife; a man who lied constantly. That man represents Georgia values.
White Christian evangelicals, the ones who liked the rich businessman because he appointed judges who overturned Roe v Wade, didn’t even mind. They just fondled their Bibles and mumbled something about redemption and forgiveness. Give Herschel a pass they all agreed. Better yet, give him the ball so he can keep running. Praise the Lord!
And that, sports fans, is where we are in America today. God Bless America!
David Treadwell, a Brunswick writer, welcomes commentary and suggestions for future “Just.a Little Old” columns. dtreadw575@aol.com.
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