Month: January 2026

While We’re Land-grabbing . . . .

President Trump has made no secret of late that he’s looking to expand the borders of the United States. He’s identified several potential “targets”, and as he’s built his business empire on acquisitions of property, he must know what he’s doing.  His latest target is Greenland, which is apparently rich in natural resources and in a strategically important location.  But, let’s face it, it’s cold – most of it frozen.  How in the world can older Americans flock to a place like that, with few tropical amenities?  Has he never heard the term, “Snowbirds”? We’d assume as his primary residence is now Florida . . . From what I’ve seen, there isn’t a golf course in sight on Greenland.  No pools with swim-up bars.  Its waters are infested with icebergs, and we all know what happened to the Titanic.  Could this be a port of call for cruise ships?  I don’t see it myself.  I say, let the Danes keep it.  Not worth the trouble.

The Canadians too have overwhelmingly resisted joining the United States.  Apparently, the thought of becoming part of the United States of North America hasn’t quite the appeal Mr. Trump envisioned.  Canadians are sticking tenaciously to their sovereignty, along with “O, Canada” and the Maple Leaf.  I have to say, too, that the Canadian Parliament building is a beautiful, old-world edifice, but it does lack a grand ballroom.  Any renovations that Mr. Trump would make, including renaming it “Trump Castle” and converting it to a luxury hotel, would be seriously reduce its value.  That and the fact that Mr. Trump doesn’t speak French.  In fact, his English is barely passable, if his tweets are anything to go by.

Mr. Trump spoke early-on about bulldozing Gaza, relocating the Palestinians, and converting that into a resort area, as it has miles of lovely beaches on the Mediterranean. He dropped that plan when the world expressed a fair bit of outrage, particularly as the Palestinians have been there for thousands of years.  There is the question of where to relocate them.  There are a number of red states that we could make autonomous and give away, although that might meet with resistance from the locals.  

The recent “head-of-state snatch” from Venezuela, followed by Trump’s announcement that the “US would be running Venezuela” in the near future, suggests another option for a 51st state.  Dipping our toe into South American waters, as it were.  A major problem, though, is that ICE agents are deporting Venezuelans currently in the US back to their home country.  If it becomes ours, then where do we send them?  The other big issue, of course, is that, while a certain volume of drugs brought into the US may, or may not, be on those speedboats we’re blowing up in the Gulf of Mexico America, far more is coming through Mexico, assembled from chemicals made in China.  So, if we truly want to cut down on the importation of illegal, lethal drugs, we really should make a play for Mexico.  That’s quite a bit more difficult.  Mexicans are even more resistant to foreign takeover than Canadians.  We’d do well to remember how well Emperor Maximillian, an Austrian prince installed there, worked out in the 19th century.  Although, in fairness, I’d be willing to give them back Texas, if we added Ted Cruz and Governor Abbott into the deal. 

In a recent speech to the World Economic Forum, Mr. Trump awkwardly confused Iceland and Greenland.  True, they’re both ice-covered islands in the North Atlantic.  We also know that, from his first term, when Hurricane Maria hit Puerto Rico, he didn’t seem fully aware that PR is actually part of the United States.  Rather, he thinks it’s an island from which waitstaff and housekeepers come.  Oddly, geography isn’t his strong suit, which is puzzling for someone that has a global empire of often bankrupt resorts.  Perhaps he subconsciously is planning to take over Iceland as well, with its spectacular scenery, hot springs, and all.  Yes, I can just see Trump-Iceland becoming as popular as Trump-Gaza.  

America’s record of empire-building is spotty at best.  We acquired the Philippines, along with Puerto Rico and Guam, only to have to let them go to independence.  We had South Vietnam in the palm of our hands, only to let it slip away.  We installed the Shah in Iran, and that too didn’t work out too well for us.  Nor did Afghanistan.  In fact, the only real land acquisitions we’ve successfully made were the Louisiana Purchase and buying Alaska from Russia.  We could point to the hostile takeover of Hawaii too, where we deposed and imprisoned the Queen, but why quibble over details.  Conquest is conquest. If anyone is up to the task of recreating the great, worldwide empires of the past, a latter-day Napoleon Bonaparte, the very person to lead that charge is Donald J. Trump.  

So, if we’re to recommence adding territory to the United States, my firm recommendation is that we take over warmer lands that we seniors can enjoy.  Tahiti, for example, is isolated and probably unarmed.  It’s ripe for a takeover. Aruba and the Virgin Islands.  I’ve always wanted to go there, but don’t want to have to renew my passport.  We could buy Bermuda from, well, whoever owns it now.  In fact, anything in the Caribbean, or as it will henceforth be known, the Trumpibbean, flowing into the Gulf of Mexico America, is fair game.  Let’s make Jamaica and Cuba Great Again!  Let’s start printing up those new maps and atlases now, and get those hats and t-shirts into production. 

The Afterglow of the Holidays

Now that we’re well into the new year, having celebrated Christmas and New Year’s, watching “Muppet Christmas Carol”, “Holiday Inn”, and the Tournament of Roses Parade (which was a bit soggy this year – marching bands in rain slickers just isn’t the same), it’s time to regroup, take a deep breath, and return to our normal living patterns.

Yes, we all know the holidays are stressful.  For those of us that are, shall we say, a bit older and therefore may not be as severely caught up in the anxiety, or so we tell ourselves, there is still just a bit.  Where did we put all the sales slips in case something needs to be returned?  They were right in the drawer over . . . . . . I know I saved them. How much wrapping paper is left?  Should we restock, or wait until next year?  What color bows should I buy – I don’t know what colors will be stylish in 2026.  Oh, God. Did we get everything put back in the right place?  Should we get rid of some of the decorations that now fill closets and most of the basement?  No, because they’re all treasures. Inherited, or someone special gave them to us.  Made in Kindergarten by someone now in their forties. All those car commercials – should I replace ours?

As a child, I can remember the tremendous letdown the day after Christmas.  I know, we had all that new stuff to play with or wear.  That was exciting, but opening all the presents was spectacular, and now it’s over until next year.  Can we wait that long without our heads exploding?  There would be a birthday in there somewhere, but that wasn’t quite the same.  My birthday is in early December, and while it was never overlooked – my parents were good about that, it did get lost a little in the energetic runup “whoosh” to Christmas.  Nobody ever went caroling with “It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Tom’s Birthday”.  Let’s face it – for kids, there’s a definite letdown after Christmas. Memories of that feeling on Christmas night lurk in my brain. The presents are opened and used, the surprises are gone, and an emptiness exists that New Year’s Eve can’t hope to fill.  (Plus, we were going back to school the day after, so New Year’s Day is a lot like the last Sunday night of summer.)

As adults and young parents, that letdown is mixed with a certain sense that life can return to some form of normal when the Christmas tree goes to the curb and the decorations back into boxes.  A brief, modest sense of relief.  Whew, we made it again this year. It’s mixed with some anxiety.  Did I get enough stuff for everyone?  Did I spend enough, even though the credit cards won’t be back to zero until June. Some of the “Did I do enough?” recedes into darker regions of our consciousness.  It’s too late, so we have to try to let it go.  Parents too have anxiety about balancing the numbers of presents for each child.  Were they equal, or did we show favoritism?  My parents agonized about it every year – particularly my father, who didn’t do any shopping except for my mother.  My secretary, one hilarious year, had bought one daughter a set of tires for her car.  Did that count as one gift or four?  We have an only child, so balancing wasn’t an issue so much as a deficiency issue as it was (and still is) “holy crap – look at all the stuff she’s getting.”  The Head Shopper does it all online now, so we don’t see the piles collectively until the wrapping starts.  At that point, it’s hard to pull out packages because we’ve gone overboard.  It’s difficult giving as a reason to retailers for returning items, “We’re so sorry – we just had too much this year.  Do you mind taking these things back?”  That and the fact that many of Herself’s purchases end up coming from obscure Asian countries, which seldom have friendly return policies. Children usually focus single-mindedly on the holidays themselves, not understanding that adults have holiday preparation on top of everyday living.  Like meals, jobs, and laundry.

We’re now into the retirement phase of life, when Christmas becomes a pleasant diversion.  We can go to the stores during the day or shop online at reasonable times.  No shopping at 10 PM, when the kids are asleep. Prime shopping for Her Ladyship is just before lunch, unless she’s into “Price Is Right”.  Then, it can be moved up.  We decorate at our leisure.  In fact, each year we tend to scale back the house decorations to special items, special gifts,   It’s all about choices and living in the moment. There are boxes of tree ornaments in the basement that we haven’t used in years because, well, honestly, we have enough to decorate the woods behind the house. I didn’t put up the outside lights either because we had major snow that came early in December and caught me by surprise.  (Secretly, I thank the Weather Gods.) There’s a small window of opportunity for setting up outside lights – too early and they step on Thanksgiving’s toes – too late and the heck with it. Also, I don’t like running electrical cables across piles of snow.  In truth, I don’t fully trust outside electricity.   Another disappointment for the Princess, who, even in her forties, asks if I’m going to put up lights outside.  

The house now returns to its fairly peaceful self.  I get my couch back, for example.  We return, as the broadcast networks say, to our “normal programming”.  We tend to watch our television shows on their duly appointed nights.  The occasional DVR, but mostly what’s on at that moment.  The Daughter watches virtually nothing in real time except for award shows.  The Emmys, the Oscars, the Golden Globes, and the Patriots – that’s pretty much it for her, and everything else is in electronic storage.

Last week, we took down the tree and packed up the decorations. Most fit in the containers from whence they came.  Some didn’t.  Did they reproduce while exposed to air and sunlight? Some folks like to keep their things up well into the new year, the more persistent ones until Valentine’s Day. I still see some lights in the neighborhood and we’re almost halfway through January.  For us, the sooner they’re safely away, the sooner the transition to normality is complete.  Here again, is New Year’s Day too soon, and is the following weekend too late?  Then, if New Year’s Day is on a weekend, we’re totally flummoxed.  What happens to uneaten Christmas cookies?  (Yes, you’re right – that never happens.).  Oh, God.  I ate all the Christmas cookies, and the fruitcake, and the plum pudding. Just kidding – I hate fruitcake, and Her Ladyship isn’t a fan of plum pudding. Is the eggnog past its expiration date?  (Throw a little alcohol into it and that will kill the germs.)  The Princess flew back to Atlanta yesterday, but I had to ship two boxes of stuff that wouldn’t fit in her suitcase and backpack.

As we ride off into a new page of the calendar, actually a whole new calendar, making resolutions we probably won’t keep, let’s all remember to “make the New Year bright” and put the anxiety of Christmas behind us.  God rest us, merry Gentle People.  I think I’ll take a nap.