Matt Dunn the Mentos Man: An Exploration into a Teenage Criminal

             In the fall of 1997, I was an eighth grader on a field trip in Washington DC.  Although this had its moments of fun, I felt somewhat out of place.  I was placed in a group with several boys who I didn’t know very well.  My good friend at the time, Michael Lipman, was supposed to be in my group, but he had backed out of the trip for some reason or another.  I was in a group with some boys that he had chosen. 

              The point of the trip was always to experience the history of the nation and bring it to life for students.  Most of that trip though I remember feeling somewhat out of place.  I was already an excellent history student, but as a young adolescent I found that my intellect would bring me no popularity.  During the trip I would often leave my group to hang out with two other boys, Tom Linden and David Powers, who I knew from our school band, and a new friendship with them was beginning to bloom.  We all had similar tastes in music, but in addition to that, I wanted to learn from them, as they seemed to have progressed earlier in their relationships with the opposite sex.  Dave had seemed to get quite a lot of attention from girls as he was also a star athlete, and Tom seemed to exude a confidence that I certainly did not have.  At the trip dance in the hotel Tom danced with a popular girl, Valerie Carlson in a provocative manner, and I was envious of that. 

              However, there was one thing that I noticed that I did get attention for:  I always carried Mentos with me.  The previous year, I had pursued a girl unsuccessfully, and I began to take stock of my appearance and of my breath.  I took to carrying these mints because of my insecurity of my breath all the time (although later I would find out that these mints because of their sugar content would only make your breath worse).  I sincerely believe that the sugar content in these mints was designed to be addictive because all throughout the trip people were asking me for them. 

              At the time of the trip, I was in a period of my life, when I was obsessed with gangster movies.  I watched every gangster movie I could get my hands on.  Then it hit me towards the end of the trip:  I should sell Mentos.  People were always asking me for them, I should sell them for a profit. 

 

              When I arrived home from Washington, I was invigorated by my new idea.  A supermarket, Waldbaums was within biking distance from my house, and I would buy 4 packs of Mentos for $2.00.  I would then sell them for .75 a pack giving me a net profit of $1.00 per 4 pack.  In retrospect, this was a fairly good profit margin.  I began buying Mentos and then dealing them out in school.  My new friends Dave and Tom became some of my first customers.  Others began to follow and I would sell individual packs of Mentos in the auditorium before school, in the locker room, and also in classes.  The profits I made went to typical teenage consumerism:  buying pizza and egg sandwiches.

              One day, I was visiting another friend who lived by the Waldbaums, Billy Loud.  Billy had made some friends from the next block who went to the neighboring school district, which had a tougher reputation than ours.  Getting interested in some teenage idiocy, we went to Waldbaums to buy lighter fluid.  Billy’s friend, Rob, who seemed to relish in being a bit of a juvenile delinquent, just stole the lighter fluid and I did the same, to fit in with the group.  It was then I had my second realization in recent weeks: stealing was fairly easy, and if I applied it to my Mentos business, I could make a great deal more profit.  Being someone who had recently become interested in gangster movies, this seemed like a win win. 

              It is here that the story divulges.  At first, I was just trying to make a little extra money and get noticed by people in school.  However, now I saw I chance to completely change my reputation.  I had always been known as an intelligent student, and in elementary school gained the moniker “Mr. History”.  In fact some of my classmates probably thought me quite nerdy and pretentious as I often sought to parade my knowledge around.  I had been called a teacher’s pet once recently, and that stuck with me.  It was then that I saw that Mentos could be my way out of that.  I would now be putting my intellect into use for selfish ends.  I would now embrace a bad boy persona, that would help me get the attention I so desired. 

              Gone was the nerdy “Mr. History” and born was the rebellious and enterprising Mentos Man.  I made it clear to students in school that I was stealing the Mentos, I wanted people to know.  Now that I was stealing the Mentos, I reduced the price to .50 per pack, which was cheaper than stores would sell individual packs.  Almost everything I took home was profit.  I developed a routine, I would come home from school and I would ride my bike to nearby stores and steal Mentos.  Most often I stole from Waldbaums, but I tried to space out my targets to other nearby stores. 

              It was then that I began to develop quite a following in school.  I learned that Mentos was truly addictive, and people desired it greatly.  I sold both the original Mentos and the new flavor the fruit Mentos.  Students began to seek me out to buy Mentos.  One particularly good customer, Michael Hauff, bought 4 packs a day.  As a true gangster in training, I began not to eat Mentos as much as I had, it cut into my profit margin.  I seemed to relish in the fact, that I was nurturing an addiction to Mentos in students around the school. 

              This was how it went for a while.  Slinging Mentos got me lots of attention from both students and staff at the school.  See my principal in junior high, Mr. Rizzo, ran a pretty tight ship in our school, and I firmly believe Rizzo would have been a good S.S. officer for the Nazis.  Students who got caught chewing gum, would end up in detention.  In retrospect I believe that this helped my business cause Mentos was eaten and didn’t end up on desks.  But the school had a strict policy against selling candy in school. 

              Now here was where I learned about how being a good student helped me avoid the rules for a while.  I routinely got caught selling Mentos in various places throughout the school.  But because I was a good student, the teachers never wrote me up.  I would just promise to stop selling in that location and I would set up shop somewhere else.  Like any good dealer you always have to be ready to be on the move. 

              One particularly good spot to sell was in my first period gym class.  The fiends would come out to buy in the locker room at the beginning of the day.  After one particularly good haul of stealing the previous day, I was carrying a lot of Mentos.  I came into the locker room, and just announced “Who wants Mentos?”.  No shit a line formed in front of me with kids waiving dollar bills.  Within a couple of minutes I sold out. 

              The gym teacher, Mr. Ward, had previously warned me about selling Mentos in the locker room.  He called out my name and said “Dunn you’re done!”  I went into his office, and he asked me to give him the rest of the Mentos that I had.  I told him that they had all be sold, and I didn’t have any left.  He said “You sold them all?  How much money did you make?”.  I made approximately $12 that day so I told him.  He then stopped for a second, almost wondering.  He had this look on his face, like damn this kid has got a good idea.  I’ll never forget that.  That split second look gave me a all the validation I needed to know that I had a good thing going.  He told me then that I he didn’t want to write me up cause I was one of his favorite students, but if he caught me again he would have to.  I agreed at stop selling in gym class, and I left his office feeling like an arrangement between two men had just occurred.  I held my head high that day I tell you.

              This whole operation lasted like this for around two months.  Every day there was Mentos to be sold, usual customers came out to spend their allowance money, and I really thought of myself as a big shot.  Besides just making spending money for here and there, people knew me. My reputation was growing.  However, I failed to learn the lessons from the gangster movies that I loved at the time.  It was only a matter of time until it all came crashing down. 

 

 

              People who commit crimes on a regular basis tend to get cocky.  That perfectly describes how I felt on the afternoon of February 13^th, 1998.  I was walking home with two other kids and they were asking me about my business.  I explained how I regularly stole candy from Waldbaums, and I asked them to come along with me on my regular heist.  This would prove to be my fatal mistake.  Stores might not notice one kid but three draws attention. 

              I took the candy into the bathroom like I usually did and put it in my pocket.  When I got out, a store manager was waiting for me.  He then said “where was the candy that you went into the bathroom with?”.  He said that him and the other managers had seen me around for a while.  Apparently I wasn’t as good as I thought .  I was done, my heart sank, I panicked and froze.  I always thought that if I got caught I would run, but I just stopped in my tracks.  He took me up the general manager’s office.  As I write this, I can still feel that horrible anxious feeling I experienced.  The moment is forever burned into my soul.  

              Eugene, the general manager explained that they had spotted me before and were on to me.  I had also noticed that in weeks past, the price of Mentos had risen, probably because of my constant stealing.  I gave a fake name and at first it seemed as though they would let me go.  However, then they spotted my wallet in my pocket which had my library card.  I was done.  He called my house and spoke to my dad to come pick me up.  I later learned that the store manager wanted to call the cops and have me arrested, but the other manager who was with him convinced him not to.  I can remember that awful look of disappointment on my father’s face when he came up the stairs to come get me.  He had gotten off work early that day and was still in his suit.  Here was this very respectable man coming to get his degenerate son.  I had been crying throughout, terrified of the consequences of my actions.  I went home, and my parents didn’t talk to me for a while, which probably was one of the worst nights of my young life.  

              The next day, my dad drove me to my hockey game.  He didn’t say anything to me in the car on the way there.  I worked my butt off in that game, and at one point my dad mouthed good job to me from the stands.  On the way home, he talked to me, talked about what might happen if I continued to go down that road.  I felt horrible, and I think he could see that.  I would never shoplift again after that day. 

              My Mentos business shut down after that.  I had garnered too much attention and began telling others in school how I got caught and how I was out of the game.  It was a good run I figured, and it was time to get back into school activities, and for the rest of the year I mostly was a model student. 

              So to end, what can I say about my time slinging Mentos.  Was it all bad?  The truth is, it was one of the greatest experiences of my young life.  It was necessary for me in retrospect.  I had all this rebellious energy inside of me, and I just poured it into this business of mine.  Was it the wrong thing to do?  Yeah, I should have just stuck to selling Mentos that I bought at the store.  Had I grown up in the days of Amazon.com, I probably could have just bought huge containers wholesale and sold them that way. 

              But for the first time in my life, I really felt noticed.  Perhaps I had cultivated too much of a nerdy personality in my younger days, that if I ever wanted to escape that I needed to break out in spectacular fashion as I did.  I gained confidence through the experience and didn’t feel invisible anymore.  I gained the confidence to become a singer in a band with my friends and former customers Tom and Dave.  From then on out I felt like a leader and not some nerdy loner. 

              So, make of this what you will.  Adolescent rebellion can be strong gateway into becoming an adult.  It also makes you question which kind of authority is necessary.  Yes, the store had the right to have authority over me, as I was consistently stealing their merchandise.  But the school?  Who were they to tell me that I didn’t have the right to sell candy?  Arbitrary rules in schools are unnecessary and should be challenged at all times. 

              I guess more than anything, this story is to say that developing confidence in one’s self can come from a variety of sources.  Stealing was certainly the wrong thing to do but it taught me lessons and I grew because of it.  I learned from this experience.  And every experience in life, is something we can learn from. 

 

Christopher Columbus and Ethic Identity

 By Matthew Dunn

 

The recent decision by the New York City Department of Education to drop Columbus Day as an official holiday was met with resentment from members of the Italian-American community.  This resentment is expected as many Italian-Americans, celebrate Columbus Day as not only the anniversary of Columbus’s landing in the Americas, but also a day of ethnic pride, as Columbus originally hailed from the north of present day Italy. 

              The cause of Columbus Day has generated a great deal of controversy in recent years.  Columbus is both hailed as a hero, who started the process of European colonization, but also as someone who both took part in and helped begin large scale genocide against the indigenous people of the Americas.  Perhaps when one takes a closer look at this issue, one can see the problems of armchair nationalism, and its failure to truly address the actual histories of how people and nations are formed. 

 

The Italian-American Legacy of Columbus

              The story of the Italian-Americans and Columbus is a fairly modern one.  When Italians began migrating to the United States in large numbers around the beginning of 20^th century, they faced racial hostility.  Italians were a southern European group, who at the time, were not necessarily classified as white.  Southern Europeans were thought of as a different race, not fully white, but also not fully black.  Different languages and cultural practices also brought with them a level of discrimination. 

              In this environment, Italian-Americans used the legacy of Columbus to assimilate into the American mainstream.  “Italians have been in America since Columbus”, might have been a popular phrase.  After Columbus Day was marked as a national holiday in the 1930s, it became a day to support Italian heritage.  Since then, Italian-Americans have become the most vocal defenders of Columbus and Columbus Day as a holiday.  This idea was explored to humorous results in the Sopranos episode “Christopher” written by star Michael Imperioli. 

 

The Trouble with Ethnic Identity

              One of the troubles with identifying Columbus as an Italian hero, is to ask “Was Columbus really Italian?”  According to records, Columbus was born in the Republic of Genoa, which is in the northern section of the Italian peninsula.  As Columbus was born in 1451, he would have been considered Genoese not Italian at the time.  Italy was made of independent kingdoms, who were often at war with each other throughout this period.  Italy as a nation-state, would not become united until 400 years later with the Italian unification. 

              In addition to this, it is well known that Columbus explored and conquered for Spain.  He did this because Italian princes at the time, would have had no interest in his exploration.  Italian states like Genoa, Venice, and Florence, were already succeeding by controlling most of the eastern trade.  They would have had no interest in financing an expensive sea voyage west.  Columbus eventually secured funding and materials in addition to state support from the recently united Spanish kingdom.  All discoveries he made, and wealth that was generated out of these explorations would enrich the Spanish crown, not any of the leaders from Italy. 

              The appropriation of Columbus as an Italian hero also denies a good portion of Italians own sentiment and history amongst themselves.  As Columbus was from the northern part of the peninsula, one might argue, he might not have had positive opinions about most Italian-Americans whose roots lay mostly in the Southern Italian provinces. 

              When Italian unification proceeded, Italy and the rest of Europe were also in the midst of large scale industrialization.  The northern half of Italy building on its history as a financial capital, became full of industrial centers such as Turin.  However, the southern half stayed almost completely agrarian.  This led to the northern half owning much of the wealth and the southern half staying mostly impoverished.  In fact soon after the Italian peninsula united under one flag, also happens to be when most Southern Italians began moving to the United States.  As Furio Giunta stated on The Sopranos “I never liked Columbus, he came from the north.  I hate the north, they always turn their noses up at us, call us peasants.” 

              In fact, for many Southern Italians, becoming Italian would in effect force them to assimilate into the new Italian culture.  Before the ages of nationalism in 1848, many Italians spoke provincial dialects, such as Sicilian.  During the 1800s, the nations of Europe started standardizing their languages, creating official languages as a means of creating more united nation-states.  Those who didn’t learn the new dialects would be outsiders. 

              So when looking at Columbus, it isn’t exactly so simple to say that he was Italian.

 

The Case of Napoleon and American History

              This brings us to the case of another Genoese expatriate: Napoleon Bonaparte.  Largely considered a catalyst for the nationalist movements in Europe in the 1800s, Napoleon originally hailed from Corsica, which France purchased from Genoa just over a year before Napoleon’s birth.  Napoleon was born Napoleone di Buonaparte, and grew up learning the Corsican and Italian languages.  After succeeding in the military academy he became an officer in the French army, and take advantage of the revolutionary instability of the 1790s to eventually become emperor of France.  He would also go on to dominate continental Europe until his defeats in Russia in 1812. 

              Besides this, Napoleon also had a great deal of impact on American history as well.  Napoleon had grand ambitions during his early reign of restoring French colonies in North America.   However, these dreams were cut short because of the success of the Haitian Revolution, a successful revolution of formerly enslaved people.  After losing in Haiti, Napoleon gave up these dreams.  In order to continue financing his wars in Europe, Napoleon sold the Port of New Orleans, and the Louisiana territory to the United States.  After purchasing this huge amount of property, The United States was well on its way to continental expansion in the next decades.[1]

              Napoleon is primarily remembered as French because of his accomplishments for France, even though he could be considered much more Italian at birth.  How does Columbus still remain an Italian even though his accomplishments led to the glory of Spain?  If Italians are unhappy with the “woke mob’s” treatment of Columbus, they should start celebrating August 15^th, Napoleon’s birthday as a new day of ethnic pride. 

The Problems with Nationalism

              Modern day nationalisms rarely offer people anything more than simplistic explanations of their heritage and why their ethnicity should be celebrated.  Columbus’s own life and accomplishments are very much an attribute to this.  In fact his own life, seems to transcend simple national identity.  Born in Genoa, sailed for Spain, explored the Caribbean and South America, and now celebrated by descendants of mostly Southern Italian immigrants.   If those who canonize Columbus, could understand his small connections to being Italian, then they might also be able to understand why descendants of indigenous peoples might not want to celebrate his legacy.  But maybe I’m being a little too optimistic. 

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[1] One should note, that Napoleon only gained control of the Louisiana territory because he had installed his brother as the King of Spain.  Some actually wondered if he had the right to sell territory which was only marginally his.

A Letter to President Trump

Dear President Trump,

          During these deeply troubling times, I am very worried about the health and vigor of our economy. As the leader of the greatest country on Earth, you obviously share my concern and are determined, either by hook or by crook, to right this Ship of State and set a course that will lead to prosperity for all Americans. Even the least of us. I also know that this insidious virus which is attacking the very foundation of our society has deeply affected you in a most personal manner. If the reports that I recently read are actually true and not just another example of fake news put out by the media, you, Eric, and Don Jr. are being forced to ask Deutsche Bank to delay payments on some outstanding loans that you took out from them.

First of all, I’d like to ask you why in the world did you secure a loan from that bank? Didn’t you know that the bank loaned the Gestapo funds to build Auschwitz? I guess that wasn’t a concern of yours before you became President, but I think only a handful of your supporters (you know, the ones wearing the brown shirts and armbands) would think that was a good move. But that’s beside the point, the point being that it doesn’t look too good when the leader of our country has to admit that hard times have befallen his organization and he has to go begging a bank from Deutscheland to give him a break. And what happens if the deal goes south? I can tell you me, it’s going to feel like you got Das Boot shoved up your rear end. And to John Q. Public, you’re going to look a lot weaker than Joe Bidingmytime.

          Anyway, I know that all of the hotels in the world are hurting big time right now and have many vacancies because at a time like this, who’s thinking of vacations and partying until they drop? Like me, prospective guests are probably humming Staying Alive, that Bee Gees hit that you danced to when you were hitting all of the discos and clubs back in the 70’s. I can only imagine what you’re going through now. So I’ve been racking my brain thinking of ways that I could help you cross your own bridge over troubled water and I think I may have just come up with an idea that I’d like to pitch to you. And because I know you don’t like to spend a lot of time reading and I think you might be interested in my idea, please have either Jared or Ivanka read this letter to you, and, like the lyrics in Kind of a Drag, just “listen to what I’ve gotta say.” 

Like I said, I don’t think it looks too good for a man as rich and powerful as you to go hat in hand begging for some dough to tide him over. And even though Congress passed a bill that will give businesses plenty of cash, how’s it going to look if people see you with your nose in the trough? Now, you can try to hide the fact that you’re trying to get bailed out, but you know the media. Somebody who nobody ever heard of will uncover the deal and you know what the fake news police will do with that piece of info. They’ll scream about the bailout and you might wind up having to go through another impeachment hoax.

And even if it doesn’t go that far, they’ll still try to skewer you till you squeal. But as we all know, you’ll never do that. I mean you deny everything. You denied that your buddy Vlad helped you get the seat at the head of the table. And you denied putting the squeeze on the comedian from the Ukraine. But to me, the best one was your denial of sharing some down time with Stormy, the stripper and porn star. The bottom line on that one? Her lawyer and your mouthpiece both wind up doing time, she is now doing her act for pennies in strip joints around the country, and you walk, free and cleared of any wrongdoing. As they say in Jersey, Bootiful!  

And now that I think about it, I’m not sure that Stormy should be allowed to continue performing in those strip joints. Yeah, I know that what she does would be considered essential by some of those birdbrain governors on TV (I’m thinking Georgia and Florida, to name a couple), but I don’t think she should be allowed to drag your name through those mud wrestling contests that you so greatly enjoy. And besides, even if she has to file for unemployment, I’m sure that many of the John Does waiting in line at the Labor of Love Department would be glad to fork over a couple of bucks to get in on her act, if you know what I mean, and I’m sure you do.

But all of that attention on your supposed misdeeds will add a little more stress to life at home, and who needs that? I know that Melania’s been all tied up with her anti-bullying campaign and has been taking a low profile lately. And how long has it been since you’ve been able to hit the links and drive those balls of yours down the center of each hole on the course, if you catch my drift. What, maybe a week? It must be killing you. I think that’s the main reason you’re probably not stressing the importance of that whole social distancing thing. If you follow Fauci’s Law, you won’t even be able to get a sniff.

          Now I know that some of your so-called advisors might be suggesting that you go the Chapter 11 route. You know, guys like Sheldon, Steve, and some of those other Vegas do-gooders. And I know you are skilled at going down that road, being that all of your casinos went belly up in Atlantic City. I mean, let’s face it, Nucky Thompson you’re not. But then again, how’s it going to look if the President and the author of The Art of the Deal, or was it The Art of the Steal, I can’t remember, has to restructure his debt. Not exactly uplifting news for those sharks down on Wall Street. They’d eat you and yours before the final bell and crap you out before posting the next day’s futures. 

Let me put it to you in another way. Remember that old Canon camera ad where Andre Agassi said image is everything? Well, I think that’s true, particularly in your case, and I think it’s really important for you to maintain the image that your followers have come to know and love, at least until after the election. And speaking about projecting an image of power and strength, when you do those daily briefings about the virus, please stop making those weird faces when you’re not at the lectern. You look like a kid who has ADHD and has no interest in what anybody else says. You know, man up and try to at least look presidential.

         

So much for the philosophizing and hand holding. I mean, all I really want to do is baby, be friends with you. Nah, just kidding. Cher would probably still like to belt out that tune but unfortunately for her, Sonny and Greg are nowhere to be found and I don’t know if there are any available Westworld replacements for them, the studio having burned down during those fires out in LA. Well, at least you don’t have to include those bodies in the daily death counts. You know, part of me thinks the media continually post those numbers in the corner of everybody’s television so that all of the gamblers who have nothing to bet on can play the over-under game. For my money, I think they ought to also post the point spreads between the states and list the odds of covering the spreads. Doing so is sure to increase ratings and up the ad revenues for the networks.

And as you probably know, the Breaking News angle just isn’t cutting it anymore. I mean, how much news can you break in a day? And without you, there probably wouldn’t be any news at all. Just stories about murders, drug busts, fires, and pile-ups on Highway 61, the same highway on which Bessie Smith was killed. And who might Bessie Smith be, you ask? Well, she is generally considered to be one of the greatest blues singers of all time. But like most of the people in our country, you’ve probably never listened to any of her recordings. But then again, you might have because she sang some pretty racy songs, like I’m Wild About That Thing and Empty Bed Blues. Poor Bessie. Long gone, and mostly forgotten. Sounds like a song for the times we’re living in.

But on the brighter side, I’m writing this letter to share my idea with you. It’s an idea that I think is right up your alley. So here goes. You know how some states are taking over hotels and converting them into hospitals because of the shortage of beds for Covid patients. That really makes for a heartwarming story on the nightly news. Now I wouldn’t expect you to convert any of your properties into hospitals in an act of noblesse oblige, even though your hotels are not doing great business these days. That would be overly generous of you and let’s just say that you don’t exactly have a reputation as being one of the world’s great philanthropists. I’m thinking Trump Foundation. Need I say more?

          No, my idea is for you and your sons to convert your underperforming properties into Covid 19 Luxury Resorts and Casinos for infected members of the what you might call the upper class. You know, the one to ten percenters. As you know, this deadly virus has found its way into boardrooms, mansions, castles, and country clubs, here and around the world. It seems like no one is being spared, regardless of their rank or social standing. Now the way I see it, why would any member who resides in the upper crust want to bed down with a bunch of the hoi polloi in some makeshift hospital in Central Park or in some God forsaken football stadium that houses the likes of the New York Jets or Giants? Gillette Stadium, maybe, but now that your buddy Bob Kraft and Tom Brady are going their separate ways, I think that’s a losing proposition.

Hey, speaking about propositions, how’s Bob doing these days? I haven’t seen or heard much about him since he got caught in that sting operation at some rinky dink massage parlor. He should have called you first before venturing there. I’m sure you would have given him the numbers of some girls who know how to give a relaxing massage without the worry of being booked for soliciting.

And besides, you think Bob would have learned his lesson after Brady got nabbed for deflating his balls. I just hope that Gisele wasn’t all in on that deal. It could have some adverse effects on them if they like playing Texas Hold’em together. Oh well, I guess some of the rich and famous think they can just keep treating us all like a bunch of street walkers who sell their wares to the cheapest bidders. Simply tragic about Bob, though. From champ to chump in the span of a few weeks. 

Well, there I go again. Opining on the state of affairs, or is it the affairs of the state? I guess I should leave that to your friends at Fox, you know guys like Bill O’Reilly and Roger Ailes. Oops, as they say, my bad. I forgot that Roger is now head of programming at that network down under, and I don’t mean in Rupert’s Australia. I’m sure that he’s doing one hell of a job. As for Bill, I heard that he was spotted at the unemployment office, along with his fellow broadcasters Matt and Charlie. I just hope for their sake that they’re maintaining appropriate social distances so that their advances can’t be heard by passing strangers.

Again, these guys made a serious mistake by not calling you before making off putting remarks and putting their hands where they don’t belong. I mean, you got nailed on videotape talking locker room trash to Billy Bush and where did that get you? In the top spot in the country and responsible for hiring some real lookers. Like Hope Hicks. I wanted to ask you about her. Is it true that her real name is Hope Hickey and that you made her change it because you thought it might raise eyebrows around the capital and make people think you were using the desk in the Oval Office in more creative ways than Bill Clinton? I mean, from what I can see, there’s never anything on your desk and it could easily be transformed into a piece of furniture to do the nasty. Well, I guess you would claim “executive privilege” on that one after talking it over with Bill Barr, so I won’t press you for an answer.

Funny name, though, for your Attorney General. I wonder, does he have a sister Katy, as in Katy, bar the door, which is a Southern expression that means watch out, trouble’s coming. And do you know if anybody calls Bill Willie? Because if they do, you could scream out, “Say hey Willie, bar the door” when you’re having a bad hair day.

         

Anyway, back to my idea. Do you think anyone living in the lap of luxury wants to isolate themselves from the things that they love and crave? Just think of it this way. You’re rolling in a little less dough than you were a few months ago, you’re sick with this awful virus, and you want to make a speedy recovery in a style that you’re accustomed to. Why not book an extended stay at a Trump Covid 19 Luxury Resort and Casino?

         

Now, take a minute and wrap your head around some of the amenities that could be offered at one of your Trump resorts. Things like salt water pools with up close views of the ocean and the butts of some of the world’s most pampered women, swim-up bars, spa treatments, online shopping at the best of stores, and gourmet meals prepared by world class and currently unemployed chefs from around the globe and flown in by airplanes from one of our bailed out airlines. Additional features could include golf (on regular and miniature styled courses), polo, and bareback riding (for ladies only).

And for those who are further on down the road to recovery, you could offer ocean tours on luxurious yachts. And I’m not talking about three hour tours to Gilligan’s Island. I’m talking about tours to some of the most pristine and beautiful beaches in the world, the rolling hills of Scotland, and the green fields of Ireland. And the best part of the tours is that there are no crowds to deal with because all of the natives are sequestered in their homes due to the outbreak.

For those willing to go the extra mile and spend a lot more of their money, you could also customize excursions on the tours to meet individual tastes. You could call them Magical Mystery Tours to pique interest. For instance, at your Scottish resort, you could arrange for a tour of the areas depicted in Braveheart. Why heck, you could even get Mel Gibson to reenact his favorite scenes from the movie. I’m sure the audience would just love hearing William Wallace, I mean Mel, scream out “Freedom” right before he gets the axe. Of course, we would have to make sure that Mel doesn’t have the opportunity to imbibe any grog before the performance because he might decide to improvise and do something reckless, like attacking members of the audience or throwing King Edward I out the window of his castle as he lay on his deathbed. 

By the way, I thought the role of King Edward I was played masterfully by Patrick McGoohan in the film. I always liked Pat and really enjoyed him in the short lived but highly acclaimed series The Prisoner. You know, the show where he played a captured spy and was always being chased by a big ball and had to repeatedly emote, in Shakespearian fashion, “I am not a number. I’m a free man.” I bet you would love to have a set of those balls so that you could confine all of those whistleblowers (i.e. dirty rats) and bearers of bad news to their cages. Maybe during the next go round in the budget process, you can seek to add a supplemental line for your own set of balls. You know, that’s exactly how George W. got the cash to fund his Don Quixote-like quest for WMD’s in Iraq. And I say, what’s good for Don Quixote is good for Don Trump. I mean, the both of you have a lot in common. You both do a lot of tilting at windmills, and I don’t mean the kind that kill all of those bald eagles in California, as I once heard you say. But getting back to Pat, I would love to have him reprise the role of the Prisoner as a warm-up to the Braveheart production, but unfortunately, he exited stage left a number of years ago and is no longer with us. Too bad. 

In addition, if guests were lucky enough to stay at the Trump Resort in Ireland and theater was their thing, you could offer soliloquies from Sam Beckett’s Waiting for Godot and Jimmy Joyce’s Ulysses delivered by some of the finest actors on the shuttered Irish stages. I’m sure that the audience would greatly appreciate Lucky’s speech in Waiting for Godot, even though they’ll have no idea what it’s about. But that’s good old Sam for you. Dark and deep. Did you know that his death wasn’t announced until after he was buried in Paris? His final wish, so to speak. Oh, I forgot. You have no interest in the theater and probably thought I was talking about Boris Becker, the tennis player. Oh well, you’d probably not much care for Jimmy Joyce’s Ulysses although you might enjoy Molly Bloom’s soliloquy while she was in bed with her husband Leopold and thinking about things of an intimate nature, so to speak. And if a guest is not into that highbrow sort of thing, they can always sit back and enjoy a performance by Celtic Woman. Some of those Irish lasses could easily lead you into a “stream of consciousness.”

And if you booked an extended stay at the Trump resort in Florida, guests could take advantage of an excursion to Disney World and enjoy attractions such as It’s a Small World, the Haunted Mansion which could be filled with real bats, and Pirates of the Caribbean, although I think that ride needs a little updating. How cool would it be if the 18^th Century pirates were replaced by modern day thieves and scoundrels (I’m thinking Jeff Bezos, Mark Zuckerberg, Jamie Dimon, the entire Walton family, and maybe even Steve the Munchkin Mnuchin, who also doubles as the Secretary of the Treasury). And no trip to Florida would be complete without excursions to the alligator-filled Everglades and Fort Lauderdale’s harbors where some of the world’s biggest cruise ships are temporarily docked and being decontaminated.

And I bet the guests would really like to board the Celebrity cruise ship that was used in the commercial that featured the singing of White Rabbit by Grace Slick of the Jefferson Airplane. I thought the use of that song with its references to drugs was an odd advertising ploy. But then again, maybe Celebrity was trying to equate a cruise with a “trip” that was out of this world. And to some of the passengers on the competing Princess line, I am sure it was. Right into the next one.

And you could provide the guests on the Celebrity ship with “tastings” of some exotic drugs to enhance the trip and then pipe in an updated version of White Rabbit that was sung by Grace and contained the following lyrics: 

One pill makes you larger, and one pill makes you small

And the ones that the President gives you, don’t do anything at all

Go ask Fauci, when he’s ten feet tall

And if you go buying fake cures, and you know you’re going to fall

Tell ‘em a hot headed hotelier has given you the call

And call Fauci, when he was just small

When the men at the lectern get up and tell you where to go

And you’ve just had some hydroxychloroquine, and your mind is moving low

Go ask Fauci, I think he’ll know

When the captain and the passengers have fallen sloppy dead

And the President is talking backwards

And the first lady’s off with her head

Remember what General Surgeon said

Stop the spread

Stop the spread

Would the guests be freaked out, or what? And who said Timothy Leary was dead?

And speaking about Tony, I read that you are thinking about canning him. Did you take some of those drugs on the Celebrity cruise ship or are you just out of your mind? If you give him the axe, you are making a huge mistake. Like Napolean invading Russia or Saddam Hussein taking over the oil fields in Kuwait. Or Amelia Earhart trying to fly around the world. I mean, people really trust Tony and are banking on him to save us all. And he may be short, but I bet he packs a punch that could knock you into next week if you mess with him. So I would seriously reconsider that idea of yours. 

          But getting back to those excursions, for those one to ten percenters out in the Los Angeles resort, they might like to take a trip to Bob Dylan’s home in Malibu and ask him to sing a few bars of Lay, Lady, Lay, you know the song about him and his big brass bed. I’m sure that you can relate to those lyrics. But Bob would probably tell them to take their boots of Spanish leather and go for an extended walk along the watchtower. And even if he agreed to sing the song, he’d probably sing a new rendition of it so that they wouldn’t recognize it. What a joker and a thief!  

And what I think would really be a big draw on the excursion would be window shopping at some of those ritzy stores on Rodeo Drive. I am sure looking at empty displays would bring back a lot of The Way We Were kind of memories. But of course, the highlight of the excursion would be tours of the Hollywood backlots, places where many of the guests made their fortunes. Maybe you could even get some A-listers to reprise some of their favorite roles. For instance, can you imagine how awesome it would be to see Marty and Charlie Sheen do that scene at the end of Apocalypse Now? Of course, Marty would have to do a stand in for Marlon since Stanley, I mean Marlon, went in on a time share with Colonel Kurtz a while ago. And Charlie could draw on his experience in Platoon and Anger Management to help Captain Willard bring down the curtain on Colonel Kurtz. Oh, the horror!

And for those recovering guests who are not ready for excursions or some of the more strenuous activities at your resorts, online business courses could be offered by professors from the now defunct Trump University. Skyped workshops could be also be provided by some of your currently employed Cabinet members who have real expertise in their fields, people like Larry Kudlow, Ben Carson, Betsy DeVos, and Wilbur Ross. Topics for the workshops could include How to Short Stocks in a Bear Market, How to Gentrify Public Housing Projects, How to Take Advantage of the Online Learning Craze, and How to Acquire and Restructure Failing Businesses. So timely during the current crisis, and probably so well received by the high heeled and almost healed guests in your resorts.

          And as for the casinos, you could offer the usual array of table games so that the high rollers, and I mean high from all the drugs that got pumped into them through their IV’s, would willingly hand over their money to the blackjack and poker dealers, the guys spinning the roulette wheels, and the pit bosses at the craps tables. The fact that those guys would be wearing masks would heighten the drama but at least everyone would know, right from the get go, that they were going to get robbed.

And since you couldn’t offer sports betting because there’s no sports to bet on, I came up with a virtual reality game called Russian Roulette that would be broadcast on a big high-def screen in the casino. The game would be played just like the real game and would involve you and four of your best friends taking turns firing a gun that had a bullet in one of its chambers and trying to avoid blowing either your or their brains out. I chose Vlad, MBS, Kim, and Jair because most people would like to see their reigns end with their brains splattered all over the place. But you could easily change the players based upon yours or the guests’ preferences. Knowing you, the players would probably be Nancy, Jim, Adam, and Bob. Maybe even Jeff, Barack, or Johnny Mac but I think he would be a bad choice because he already departed the scene and most people would like to remember him as a war hero with his brains intact.

You probably noticed that I left one seat open at the table. I would like to fill that seat with a virtual Christopher Walken because he’s one of my personal favorites and he played the game like a champion in The Deer Hunter. And besides, the game is set in Saigon during the Viet Nam War, a war you missed because of those painful bone spurs of yours. And the guests in the casino would play the role of the onlookers in the movie and scream and bet on the players as they took turns pointing the gun at their heads and firing. Sounds exciting, doesn’t it?

          And another game that I think would be a big hit in the casino is a live version of the show Shark Tank. We could skype in Lori, Mark, Kevin, Robert, Barbara, and Daymond from their gazillion dollar digs and display them on the hi-def screen in the casino. We could then recruit the guests to play the game and work in teams to create products that are made for these times (like reusable toilet paper, electrical devices that shock people who get closer to you than six feet, and gizmos that continually sanitize your clothes while you’re wearing them). The teams would then make presentations to the sharks and attempt to extract as much money from them as possible. I think your guests would love to play the game in order to recoup money they lost in the stock market and increase the size of their portfolios. I know that’s important to you, too. And I think the game could replace the currently running show which is increasingly irrelevant and shown repeatedly in re-runs. Think of the cash that can be made from the show if you can make a deal with a network for national syndication!

And finally, I think there’s a mint to be made in the casino by broadcasting, live to the nation, a revamped version of the Apprentice, the baby that made you who you are today. Can you imagine the interest and the ratings of a show that has recovering Covid patients teaming up to come up with ad campaigns, corporate schemes, and ways to solve some of the problems facing our elite guests (like how to ditch AOC and the Green New Deal, how to prevent the minimum wage from becoming a living wage, and how to stop Morrison’s Spanish Caravan from overrunning their estates).

I’d like to offer you an aside on Jim, who was a pretty good poet as well as a great singer.  You probably don’t know that some of his songs contain abstruse phrases that are hard to decipher. Take, for instance, the last lines in the Soft Parade:

When all else fails

We can whip the horse’s eyes

And make them sleep

And cry

Say what, say you? Turns out, the lines were a reference to a supposed experience of Friedrich Nietzsche, the existential philosopher whom I doubt you ever heard of. But the lines do cause a listener to pause and think. And they did make for a dramatic ending to the song. And if you substitute “I can tweet nasty things about those who oppose me” for “We can whip the horse’s eyes,” that pretty much sums you up, both as a person and a President. So you just might want to soften your stride as you parade on by. Jim might like that. Who knows?

Anyway, getting back to the Apprentice. Just to hear you, our head of state, the CEO of the biggest corporation on Earth, so clearly and cooly declare, “You’re fired!” would, without a doubt, warm the hearts of your supporters and scare the hell out of all your current Cabinet members and administrative staff. I mean, they do know that all of their jobs are temporary, at best. And the fact that the winner of the game would be given the Cabinet position of his/her choice would surely add to the suspense for the entire nation. Can you imagine the ratings on the night the winner was announced and the Cabinet position chosen? I can just see Kellyanne doing a Faye Dunaway in that scene from Network when she hears that people all over the country are screaming out their windows, “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore.” Like Faye, I can picture Kellyanne throwing her phone into the air and screeching, “We’ve hit the mother lode.” What a ratings bonanza!

And what would a casino be without live entertainment? So I’ve been looking around and I think I found a couple of acts. The first group calls themselves The Central Park Five and is kind of like a tribute band, a tribute to you and your desire to execute those five kids for the rape of that jogger in Central Park a long time ago. As you know, you didn’t get your wish, but they all did some hard time. It must have felt weird for you when they were cleared by a DNA test. Anyway, I heard that they have no hard feelings about the ordeal they were put through. I mean why would they? They sued the city and pocketed millions of bucks. That’s a hell of a lot more than they would have made slinging burgers at Mickey D’s. Anyway, the group does a lot of Motown classics and soul music. Now I don’t know if you’re a fan of Motown or not, but I bet it’ll get your motor running when you start singing along to the following lyrics from one of their songs, and that is Reach Out I’ll Be There by the Four Tops:

Now if you feel that you can’t go on

Because all of your hope is gone

And your life is filled with so much confusion

Until happiness is just an illusion

And your world around is crumblin’ down

Darling, reach out, come on girl, reach on out for me

Reach out, reach out for me.  

Timely, to say the least. Except that now, I think they’ll need to add a couple of lines at the end, something like

But please stay six feet away from me

Or I’ll find myself six feet under you.

In keeping with the crime and punishment theme, you can also book a Police tribute band that can belt out numbers like Don’t Stand So Close to Me and Every Breath You Take. And the Clash tribute band could get the gamblers in the mood for shelling out big bucks while listening to Clampdown and Should I Stay or Should I Go? And how great would it be to have Marla Maples team up with Mavis Staples to sing classics like Respect Yourself? Staples and Maples or Maples and Staples? I like the latter name even though I know Mavis should get top billing. I also know that Marla doesn’t have much of voice, but she was in the Broadway musical The Will Rogers Follies and appeared on Dancing with the Stars. Not exactly a stellar career, but where would she be without you? And you know, I would be willing to bet that her turn toward spirituality after your breakup was her way of giving thanks to the Almighty.

But to turn the casino into a cash cow that just keeps on giving, you are going to have to find a way to milk the general public. I mean, those uppity types who actually book a stay at your resort pretty much live by the phrase from the King James Bible, which says, “A fool and his money are soon parted.” I mean they may fork over a dollar here and a dollar there, but they tend to squeeze their wallets tighter than you did to Stormy or the guy on the other end of the perfect call. No, you need to tap the resources of the majority of Americans, you know, the ones who buy into the dollar and a dream and the you’ve got to be in it to win it hype. So, like all of the experts say, that’s why testing is so important. At all costs, you need to keep the infected players out of the casinos so that you don’t run short of cashiers, cooks, matrons, security guards, and all of the other essential workers. So, please push hard to find a test that produces immediate results. Ideally, you could have everyone swabbed when they pull up to park their cars. Then by the time they get to the front door, you’ll have the results for them. Clean in, infected out. Plus, you could give the winners some free play and provide the losers with the locations of the nearest walk-in clinic and fleabag motel where they can quarantine themselves until they’re all better and can pass your entrance exam.

And just think of the money to be made off those who are unemployed, deprived, and economically disadvantaged. You and I know that as soon as they get those checks from My Rich Uncle Sam, that dough is going right back into your slot machines. The heck with food and rent, this is a crisis we’re all living through and the only way not to lose your mind is by taking chances on losing whatever cash that you have in hand. And please, whatever you do, and it doesn’t look like much, make sure to continue issuing as many monthly checks as possible to those poor souls who have lost so much, both at home and in your casinos. Without their contributions, you’re sure to see a downturn in your operation. So just to recap, get Jerry Powell to print billions of bucks, give almost everybody a piece of the pie, and then let the healthy ones give it right back to you in the casino. And don’t forget that the infected ones are just waiting in line to do what they can do to help you out sometime in the future. And if you execute the plan correctly, you come out looking like a cross between Robin Hood and Mother Theresa. Definitely, the art of the steal.

Now getting back to the suffering guests at a Trump Covid 19 Luxury Resort and Casino, you could offer the more seriously afflicted individuals who were in need of care by highly trained and compassionate workers one of the most attractive features of the resorts. It would be a challenge but I think you are up to it. You could begin a nationwide search for health care workers who were infected but now fully recovered. The word on the street is that the brainiacs in the scientific community are working on ways to find those people. If they can find them, you can hire them. And because they are now immune to the deadly virus, they would have no need for gowns, masks, and PPE that could scare the bejesus out of the bravest of your guests.

Think of it this way. If you were sick, would you want to be cared for by workers who were decked out in garb that looked like it was made for astronauts or would you rather be catered to by people who were dressed as butlers or maids right out of Downton Abbey? Wouldn’t it be simply smashing to be addressed as my lady or my lord as you lay sick in bed? And if English wasn’t their cup of tea, you could dress the workers in costumes from the Bunuel film The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie and train them to make absurd responses to questions from their patients. The surrealism of the interactions might alter the guests’ views of their status in life, but I tend to doubt it. As Luis might say, you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him say the rosary while standing on his head.

          But until our scientists figure out which workers are immune to the virus, they’ll have to keep using the astronaut costumes. And by the way, I’d like to know why you are constantly being bombarded with the complaint about there being a shortage of masks for our health care workers? I’ve heard it through the grapevine that there is company in Berkeley that has the ability to mass produce thousands of masks at the drop of a hat. The CEO’s of the company are diehards from the Weather Underground and Symbionese Liberation Army who are pretending to be capitalists and trying to make money by producing and marketing a product for the masses. So they a got a patent on face masks, but they’re not like the N95’s made in China. Their masks are perfectly safe because they cover the wearer’s entire face and are made of plastic.

The masks do, however, have one drawback that could make them a hard sell. The drawback is that the face of Guy Fawkes is on every one of the them. You know the mask if you saw the movie V for Vendetta. You see, Guy was one of the guys who tried, but failed, to blow up England’s House of Lords in 1605. So it’s not exactly the face you’d like to see the first thing in the morning if you’re sick and tired of being singled out for having an overabundance of cash. Plus, the masks are packaged in boxes of a thousand and there are specific instructions that wearers should huddle together when wearing them in order to scare rich folks to death. No social distancing if you happen to be a soldier in Guy’s army!

Also included with the masks are specific instructions on how to blow up symbols of wealth in our country, things like the Wall Street bull, the Bellagio fountains, and all of the Maseratis and Rolls Royces in Beverly Hills. So, I don’t know if the product would be a hit with your guests, but I’m sure that the workers of the world would say to give it a shot. 

     

And for those rich souls who are in really critical condition and unlikely to make it, it would be only the best for the best. Brand new, state of the art ventilators, taken right from the stockpile in Say Hey Willie, bar the door to the basement where they’re stashed. Probably right next to the love letters from Rudy and the boxes of incriminating evidence that was never shared with the Democrats during your impeachment trial.

And should those very few members of the ruling class move on to meet their maker, you could offer family members gold plated coffins and the opportunity of holding services presided over by some of the biggest televangelists in the country. Of course, the preachers would have to be enclosed in hermetically sealed booths to protect them and prevent any hot air from escaping. They are all available at the present time because their megachurches are closed due to the virus. I know that they are interested because their revenues are way down and they are all parroting the party line, saying that the crisis is the work of Satan in the hope that using his name will increase their online donations. For the life of me, I don’t know why when things go bad, so many preachers resort to blaming him. Poor guy, I’m sure that by now he must have realized he made a huge mistake by trying to muscle in on the big guy’s turf. I say, show the devil a little sympathy and maybe he’ll turn over a new leaf.

And besides, those televangelists always have that steady stream of income from the regulars who tithe, even though the cash that comes in when they pass the plate is substantial and very hard to track by the IRS. Now tithing, that’s an interesting investment strategy. It’s like a whole life and death policy rolled into one. And it’s a good way to hedge your bets on the afterlife. Small payments now, big payoff at the end. 

Oh, by the way, I forgot to mention crowd size at the funerals. I know that’s a topic that is near and dear to that big heart of yours. No problem there. You can contract that job out to any CGI company. They’re all dying for work (no pun intended) and I’m sure you can have the company that you choose customize the look and size of the crowd so that friends and family who are not able to attend because of the virus can marvel at some of the celebrities in attendance. Why, you can include royalty, movie stars, and even yourself. You can also include people who are no longer with us in the audience, maybe people like Gandhi, Moses, and St. Francis of Assisi. Just like the cover of the Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album.

Copies can then be made and sold to friends and family so that they have a keepsake of the ceremony. I do think it would be wise to have the guests fill out a questionnaire about who they would like to attend such a ceremony when they register just in case they don’t get the chance to check out in the usual manner. Like I always say, we all want to go out in style. And in a Trump Covid 19 Luxury Resort and Casino, the last wishes for those unfortunate few will be your command.

And finally, what do many of the elites want to do more than anything? If you said rub elbows with celebrities and heads of state, you would be correct. So why not grant them their wish and have them do meet and greets with celebs who are fellow sufferers, people like Boris Johnson, Rand Paul, and maybe even Prince Charles. I am sure that those famous folks would like to recover within the confines of your resorts and would be happy to share war stories with members of the uppity class.

Now that Boris is out of the hospital, I am sure that he would prefer the amenities of an exclusive Trump resort over those offered in 10 Downing Street. On top of all the stress associated with the virus, he has had to deal with the turmoil that goes along with Brexit. And I do mean turmoil. Enough turmoil to take one’s breath away, even before one felt more than a bit under the weather after contracting the virus. And according to some polls, almost half the country was not opposed to Boris’ brexiting the planet. Poor chap. Maybe if he changed his hairstyle, he could increase his poll numbers. And in one of your resorts, he could get the do of a lifetime.

Rand, on the other hand, has a reputation for being difficult and hard to get along with. He might be as opposed to the idea of story time at your resort as he is to just about everything that comes his way in the Senate. Some say that this opposition stems from his libertarian views on the role of government in our lives, but I think it goes much deeper than that. I don’t know if you are aware that Rand was named after Ayn Rand, the author and philosopher who Rand’s father Ron adores. Ayn came up with a lot of theories related to rational self-interest and a bunch of other mumbo jumbo about the individual and society. Her theories have mostly been discarded but Rand still seems to buy into them.

Well, my theory is that the reason Rand is such a pain in the behind is because he resents being named Rand. I mean, how many Rands do you know? Only one, which goes right along with Ayn’s philosophy. And can you imagine how difficult it’s been going through life with a name like Rand? I mean, how many times do you think he has been called Paul Rand? And how many times do you think he has had to correct people who call him by the wrong name and explain where his first name came from. And when he was growing up, kids, being kids, might have made fun of him by calling him names like Canned Ham Rand, Land Ho Rand, and Grand Old Rand. And even when he got caught red-handed swimming in the Senate pool while he was sick, he didn’t even try to make people understand why he needed to take a dip. But, if by some chance, he agrees to come to your resort, don’t expect Rand to shake hands with the guests.  He might be willing to take some selfies with them and do some grandstanding, though.

And while I’m talking about Paul, I mean Rand, I feel that something needs to be said about Mitch McConnell, the other Senator who represents the state of Kentucky. Now as far as I know, Mitch has not yet come down with a case of the virus, probably because he is so masterful at social and class distancing. It’s almost like he invented the term distancing. And as for many of the Democrats in the Senate, they would probably like to further increase the distance between Mitch and themselves and might even offer to pick up the tab for his stay at one of your resorts. I mean, it’s gotten so bad that when Mitch makes one of his speeches in the Senate Chamber and blames the Democrats for everything, they send a group text to each other which says Hey, Hey, he ain’t no Henry Clay, who, if you recall, that is, if you ever knew, was the Kentucky Senator who played a key role in the passage of the Missouri Compromise and the Compromise of 1850. And compromise is not the word that comes to mind when a lot of people think of Mitch.

So, there you have it. Mitch and Rand. And, if by chance, you exchange the first letter in their names and combine them, the name that would roll off your licking good tongue, if you said it aloud, would be Rich Man. No mention of Poor Man, as it should be in My Old Kentucky Home, with all of those thoroughbreds, mint juleps, and fancy hats on the heads of those oh so sophisticated Southern ladies.

And finally, wouldn’t it be simply smashing to have Prince Charles, the future King of England, check into one of your resorts for an extended stay? A real get, as the common folk might say. I’m sure the guests would be thrilled to hear how he battled the virus in Balmoral Castle, which is in Scotland, a great deal further than a stone’s throw from Buckingham Palace, home to the Queen. Talk about social distancing. He and Camilla both chose to self-isolate but the British tabloids claimed that the story was a cover-up because the couple, like so many in the Royal Family, are going through a rough patch in their marriage. But such is the fate of the many heirs to the British throne, a throne coveted by so many, but ascended to by so few.

And in Charles’ case, his fate is particularly cruel, for he has been the heir apparent for seventy-one years, a record that he would prefer not to hold. And with the Queen’s track record, he may never have the opportunity of being addressed as Your Majesty. A Shakespearean tragedy, for certain. But maybe with some prodding, his highness to be would be willing to deliver some of the more memorable quotes from Hamlet to the most privileged guests and yourself. Lines like,

“Neither a borrower nor a lender be”

“Though this be madness, yet there is method in’t”

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks”

“I must be cruel only to be kind”

“How all occasions do inform against me, and spur my dull revenge”

“That one may smile and smile and be a villain”

“To sleep, perchance to dream, ay, there’s the rub”

Can you imagine the passion he would deliver those lines with? No, eh. Well, neither can anyone else who has ever met the Prince. But still, having the future King of England in your resort would mean a great deal to the privileged few who have the opportunity of meeting him. And by the way, if your buddy Bob Kraft ever decides to open up a massage parlor as a way of demonstrating his commitment to community service, I think that last quote should be made into a sign and placed over the door to the establishment.

And so doth ends the pitch and the plan. Do with them as you see fit. But remember, there is much to be gained, and little to lose, if you so choose to adhere to the pitch and follow the plan. First, and foremost, you will henceforth be known as Donald the Magnificent, a man of generous spirit, a man willing to relinquish his holdings for the benefit of others. Second, those of wealth and privilege will be cared for in a manner that they both deserve and desire. And last, the least among us will be treated, not as commoners without a pillow to rest their weary heads upon, but as citizens who can finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Sincerely,       

Your Average Joe