Have you ever heard that great, Depression-era song “Happy Days are Here Again?” It’s been playing in my head lately—rather annoyingly—and I couldn’t figure out why. Then I realized that my subconscious was thinking about Donald Trump, and it was being ironic.
For Trump, “Happy Days are Gone Forever” would be a more fitting song title. Three years into his president and with 100,000 Americans dead (and counting!), I can say with some certainty that he will never again be as popular as he was in 2016, not even among his own followers (many of who will soon be ex-followers, or dead from Coronavirus).
Sure, he might get to enjoy another racist Trump-rally or two, but never on the same scale as in the past. And even if Trump somehow manages to gain “re-election” this November through another Electoral College / Voter Suppression cluster-fuck, he will be a lame-duck whose approval numbers will drop like a turd down a well. As more and more previously sane people regain their senses, the GOP Senators and Reps who have so slavishly supported him for years will begin to distance themselves, at first, and then blatantly repudiate him. (“Trump? Who? Never heard of him.”)
Either this year, or in 2024, we will have a Democratic president. I guarantee it. And when that happens, the best Trump can hope for is a few more quiet years of life in semi-exile down in Mar-a-Lago, of the sort George W. Bush has suffered in Crawford, Texas. In the worst case, he ends up in state or Federal prison for one of the many laws he has broken both before and during his tenure as president (including, I believe, Conspiracy to Defraud the United States).
Trump’s most likely future, of course, lies somewhere between these scenarios. Deep down, we all know that he will probably escape prison. But he will be hounded by legal trouble, both criminal and civil, for the rest of his life. His business empire—such as it is—will go into immediate and catastrophic decline. His status as a beloved celebrity will transform into that of a pariah. And the legacy of wealth and influence that he had hoped to leave to his children will, instead, be one of debt, disgrace, and anonymity.
Hey. It couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.