Editorial

Making Paul Anka cry

Friday, August 18, 2017

As things get more freaky by the minute in the Big House, our interim President twists in the wind every day as his own incompetence leads an increasing number of partisan supporters to flake away like dried pigeon droppings off a Robert E. Lee statue.

Through it all, Donald Trump continues swinging and missing at any and all political Wiffle Balls tossed delicately underhanded by his Kool-Aid slurpers and all the Tinker Bells of the world’s “press corps.”

This entire Trump schtick reminds us of the epic song “I " My Way,” written by Paul Anka and recorded for posterity by giants Sinatra and Elvis.

And as he persists in holding his thumb and forefinger together in a blatant scolding, condescending manner, we wish the following were among the many inexplicable, catastophic utterings leaking from Donald Trump’s pursed lips:

“And now, the end is near

And so I face the final curtain

My friend, I'll say it clear

I'll state my case, of which I'm certain

I've lived a life that's full

I traveled each and every highway

And more, much more than this, I did it my way

“Regrets, I've had a few

But then again, too few to mention

I did what I had to do and saw it through without exemption

I planned each charted course, each careful step along the byway

And more, much more than this, I did it my way”

“Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew

When I bit off more than I could chew

But through it all, when there was doubt

I ate it up and spit it out

I faced it all and I stood tall and did it my way”

Yes, let the record show, he did it his way, and we all shudder in shame and fear today knowing this is where it got us.