Stephen Miller broke the lock on Trump’s kennel.

As I went through school, I never thought about what I was learning both from the teaching, and otherwise. Now that I am old, it has come to me that a lot of what I learned was not what was being taught. This was emphasized on the playground next to my house once I turned six years old, where the kids interacted without immediate interference by an adult. It turns out, that I began learning about people as soon as I began interacting with kids, and if there were no adults around, I could really learn.

One thing I learned right away is that fast feet will keep you from getting taken advantage of by a bully, perhaps, with the exception of the first interaction since you are not aware of the dance that the bullies do until they do it. Anyway, I now see that as I went through life, the metaphor of physical exchange allowed my brain to make a similar exchange on the, “thinking level” a concept that I appreciate better merely than saying, conscious level.

More to follow, but the appreciation of a vibe, no matter from where the Vibe may come, does not apparently elevate in every individual to the extent it elevated in my brain. I am lucky that my brain could process the interaction and, have me react and rhythm to the extent that I wasn’t violating any of my values in so reacting. Might as well put that “my” in quotes. 

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The foregoing did not directly create what is about the follow, but it did come after a dog walk.

The current situation in the United States, and especially how it is relating to an impacting, the rest of the world has captured my brain to some extent. I’m an old guy now, and as I went through life, I didn’t think about it very much except in the instance when a decision had to be made. I’m trying to figure out all of my immediate reactions to circumstances presented to me, and a significant part of my brain seems to be devoted into figuring out, “What is going on with Trump?”.

Somehow or another my brain decided that I should write a story about the first dog I knew. Sam was his name, and I learned that by watching sometime prior to when I was aware of what Sam was relative to what my parents and sister were. Nonetheless, I learned from him and the stories that he wrote as he went through life. Actually, the one I learned most from was Sam II, who came from the same estate that produced Sam and, like Sam, was the runt of his particular litter. I believe that there was decreased cost incurred for the best in the litter on the farm like estate outside of town. (Trump sees himself as an estate kid anyway, and he is like a runt in so many ways.)

It is interesting to me now, that Sams lineage is traced to an estate type piece of property that belong to someone that may well have gotten the property as a grant from William Penn at some point in the past. The town I grew up in had a number of families whose name was decades old in the stories of the town and the neighboring territories going back to the structure that was created by William Penn as I guess the owner of it all at one point. Anyway, it is also fitting that Sam was the runt of the litter and while he had status as a purebred Springer Spaniel, he went nearer to town with us where he lived on a run chain in the backyard of the house in which I lived. Before I turned six, we lived in a house on a street called Horseshoe Drive and we lived at the far curve from the loop start and finish on the main road that went by. Behind us was open field and then a pretty steep slope down to the creek probably 60 feet or so. To my knowledge, Sam was allowed free run of any property he cared to habitat. During that time it was known that he would impregnate other dogs from time to time, which I learned later in life as he practiced that same attitude at our next house, which was in the town, though it was the last house in town next to the woods that led down to the creek and then up a slope to the next town.

For a dog, especially a fully functional male Springer Spaniel. I cannot imagine a much freer environment in which to grow up than the one that Sam II had which was then entirely at that house except for the very end of his life. The thought of Sam II’s, who I am gonna call Sam from here after since I don’t like all that typing, is what caused this story to be written. When Sam was about a year or two old, we moved to another state and Sams environment changed to some degree but he was still granted a lot of freedom and still had the reputation of fathering, unexpected puppies, one of which we ended up taking in as our own. We lived on an island at that point, and he went from the canal down the middle to the shore on the US side on his own, and part of his environment included a nature reserve that also had cultivated red raspberries that were not commercially harvested. So, think of that freedom and the wide openness that he had, since there were neighborhoods in spurs throughout that otherwise wide-open property.

When I was going to school in Ann Arbor Michigan, Sam was getting kind of old and I ended up bringing him up there. I don’t know what was going through my mind, but I even taught him how to do the fire escape from my fraternity room down to the ground so he could use it for the bathroom break and that was a two-story wrought Iron structure. Anyway, he had freedom to walk around the neighborhood, and by that time I think he was pretty cognizant of cars and so on, but he ended up being caught and taken to the doggy jail where I went and found him and picked him up. Literally, he was sitting in the back of the cage, looking at me when I got to the gate.

By that time, it was clear that he shouldn’t be hanging out there and he was getting old anyway so he went back to the house on the island and that is where he died peacefully. But he did have his time in Ann Arbor, which was the biggest city, he ever saw in his life.

That story is the current metaphor that applies to Donald Trump’s behavior and effort at this time. Everybody that knows anything about the world economy sees his behavior now as absolutely flawed, and without hope of being carried out as he intends. His past efforts of business he was able to get by a lot of rules of behavior because of leverage he had because he didn’t even care about the law. He also didn’t care about the balance sheet, and he was always just running ahead of someone that was snapping at his heels. He was, in essence, living in a wide-open neighborhood where he could get away with all kinds of stuff. But until now all he had to deal with was US laws and the people in the US. Now, he hast to answer to the international review of what he’s doing, and they have centuries of history against which to measure him.

In the current instance, he has to find a way now to get loose of what he has created since the court effort that will be necessary to stop him would completely ruin him. That’s why I believe he needs to see a different path than has been presented out to him. He’s like Sam, on the island he could get away with almost anything he wanted to, but in Ann Arbor (international review) he couldn’t. I know it’s a stretch, but that’s exactly where Trump is right now. Everyone around him should try to save his ass and stop what he’s doing as soon as possible, but I’m not sure that people like Stephen Miller could ever shift their paradigm.