It’s been a week since the surreal realization came to me that Donald Trump would become the 45th President of the United States, an outcome that seemed about as likely as Harlan County, Kentucky, being named by Condé Nast Traveler as one of the top resort destinations in the world.
By the way, I don’t personally believe in the 5 stages of grief. Although Trump’s victory surprised me, there was no denying it (step 1). Not only did the headlines scream it, but the faces of my colleagues at work wore a degree of despondency I hadn’t seen since I walked the streets of Leningrad in ’89.
Nope, there was no denying it, nor, for that matter, any relief in getting pissed off (step 2). I’ve read To Kill a Mockingbird. I can “crawl” into Trump supporters’ skin and see things from their perspective (fear of the Big…
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