When Donald Trump announced he was running for President, people scoffed. His earliest supporters were shushed, intellectuals informing America that he was a pompous ass and not to debase themselves by publicly approving someone who was so clearly a joke. 

As it became clearer he was no joke, and in the very least not one to be counted out, collective America was still stamped down. Don’t waste your vote to someone who doesn’t have a chance, we were told. 

But when the polls opened for early voting and they were packed from daylight till dark, and the plastic coat hanger signs popped up in yards,  and the campaign tour wore on, it became obvious he did have a chance. And blue collar America had a voice. And they were screaming. 

America turned out day after day to stand in line to cast their ballot for their best chance. Their only chance. And maybe their last chance. 

And by God, he won. He actually won. And we couldn’t believe our luck. So we rejoiced. And again, we were silenced. We were told it was over, to stop celebrating, whatever. In four years, they’d show us. We think it’s gonna be so great, but it’s gonna be a train wreck. 

And on Inauguration Day, Trump made yet another rousing speech, and it wasn’t a sugar coated backpedaling of all his promises from when he was lobbying for votes.  Once again we were told to hush, nobody wants to hear it, it’s over and he’s not “my President”. Well, bullshit. As long as you live in The United States of America, he’s your President whether you like it or not. The liberals are scared. They’re scared of the people they think they’ve made friends with. That’s why they made friends in the first place, because they’re too scared to fight. He may have not been your pick. You may have disliked your choices. But you have to look at the long term: who is going to be seated on the Supreme Court, who means business when it comes to terrorists, who has a better understanding of business.

When you look for a political candidate, I think it would serve us well to look at whom the military supports. The candidate who believes in our front line of defense. Because that’s who protects us. It ain’t the celebrities. It sure ain’t the sports superstars, or the shopkeepers, or your momma. It’s the men and women overseas, tromping through the desert with their M-16 strapped to their back. That’s who I believe in. Those who seek out evil, look it in the eye, and blow its head off, then march off on their next quest looking for the next one. Not some panty waist sitting safe at home, spewing their personal poison while refusing to eat Monsanto’s.

And the next day, the day after the Inaguaration, women marched. They marched because they’re oppressed. 

What’s that, now? I’m sorry, I must have misunderstood. I thought you said oppressed. 

There’s your definition of oppressed. Obviously, they’re using the wrong word. A mistake, I’m sure. I know I’m not oppressed. Because if I was, I couldn’t post this. I couldn’t read whatever I wanted and I couldn’t go outside and sing at the top of my lungs. I couldn’t have a career, or vote, or get married to who I choose. And if I choose wrong, or changed my mind, if I were oppressed, I couldn’t get divorced. I couldn’t wear shorts or show my toes or leave my hair unbound. Hell, I wouldn’t be able to go without a bra if I were oppressed. (Although, that is oppression…by an inanimate object. But I’m not a free loving hippie, either, so bra it is). 

You know I’m not a fan of children. I never had any, nor do I want any. But guess what? I never had to have an abortion to achieve my childless adult existence. I PLANNED for it. I dutifully took my birth control pill every day of my adult life. That’s after I marched my ass to the doctor, then I marched my ass to the pharmacy, so when I marched my ass out to the bar baring my cleavage and fat legs proudly, I didn’t have to march my pregnant ass to a “Planned” Parenthood baby killer two months later.

I’ll tell you something else while I’m on it. I know that women are consistently underpaid and overlooked for promotions in a workforce where men are in control, men who are often undeserving in their position. I know this because I was one of those women. I waited patiently for things to get better for me. I waited for change. I blamed the manager. I blamed the board. I blamed everybody but myself. And it was my own fault for staying when it was evident nothing would ever change. If you look, if you will open your damn eyes and really look, you will find someone who appreciates you and pays you what you’re worth. Often they’re standing right in front of your face. You just have to say yes.

So yeah, I’m gonna celebrate. And I’m gonna write about it. And you don’t have to like it. You don’t have to read it, either. That’s your right as an American. You know, the non-oppressed country.

So there’s my piece. I’m able to say it from the comfort of my home, thanks to a fearless line of leaders who have protected my homeland my entire existence in this world, and our great military, and the women suffragettes who really did make a difference.