Anchor Struck

Now that the long-simmering Covid-19 is officially a pandemic, gears are shifting.  Trump’s disapproval/approval ratings, which had been remarkably durable at 54-42, are at 50-46 today at website 538’s weighted average.  However, they are already leveling off as the augmented glare from the crisis are highlighting Trump’s abysmal response.

W. Bush’s approval was just above water at 52% until 9/11.  His approval ballooned 30 points in four days.  It peaked at 88 a few days later, then dropped steadily as he bungled his response.  JFK was at 58% approval at his death.  LBJ stepped in at 78% approval and was at a steady 74 until he escalated the Vietnam War based on false information.  He left office at 46% approval.

Trump is running out of ways to spin his total unpreparedness for the epidemic.  It’s fair for him to criticize Obama for letting national medical stockpiles run down, but that calls attention to the fact that he’s had 3+ years to restock.  The Obama transition team warned Trump of the chance of a pandemic, and he still says “nobody could have seen it coming”.

I believe Donnie will really drop in the polls when red states slow to shelter see their infection rates skyrocket.  God can protect you just so  much.  He (Trump, not Him) may be realizing just how dire it is.  In his last few updates, he seems sobered by reality.  Even his patented attacks on reporters seem half-hearted.  Unable to convene the rallies that are his life’s blood, he appears drained.  If we could scrape off his orange concealer, we might find him ashen grey.

But that’s not why I called you here.  I’d like to share a really good joke that hopefully you will share with your circle:

A middle-aged couple go to a therapist.

“Our marriage is solid,” the wife says, “but we’ve lost our spark in the bedroom.”

The therapist says, “Take it out of the bedroom.  Sex can happen spontaneously anywhere in the house.  You might be surprised.”

A week later, the couple returns.

“Doc, you were right!” exuded the husband.  “The other night at dinner we both reached for the salt at the same time.  Our hands brushed and sparks flew anew.  We swept everything off the table and went after it like rabid raccoons!”

“Tell me more,” said the therapist.

The wife responded, “We’ve been banned from Burger King.”