Soon it could be over. In a very short period of time, the fate of the presidency will be known. There’s no way to describe the past four years as anything other than extraordinary unless, of course, you prefer ‘cataclysmic bin-fire’. But if it turns out the world’s largest-known Oopma Loopa is suddenly out of a job this November, the question arises – what will he do next? Or, more accurately, what won’t he do?
There’ll be a book, obviously. Having already published ‘The Art of the Deal’ – which he not only wrote but had translated from the original Russian, it’s inevitable he’ll write the story of the Presidency from his perspective, given that everyone who so much as delivered the milk to him has already done so. But what would a (former) President Trump call his memoir? Something punchy like ‘Donald J Trump: Witch Hunter’ or ‘Fake News v. Fake Tan’. Or, in recognition of his antipathy towards the ‘Black Lives Matters’ movement, maybe ‘Orange Is Not The New Black’.
It’d possibly be the first political memoir ever to be written ALL IN CAPS. Or to have chapters only two hundred and eighty characters long. Or to feature an endorsement on the cover not from the author himself. Presumably it will be something along the lines of ‘A lot of people are saying this is the greatest political memoir of all time.’ Doubtless, Kim Jong-Un will prepare the Foreword. Whether it’ll be successful or not is another matter. Sales figures, much like inauguration attendance figures, are likely to exaggerated if not wholly invented.
Most former Presidents build a library as a monument to their legacy. Rather than a Presidential Library, I can see Donald Trump building a mud-wrestling arena. Or, if he does go with convention (although I have to ask, ‘why start now?’) then it could well be the first Presidential Library to filled solely with comic books. Or to offer a free taco upon entry. That’s probably a bit unfair – chances are that the Trump Presidential Library would be filled with books, albeit solely with remaindered copies of ‘The Art of the Deal’ and ‘Orange Is Not the New Black’.
A career in stand-up comedy beckons. He’d be the kind of comic who avoids punch lines and is more ‘observational’ in nature. Personally, if he were not in a position to cause World War III, I’d find him hilarious. You can’t me tell that when you pull down on his comically-long red tie that water doesn’t come squirting out one of the buttons. Or, notwithstanding that he once paid someone else to sit his high school exams, perhaps he could pursue a career as an educator, specializing in teaching Latin, given that he so clearly understands the meaning of ‘qui pro quo’.
He could voice your car’s navigation system. However, you’d end up only ever turning right, before turning right again and again. But honesty matters with on-board navigation. It’s no comfort if you back into street sign only to be told that ‘a lot of people saying that this was the greatest example of reverse parking probably since Lincoln’ even as the airbag deploys. Even when hopelessly lost, the Trump navigation system would refuse to concede.
Perhaps it’s not possible to contemplate a post-Trump presidency without thinking about his BFF (or, at least, his BFF whenever Vladimir Putin is out of town and now that Geoffrey Epstein is permanently unavailable): Rudy Giuliani. I can see them pairing up as either private detectives or a country and western duo. Ideally both. They’d sing sweet, sweet harmonies together at a performance at a redneck bar (although it may not have been a redneck bar prior to their arrival) before getting a message that some mystery needed solving and the pair of them would throw their banjos in the boot of Rudy’s Ford Festiva before launching an investigation.
Starsky and Hutch, Laverne and Shirley, Laurel and Hardy – Rudy and the Donald would join that elite group of crime fighters. Scouring the countryside for incriminating laptops from hell, preferably obtaining them from someone with an enormously convenient case of face-blindness, the pair would turn in stories to the New York Post, delivered in hand-written pages shoved through the night slot. Wherever there’s injustice, you’ll find Rudy and the Donald; if not perpetrating the injustice themselves, then describing those that do as ‘very good people’.
He could go back to TV but I’m sure he’d be loathe to repeat himself and simply return to ‘The Apprentice’. I see advertorials in his future. There’s nothing that guy can’t sell. He’d promote ‘Regeneron’, the experimental drug he took whilst suffering corona virus as well as the steroid that made feel fit enough to compete in the Olympics notwithstanding that it would have seen him disqualified.
Of course, there’s the possibility that he doesn’t lose and there will be another four years of tweets and mayhem. Nixon was in power when I was born. Perhaps it’s just as well that Twitter didn’t exist then; no one wants to read ‘I AM NOT A CROOK’ followed by a smiley face emoji. It’s been a tough year. I just want something good to happen and for life to finally get back to something that approaches normal. Here’s hoping.