Several years ago, I got shot at with a pellet gun while traveling down the highway during rush hour in St. Louis. The air conditioner on my Blazer was broken so I had the window down and my elbow on the sill when I heard a loud “Smak!” against the doorframe just a couple of inches behind my head. I thought I’d been hit by a rock kicked up by a car in the left lane and just kept going. Later, when I got home, I looked at that doorframe and found a perfectly round pellet-sized crater about 1/8 of an inch deep in the steel. Paint was chipped out, of course, making a stark silver contrast against the navy blue finish of the truck. I drove a short way to a police station and asked the cop at the desk what he made of it.
“Looks like somebody took a shot at you with a pellet gun,” he remarked. Didn’t seem too surprised. It is St. Louis, after all. Later that evening, I contemplated what it would have been like if the thing had actually hit me. I suppose it would have buried itself somewhere in my skull, and I suppose it would have hurt quite a bit. It began to rattle me. Lots of "what ifs."
What if it had hit me in the temple and gone into my brain?
What if it had been an actual bullet?
What if I had lost control and rolled the truck?
What if my kids had been with me?
What if, what if, what if….
I had the luxury of afterthought because when it happened, I never remotely considered I had been “shot” at with anything. The notion was so far from my reality that it just wasn’t a thing. If, for some reason, it had been a thing, and I'd realized it was some sort of a shot, I probably would have panicked and flipped out. I know that if I had crashed the car, the last thing I would have said to the EMTs is “Let me get my shoes.”
WON'T BACK DOWN: Injured Trump Pumps Fist As Blood Streams Down Face
Let Me Get My Shoes….
It seems like a ridiculous comment to make in a time of emergency, but that is what he said. “Let me get my shoes.”
As a public figure, and one who is so thoroughly despised by a large portion of the country, President Trump realized immediately what had occurred and reacted smartly. In the middle of a gaggle of Secret Service agents trying to get him to do things their way, Trump was almost nonchalant about his attempted murder and asked for his damn shoes. I’m sure this frustrated the agents to no end at the time, but for him, I think it was about getting off stage under his own power and his own terms. Forget for a moment about the raised fist and the cries of "Fight! Fight! Fight!" — this guy wanted his shoes. On a level most of us would never have the presence of mind to consider, Trump wanted his shoes back. And I think he wanted his shoes back because he wanted his poise back.
So, who wants to maintain their poise? All of us. Who demands their poise in the moment of crisis? Leaders. Leaders maintain their poise in troubled times because they understand something. There are no leaders if there are no followers. And to draw followers you have to give them reasons to follow. If someone tries to take your life with a rifle, and you show defiance, confidence, and poise in the aftermath, you demonstrate surety, and you demonstrate strength. You pass those qualities along to your supporters whether it's your intention or not.
Nobody is going to follow you if you come off as weak. Look at the Democrats jumping off of Biden’s tramp steamer every day. It’s like watching “Titanic,” where you see 1500 people die one at a time. (Biden will probably be that last guy who hops off the fantail and hits the propeller.)
Anyway, can you imagine what the Russians, the Chinese, the North Koreans, and the Iranians make of this?
How about, “Holy sh*t. He’s for real!”
Can you imagine what fancypants Trudeau or the NATO leaders are thinking right now? “Holy sh*t. He’s for real!”
Or the diminutive Zelensky, always with his arm out and palm up? “Holy sh*t. This guy might not give me any more money!”
Well, regardless of what opinion you may have about Donald Trump, you can be confident that what you see is genuine, authentic, or any of the other words new-age liberals like to use about expressing their true subjectivity. He says what he thinks when he thinks it, and while this is not always good, at least you know what you’re buying. Vote for him or don’t, but there are no surprises.
A final thought: People have often referred to Trump as a bully. But I’m not certain about that because most bullies melt when you punch them back in the nose. We didn’t see that Saturday. We saw a guy who got shot and bloodied and, right afterward, demanded his shoes.
Dan Zoernig is a commercial photographer, retoucher, and illustrator in St. Louis, Missouri. Earning a degree in History/Political Science from Rockhurst University, he has been commenting on social and policy matters since the early 2000s.
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