Last night’s final Republican debate on Fox News was certainly…different. Something was missing. Can’t quite name who or what it was. But it was like this big hole where an aching tooth had once been. Or the marvelous way your head feels after a headache vanishes that almost makes you feel light-headed.
Unfortunately for Ted Cruz, that lightheadedness led him down the trail of mistimed jokes, pointless arguing with the moderators and whining when they told him had to wait until they got to him and that bouncy giddiness you feel when the class bully is sent to the principal’s office or your pesky big brother, who’s been pointing his finger at you all through dinner, is sent to his room.
There were no barking seals in this debate, if you know what I mean. Ted Cruz didn’t have to reminding the moderators and the audience how much more at ease the room felt without its presence. The “seal” might as well have been there, for all he kept resurrecting his memory.
Last night was just a rough night for Cruz, giving the debate victory to third-runner Marco Rubio, Rand Paul, and Chris Christie, in that order. Rubio was definitely on point, even though he is on board for legislation that will eliminate any Constitutional protections for college men accused of on-campus rape. So much for the presumption of innocence. No wonder Megyn Kelly.
I really must digress here and wander off onto a trivial pursuit. Megyn Kelly’s false eyelashes (and Martha MacCallum’s as well). What were Fox’s make-up artists thinking? Are they gay guys who hate women? My dolls had more natural-looking eyelashes than Megyn Kelly did. What did they use for the material on those things – hardened road tar? It’s amazing either woman could lift her eyelids. With enough lift, they could’ve taken off and flown around the room.
Holy mascara! Did she get bruises from batting her eyelashes?
Okay. So back to the substance – of the debate that is, not the false eyelashes.
But still speaking of Megyn Kelly. Fox News had a stand-by podium in case the missing elephant decided to occupy the room. Mercifully, he did not. The elephant gave numerous, vacillating reasons why he did not appear. Finally, to give himself an out, he sponsored a fundraiser for veterans across town.
No offense to our veterans, but – whoopee. He could have held that fund-raiser anytime. Whether it was the showman in him, the drama queen, or the narcissist, he didn’t show and no one but his own followers missed him.
My guy friend didn’t watch the debates, although I did, at least for awhile. Neither did he watch the Trump Circus. He watched “Blue Bloods”, instead. He said he didn’t watch because of Trump, but because he hated Megyn Kelly. I assured him that she was her same self-conscious, smirking self. He believes that the reason for the falsies was her own inflated image of herself as a Hollywood runway starlet, not a serious journalist. At first, he told me he didn’t watch at all, but then flip-flopped himself and admitted he watched the very beginning to see who would be on the stage. When he got a gander at her floor mat eyelashes, he changed the channel.
A recent look at Google shows Trump at 58 percent, with Cruz trailing at 20 percent, and the rest of the card left in the dust in the single digits (if that). Fox News had 12.5 million viewers, so clearly, someone was watching.
Trump has many young voters, as I stated in another post. He also has what I call “The Real Man” vote. Trump makes no apologies about his view of the other sex. He’s a Man’s Man. He has a Man’s tastes, interests, and viewpoint. In the 1947 film, “The Ghost and Mrs. Muir,” a growly, rumbly Captain Gregg, played by growly, rumbly Rex Harrison, blasts Mrs. Muir (actress Gene Tierney):
“Confound it, madam, my language is most controlled. And as for me morals, I lived a man’s life and I’m not ashamed of it; and, I can assure you no woman’s ever been the worse for knowing me – and I’d like to know how many mealy-mouthed blue-noses can say the same.”
Millennials don’t want to vote for a Conservative, which Trump isn’t. Men don’t want to vote for wimpy men. Men have suffered the most by political correctness. So along comes the most confoundedly incorrect man’s man since Captain Gregg and blast everyone, they’re going to vote for him no matter what he says; even if he boasts, “I could shoot someone on 5th Avenue and my supporters would still vote for me!” Many of these guys would slyly comment that they’d be happy to loan him the gun, especially if it was – well, never mind that.
That’s how fed up they are. They’re necessarily college graduates, but they’re educated in the ways of the world and common sense. If Trump is no great speaker (Obama certainly isn’t), all the better. Confound it, they’re tired of this spit and polish and moussed hair. They’re tired of perfumed dandies who fluff up their hair and have to go to a gym to build up their muscles because they wouldn’t know one end of a shovel, axe or hammer from another!
The Millennials who sport a week’s worth of stubble and leave their shirt-tails hanging out – well they don’t know what it means to be men; they know what it is to be slobs. Land-lubbing, latte-sipping posers!
In their eyes, Trump knows how to treat a lady and he knows how to treat what they think of as, well, to put it delicately, a witch with a “b.” They know the difference. The former have almost disappeared and they’ve had their fill of the latter. Q: Why don’t you hold a door open for a lady? A: When one comes along, I will. But I could be waiting here a long time. These are guys who were raised to treat a woman like a lady, whether she behaved like one or not.
But since Feminism “blossomed” in the Seventies, women have told men to stop holding doors for them because they’re not “helpless females” and the men are happy to oblige them, even let the door shut in their faces.
That, in short, is what’s driving Trump’s Guy Vote. If Google’s 58 percent is correct (and I find it hard to believe the numbers and suspect it’s all too easy to cheat and manipulate the numbers by voting multiple times from multiple devices), Trump will sail away with the election.
For those of us who watched and aren’t fans of Trump, his absence was not missed; it was a relief. Still, this was, what, the sixth debate? Watching was like watching a rerun. Most of the issues had already been hashed, rehashed, mashed, and reheated. After an hour, I, too, turned the channel.
If I had to watch a rerun, I preferred Voldemort to Megyn Kelly’s eyelashes. Voldemort is much less disturbing.