A great man is so tattered, torn, and forlorn that he cannot decide what to do. I instantly emphatized when I saw him walk on that stage. Who is that? I did not know him well, but I sure as hell remember the brilliant State of the Union Address. Proudly, I called him my President.
I immediately turned off the TV and left the room. A hallucination was going on, and I did not go back in there all night.
My first thought was, who was the last to see him. Who? His wife? What did they talk about?
Then there are all the high-priced handlers. They must be malignant narcissists thinking only about how to move their careers. Hint. Forget it. They no longer have careers.
Somebody let this happen. Where was the Secret Service agent to take the bullet? That system really worked, didn't it?
Pull the fire alarm, somebody. Anybody.
The moral is simple: he was a fish out of the water and we owe him a toss back into tohe water.
P.S.
I've been a public speaker all my life. He was scared to death.
I had the same sinking feeling Bill but like an accident had to watch till the end. I thought surely that the announcement would come the next morning that President Biden would be stepping down but crickets. There must be a succession plan and it must have been put together sooner than that night. It better happen soon so we can still hold the lline.
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