Today is a sad day. Donald Trump is taking over the office of President tomorrow, and Barack Obama will no longer be my President. I’m proud to have voted for Obama twice; I’m prouder to be able to say that I strongly disagreed with him on many occasions, but I never lost ultimate faith in his decency and good intentions.
Not so with Trump. I never respected him, not from the first days of his notoriety in New York City. Those days when he played Bad Boy with the amused tabloid press. Those days when he announced plans that took crass advantage of New York’s housing laws. Those days when he sued the City of New York for millions in tax abatements for his millionaire condos — because the laws were written hastily in the depths of the ’75 recession. To his credit, Trump had faith in the city. He did. He had faith that its lawmakers would be so grateful to have their pictures taken with a rich guy in a gilded chair that it could bring him untold riches. He was right. It was the last time he’d be right.
I do not want to ever say the words “President T—p”. Ever. He will never be my President.