Looking at loss through President Trump’s eyes

You lose your happy family.

Your son-in-law’s lawyers turn in your son. Both their lawyers are counseling them not to talk to you about their problems. They can’t be sure you won’t tweet out something that can destroy you all. They will both be ensnared in congressional testimony and legal problems for years. Your entire family will be consumed by this.

You lose your peace of mind.

You left a world of your own creation, surrounded by people who at least pretended to revere you. You basked in the illusion that you were a beloved celebrity. You have now unleashed a tsunami of scorn and ridicule upon yourself.

You are in a job that you do not grasp. Like the dog that caught the car it was chasing, you never expected the difficulties you now encounter. You thought it would be a matter of signing things with a big black Sharpie.

You lose the value of your brand.

They’re taking down your name from those skyscrapers. They’re ditching your products in stores as if they were smallpox-infested blankets. The “made in” labels on your wares belie your “buy American” sloganeering.

You lose your exclusive fringe benefits.

No longer can you barge into dressing rooms filled with naked young women and get away with it. You can’t even suck on a Tic Tac without a cloud of suspicion.

You lose any peace of mind to which your wife aspired.

She thought she had found her dream in you, protected by your billions. Instead, you exposed her to global humiliation for plagiarism, cruel innuendo and ceaseless memes.

You lose your spot on Mount Rushmore.

History has never mattered much to you, but your grandchildren will read it — in a world you have diminished, from the environment they live in to the standing of your country among nations. Above all, they will read over and over again that Grandpa was a liar.

Eventually, you will lose your base.

When the wall becomes a fence. When Mexico will not pay for it. When the coal jobs do not come back, when the factories do not rehire, when the realities of “your” health care plan hurt the people who trusted you. When they see that when you promised to make America great again, you were talking to your rich peers— not to them. When people finally get exhausted by the loud guy at the end of the bar. When a shinier object appears.

And oh, yeah: You lost the popular vote.

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Alan D. Maislen is a resident of West Hartford, Connecticut.

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