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I’m A Trump Guy, So What? by Clancy Sigal

Note: the man below is imaginary.  Or is he?  
                                   I’M A TRUMP GUY, SO WHAT?
I’m a Trump voter and live in Muskegon, Michigan with my wife and family. I’m white and voted Obama in 2012. 
I lost my assembly line job when the factory moved to Monterey, Mexico and now keep it together shelving part time 
at my local Krogers, my wife works as a security guard at Best Buy.
I signed me and my family up with Obama Care which my Congressman says is a bad deal but 
hasn’t yet come up with a replacement that will take care of my youngest kid born 
with a “pre existing condition” (a heart problem).
I voted for Trump because Hillary doesn’t know how to speak to or for deplorables like me, and I figured if she can’t take the trouble to come to my part of Michigan I might as well roll the dice.
Am I sorry? Not yet. The media, those bums, is jumping all over Trump which makes me think he’s not such 
a bad guy. “I was elected to serve the forgotten men and women in our country,” is what he said and still speaks 
to me. He kicks ass out of NAFTA which may bring back my job. So he delivers.
We don’t have a big immigrant problem in this part of the state, but if he ever gets that wall built 
I wouldn’t mind working on it, his construction guys take home real money.
What crisis in Washington? Smoke and no fire as usual. Those slaphappy TV and newspaper guys 
are just as elite as the crooks we threw out, you know how much those anchors make?
I’m not an idiot, I watch Fox News and used to like Megyn a lot, before she showed too much leg to the boss (RIP Roger)
or he got sexy Azheimers, whichever, but I screen out strictly Republican bullshit which is why I never 
watch CNN or MSNBC and Rachel which does the same for Democrats.
Nobody speaks for me and my family. Bottom line.
Except when Trump comes through forgotten places like mine with one of his rah rah rallies 
something in me says, Right on, Don, go for it, those people in the media and in Washington 
hate my guts and you at least know I’m here.
Russia? Come on. Who cares?