Source: William Campenni

Back in the late 1930s, one of the movies’ best box office attractions was the Andy Hardy series starring adolescent stars Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland.  For the Woke Generation for whom history seems to have begun around 2009 with an occasional flashback to 1619, America was a very much different place. 

The nation was in its tenth year of the Great Depression, without stimulus checks to ease the pain, and the reward for Americans’ perseverance and endurance would soon be exotic travel to faraway places with strange sounding names — Tarawa, Normandy, Anzio, and the island paradise of Iwo Jima.

In spite of their duress, these denizens of whistle-by country, the grandparents of today’s Deplorables, loved their country, cherished their flag, respected their government (mostly), and valued their neighbors, even if some of them rooted for the Yankees or voted Republican or put sugar on their grits.

In those trying times which today’s generation will never know, the movies were a temporary respite from harsh reality.  Andy Hardy (Mickey Rooney) was the All-American boy, and Judy Garland was the girl next door.  In their sequential struggles against a teenager’s travails, when every hope seemed lost, they would truck out an updated deus ex machina to reverse their fortunes.  Someone would holler out “Let’s put on a show!”  Whereupon in someone’s garage, or the school gym, or a barn, these teen-age thespians would do their song and dance routine, and all their world would be made well again.

Well, today’s Democrat party and its front man, the superannuated yet intellectually prepubescent Biden Administration, have created a modern revival of those musicals. No, not a minstrel show, which is banned as racism unless you are the governor of Virginia.  Now, whenever political fortunes start looking bleak and the world starts noticing their incompetence, Pelosi or Schumer or Nadler or Schiff will yell out “Let’s put on a show!” or in political lingo, “Let’s impeach Trump!”

The garage gets replaced by the more ornate Senate chamber, the dance routines devolve into a two-abreast funeral processional, and the script is deceptively edited extracts, but the plot is the same — Let’s impeach Trump!

The stage lights come up, the political makeup applied, the consultant and lawyer scripted dialogue evoked, and the pundits’ applauding critiques rolled out.  For some heretofore unheralded Democrat congresspeople, now managers, nowhere else could you get that happy feeling when you are stealing that extra bow.  But after it’s over, and the cameras go dark, in the words of the brilliant Shakespearean scholar, Andrea Mitchell, each becomes “…a poor player, that struts and frets his/her/hir hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more.

And then is heard no more?  Well, maybe not that part.  Like Groundhog Day’s Ned Ryerson, Joe and Nancy and Chuck, and maybe even Mitch, are ready to sell you the next casualty policy for their failing programs and legislation.  By next January, when things will have really gone downhill, with the valley still not in sight, they will open the curtain for the Third Annual Trump Impeachment Show.  You won’t want to miss it.  Every manmade or natural disaster will be foisted onto Donald Trump — earthquakes, serial killings, climate stagnation, dropped cell phones, cancellation of The View, Chinese attacks on Taiwan, COVID 20 — all Trump’s fault.  And all are impeachable offenses, as determined by legal scholars on CNN, MSNBC, and the Weather Channel.  They may even make Trump President for a day, just so they can really throw him out.

So, it may seem early, but now is the time to make your reservations for the next Trump impeachment show.  Don’t wait.  Seats are limited.  If you make your reservation now, your name will be placed in the drawing for the best seat in the house — I mean Senate — the lofty chair intended for the presiding Chief Justice of the United States, who will not be attending the show.  Unless the Braveheart guy with the horns shows up first.  And if you sign up for the automatic renewal, you will be guaranteed a seat for all future Trump impeachment shows.  There will be a small handling fee, however, so just make your checks out to the Hunter Biden Family Foundation.  They take U.S., Ukrainian, and Chinese currency.

Next January, and every one thereafter, when winter wearies your spirits and life and light seem at their darkest, let’s put on a show.  Strike up the music.  Raise the curtain.  Impeach Trump! 

Me?  I’ll be watching HGTV, hoping they pick house number 2 with the backyard pool and remodeled kitchen.  The outcome there is more in doubt.

William Campenni is a retired engineer and Air Force fighter pilot who writes about things that really bug him, of which there is no short supply.