You don’t have to live in a trailer to be trailer trash.
Actually, the term “trailer trash” is one Miss Fidditch deplores. But sometimes even the deplorable can be useful.
My take on it today, however, is not about people who live in trailers or about the usual kind of trash. My take is metaphorical and about the billionaires and multi-millionaires who behave, as my granny might have said, “as if they were born in a barn.”
The most recent headlines and “news” stories coming out of Washington, D.C. and from GOP campaigners chill the soul of anyone brought up to take the high road.
The swamp grows deeper and the smell worse by the hour. Much of today’s behavior among the so-called leaders or wanna-be leaders of our country would have been an embarrassment even to the National Enquirer not so many years ago, much less have been considered acceptable behavior for those charged with protecting the good of the nation.
Some days one wonders where and how it will end. Other days one wants to turn off the picture and the sound and walk some other direction. I’m choosing the “other days” more and more often, heading to the beach or playing in the garden.
Many of us have carried the foolish notion that people who have everything they want in the material sense could be more generous, kinder, satisfied. That they could leave the rest of us to make our way through life. We have been wrong.
Yes, there are a few of the privileged who live in houses along the high road and keep the faith, but more and more of them are showing up now in broken down old trailers down by the swamp – bickering, punching, kicking, telling lies, swaggering and generally acting like jackasses.
Or jennyasses spitting, brawling, enhancing and then baring one body part after another.
I’ll grant that the jacks and jennies are not alone in this thing. Our culture has become one that salivates over the latest crude, disgusting word or move.
The values of integrity, goodness and generally doing the right thing don’t depend on wealth or status. They depend, as they always have, on kind hearts and souls, not the size of a bank account.
Miss Fidditch is hard-pressed to see where it will all end. The stench and stain on our country will not go away anytime soon.