Dump Trump the Chump

I wrote two fan letters to businessmen during the Decade of Greed.

I was inspired in 1985 after reading Iacocca: An Autobiography about the larger-than-life auto executive who helped design the Ford Mustang – one of my favorite cars – and rose to the top of the Ford Motor Company before Henry Ford II used Donald Trump’s favorite catchphrase, “You’re fired!,” on him in 1978. (He moved to Chrysler and helped turn that company’s fortunes around, retiring as its president and CEO in 1992.)

Iacocca sent a courteous reply in which he told me that “working together, we can move mountains.” I actually put the letter in a frame and displayed it in my state government cubicle for a while.

I was also impressed in 1988 after reading Trump: The Art of the Deal – used copies of which you can now buy off the web for one penny – and wrote a letter complimenting the real estate tycoon on his smarts and good fortune.

He never responded.

I forgot about this egregious slight and moved on with my life. Next thing I know the guy’s worth three billion, according to Forbes. He’s the star of an NBC reality show called “Apprentice” where he fires people every week. He owns the Miss Universe, Miss USA, and Miss Teen USA pageants, is a World Wrestling Federation fan, and owns the Mar-A-Lago estate in Palm Beach where Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley honeymooned but probably didn’t consummate their marriage. He also owns a 200-acre compound near Bedford, New York, and a 30,000-square-foot apartment on the top of Trump Tower in Manhattan that’s detailed in bronze, gold and marble and is worth $50 million.

His marriage to first wife Ivana was detrimentally affected by his extramarital affair with Marla Maples, who became his second wife. He’s now on Wife #3, Melania, who’s almost a quarter-century younger than “The Donald.”

I didn’t know until recently that Trump isn’t exactly a self-made man; he inherited money from his millionaire daddy Fred. And if the 1991 business bankruptcy on his record is any indication, he’s not the most impressive Mover and Shaker in the history of the universe either.

Still, I was willing to forgive Trump for dissing me back in 1988 because in 2007 he publicly criticized Dubya and expressed opposition to the Iraq war. But then he went and endorsed the doddering Maverick from Phoenix for president in 2008, and now he’s embraced the role of Birther in Chief, telling anyone who will listen that the current occupant of the Oval Office is possibly, maybe, perhaps not the rightful occupant at all and could in fact be ineligible to be President of the United States...but don’t fear, because Trump himself might want the job. (Alarmingly, he’s polling second among potential GOP presidential hopefuls. There clearly is no god.)

Okay, so the guy has a little more coin than I do. And he owns hotels, casinos, golf courses and prime Manhattan real estate. And he enjoys international fame and flies around in private jets that have his name on ‘em. But none of that qualifies him to be president. Neither does being an arrogant, egotistical bastard who panders to the mouth-breathers among us.

And I have better hair.