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Trump Was Always a Joke in New York
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Nov 4, 2019 14:09:58   #
moldyoldy
 
In the 1980s, when life in New York City was an endless struggle to die of natural causes, Donald Trump thought he was on top of the world. It took the presidency for him to learn that he’d always been a citywide joke. It’s unfortunate that no one told him so back then, not even the true legends of New York: In 1983, when I worked for ABC Sports, I was with Howard Cosell as he interviewed Trump. When we left Trump Tower, Cosell said, “I’ve never met anyone luckier to be born rich.” To this day, Trump recalls Cosell fondly. If he only knew.

Now President Trump has chosen to leave New York for Florida: The New York Times reported last week that Trump had filed a “declaration of domicile” in September stating that Palm Beach will be his permanent residence.
Actually, chosen is the wrong word. “Fleeing” before he’s excommunicated is more like it. But still, in the annals of New York history, it’s important to acknowledge that Trump’s change of address marks the end of a totally insignificant era.
Clearing up the chaos of traffic and protests on Fifth Avenue that his presidency has caused will be the only impact his move has on the city. It’s not like he’s been paying much in the way of taxes. And the t***h is, Trump, the lifelong New Yorker, was never a New Yorker. He was a tourist.

In his 70 years as a resident, his feet barely touched pavement. He probably still thinks the subway takes tokens. He probably never waited in line for a movie, got sick on street-fair Belgian waffles, or felt the thrill of beating everyone to a cab in the rain. He never had a vicious landlord or a predatory boss, and he sure as hell never had the ultimate New York experience of suffering in silence.

I grew up in Queens, just two miles and a few hundred income-tax brackets from Trump. As kids, both of us dreamed of living in Manhattan and being real New Yorkers. In the ’60s, one of us had parents who got us tickets for Leonard Bernstein’s Young People’s Concerts. In the ’70s, one of us took the Q17 bus and the F train to Madison Square Garden and paid off ushers to get into sold-out Knicks games. In the ’80s, one of us lived in a studio apartment, barely making rent while somehow going out to dinner every night, then h*****g out at dive bars.
Which brings up another consideration: With all its public t***sportation, New York was always the one city perfect for drunkenness. Yet the only vice Trump never had was drinking.
He lived in the greatest city in the world and missed out on everything. The same will be true for Florida.

Trump will hole up at Mar-a-Lago—what are the odds he can t***slate the words Mar-a-Lago into English? Ten to one against?—where he’ll be sequestered from almost all things Floridian. The Category 5 hurricanes and rising ocean floods on perfectly sunny days won’t touch him. He won’t sit by the pool chatting about his grandkids; he won’t reconnect with people he knew in high school 60 years ago; and he won’t rush to make the early bird at the best burger joint in town only to see an elderly diner hike down his pants and give himself an injection before the appetizers arrive.

His only true Floridian experience will be golf with a small ring of dev**ed right-wing entertainers/athletes/televangelists only too happy to look away as Secret Service agents dutifully kick the president’s ball on the green.

If he happens to venture out in public, he’ll realize that he’s almost as despised in southern Florida as in New York, because hordes of his neighbors will be ex–New Yorkers. Even worse, they’ll be old ex–New Yorkers well beyond the point of keeping their opinions to themselves. Their attitude upon seeing him will be: To err is human, to forgive … asinine.
Trump isn’t given to self-reflection, but while milling around the grounds of Mar-a-Lago in a Palm Beach sweat, he might just have a grand epiphany about summer in New York, all year in Florida, and the rest of his life: It’s not the heat; it’s the humiliation.

https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2019/11/donald-trump-was-never-real-new-yorker/601324/?utm_medium=offsite&utm_source=yahoo&utm_campaign=yahoo-non-hosted&yptr=yahoo

Reply
Nov 4, 2019 14:44:50   #
peg w
 
I remember going to Trump Tower in the 70's and thinking how trashy glitzy it looked. He was shooting off his mouth then, too

Reply
Nov 4, 2019 15:36:45   #
Parky60 Loc: People's Republic of Illinois
 
moldyoldy wrote:
In the 1980s, when life in New York City was an endless struggle to die of natural causes, Donald Trump thought he was on top of the world. It took the presidency for him to learn that he’d always been a citywide joke. It’s unfortunate that no one told him so back then, not even the true legends of New York: In 1983, when I worked for ABC Sports, I was with Howard Cosell as he interviewed Trump. When we left Trump Tower, Cosell said, “I’ve never met anyone luckier to be born rich.” To this day, Trump recalls Cosell fondly. If he only knew.

Now President Trump has chosen to leave New York for Florida: The New York Times reported last week that Trump had filed a “declaration of domicile” in September stating that Palm Beach will be his permanent residence.
Actually, chosen is the wrong word. “Fleeing” before he’s excommunicated is more like it. But still, in the annals of New York history, it’s important to acknowledge that Trump’s change of address marks the end of a totally insignificant era.
Clearing up the chaos of traffic and protests on Fifth Avenue that his presidency has caused will be the only impact his move has on the city. It’s not like he’s been paying much in the way of taxes. And the t***h is, Trump, the lifelong New Yorker, was never a New Yorker. He was a tourist.

In his 70 years as a resident, his feet barely touched pavement. He probably still thinks the subway takes tokens. He probably never waited in line for a movie, got sick on street-fair Belgian waffles, or felt the thrill of beating everyone to a cab in the rain. He never had a vicious landlord or a predatory boss, and he sure as hell never had the ultimate New York experience of suffering in silence.

I grew up in Queens, just two miles and a few hundred income-tax brackets from Trump. As kids, both of us dreamed of living in Manhattan and being real New Yorkers. In the ’60s, one of us had parents who got us tickets for Leonard Bernstein’s Young People’s Concerts. In the ’70s, one of us took the Q17 bus and the F train to Madison Square Garden and paid off ushers to get into sold-out Knicks games. In the ’80s, one of us lived in a studio apartment, barely making rent while somehow going out to dinner every night, then h*****g out at dive bars.
Which brings up another consideration: With all its public t***sportation, New York was always the one city perfect for drunkenness. Yet the only vice Trump never had was drinking.
He lived in the greatest city in the world and missed out on everything. The same will be true for Florida.

Trump will hole up at Mar-a-Lago—what are the odds he can t***slate the words Mar-a-Lago into English? Ten to one against?—where he’ll be sequestered from almost all things Floridian. The Category 5 hurricanes and rising ocean floods on perfectly sunny days won’t touch him. He won’t sit by the pool chatting about his grandkids; he won’t reconnect with people he knew in high school 60 years ago; and he won’t rush to make the early bird at the best burger joint in town only to see an elderly diner hike down his pants and give himself an injection before the appetizers arrive.

His only true Floridian experience will be golf with a small ring of dev**ed right-wing entertainers/athletes/televangelists only too happy to look away as Secret Service agents dutifully kick the president’s ball on the green.

If he happens to venture out in public, he’ll realize that he’s almost as despised in southern Florida as in New York, because hordes of his neighbors will be ex–New Yorkers. Even worse, they’ll be old ex–New Yorkers well beyond the point of keeping their opinions to themselves. Their attitude upon seeing him will be: To err is human, to forgive … asinine.
Trump isn’t given to self-reflection, but while milling around the grounds of Mar-a-Lago in a Palm Beach sweat, he might just have a grand epiphany about summer in New York, all year in Florida, and the rest of his life: It’s not the heat; it’s the humiliation.

https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2019/11/donald-trump-was-never-real-new-yorker/601324/?utm_medium=offsite&utm_source=yahoo&utm_campaign=yahoo-non-hosted&yptr=yahoo
In the 1980s, when life in New York City was an en... (show quote)

The Atlantic...great l*****t source.

Reply
 
 
Nov 4, 2019 16:11:04   #
moldyoldy
 
Parky60 wrote:
The Atlantic...great l*****t source.


Thanks, they are all l*****ts in your mind

Reply
Nov 4, 2019 16:28:23   #
Parky60 Loc: People's Republic of Illinois
 
moldyoldy wrote:
Thanks, they are all l*****ts in your mind

I know one thing...you're DEFINITELY a l*****t.

Reply
Nov 4, 2019 16:30:18   #
nwtk2007 Loc: Texas
 
moldyoldy wrote:
In the 1980s, when life in New York City was an endless struggle to die of natural causes, Donald Trump thought he was on top of the world. It took the presidency for him to learn that he’d always been a citywide joke. It’s unfortunate that no one told him so back then, not even the true legends of New York: In 1983, when I worked for ABC Sports, I was with Howard Cosell as he interviewed Trump. When we left Trump Tower, Cosell said, “I’ve never met anyone luckier to be born rich.” To this day, Trump recalls Cosell fondly. If he only knew.

Now President Trump has chosen to leave New York for Florida: The New York Times reported last week that Trump had filed a “declaration of domicile” in September stating that Palm Beach will be his permanent residence.
Actually, chosen is the wrong word. “Fleeing” before he’s excommunicated is more like it. But still, in the annals of New York history, it’s important to acknowledge that Trump’s change of address marks the end of a totally insignificant era.
Clearing up the chaos of traffic and protests on Fifth Avenue that his presidency has caused will be the only impact his move has on the city. It’s not like he’s been paying much in the way of taxes. And the t***h is, Trump, the lifelong New Yorker, was never a New Yorker. He was a tourist.

In his 70 years as a resident, his feet barely touched pavement. He probably still thinks the subway takes tokens. He probably never waited in line for a movie, got sick on street-fair Belgian waffles, or felt the thrill of beating everyone to a cab in the rain. He never had a vicious landlord or a predatory boss, and he sure as hell never had the ultimate New York experience of suffering in silence.

I grew up in Queens, just two miles and a few hundred income-tax brackets from Trump. As kids, both of us dreamed of living in Manhattan and being real New Yorkers. In the ’60s, one of us had parents who got us tickets for Leonard Bernstein’s Young People’s Concerts. In the ’70s, one of us took the Q17 bus and the F train to Madison Square Garden and paid off ushers to get into sold-out Knicks games. In the ’80s, one of us lived in a studio apartment, barely making rent while somehow going out to dinner every night, then h*****g out at dive bars.
Which brings up another consideration: With all its public t***sportation, New York was always the one city perfect for drunkenness. Yet the only vice Trump never had was drinking.
He lived in the greatest city in the world and missed out on everything. The same will be true for Florida.

Trump will hole up at Mar-a-Lago—what are the odds he can t***slate the words Mar-a-Lago into English? Ten to one against?—where he’ll be sequestered from almost all things Floridian. The Category 5 hurricanes and rising ocean floods on perfectly sunny days won’t touch him. He won’t sit by the pool chatting about his grandkids; he won’t reconnect with people he knew in high school 60 years ago; and he won’t rush to make the early bird at the best burger joint in town only to see an elderly diner hike down his pants and give himself an injection before the appetizers arrive.

His only true Floridian experience will be golf with a small ring of dev**ed right-wing entertainers/athletes/televangelists only too happy to look away as Secret Service agents dutifully kick the president’s ball on the green.

If he happens to venture out in public, he’ll realize that he’s almost as despised in southern Florida as in New York, because hordes of his neighbors will be ex–New Yorkers. Even worse, they’ll be old ex–New Yorkers well beyond the point of keeping their opinions to themselves. Their attitude upon seeing him will be: To err is human, to forgive … asinine.
Trump isn’t given to self-reflection, but while milling around the grounds of Mar-a-Lago in a Palm Beach sweat, he might just have a grand epiphany about summer in New York, all year in Florida, and the rest of his life: It’s not the heat; it’s the humiliation.

https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2019/11/donald-trump-was-never-real-new-yorker/601324/?utm_medium=offsite&utm_source=yahoo&utm_campaign=yahoo-non-hosted&yptr=yahoo
In the 1980s, when life in New York City was an en... (show quote)


And then he ran for president and WON!

Reply
Nov 4, 2019 18:21:50   #
moldyoldy
 
nwtk2007 wrote:
And then he ran for president and WON!


Lost by three million v**es.

Reply
 
 
Nov 4, 2019 18:29:21   #
Parky60 Loc: People's Republic of Illinois
 
moldyoldy wrote:
Lost by three million v**es.

All in California. And THAT'S why we have the e*******l college.

Reply
Nov 4, 2019 18:32:32   #
Blade_Runner Loc: DARK SIDE OF THE MOON
 
moldyoldy wrote:
Trump Was Always a Joke in New York


Under the Cuomos, Spitzer and Pataki, New York has become one of the biggest jokes in the country, second only to California.

Reply
Nov 4, 2019 18:32:52   #
moldyoldy
 
Parky60 wrote:
All in California. And THAT'S why we have the e*******l college.


disenfranchise millions in favor of empty states.

Reply
Nov 4, 2019 18:33:17   #
Blade_Runner Loc: DARK SIDE OF THE MOON
 
moldyoldy wrote:
Lost by three million v**es.
Then why isn't the winner in the WH?

Reply
 
 
Nov 4, 2019 18:35:19   #
moldyoldy
 
Blade_Runner wrote:
Then why isn't the winner in the WH?


he is a winner, just not in a good way.

Reply
Nov 4, 2019 18:35:59   #
woodguru
 
moldyoldy wrote:
In the 1980s, when life in New York City was an endless struggle to die of natural causes, Donald Trump thought he was on top of the world. It took the presidency for him to learn that he’d always been a citywide joke. It’s unfortunate that no one told him so back then, not even the true legends of New York: In 1983, when I worked for ABC Sports, I was with Howard Cosell as he interviewed Trump. When we left Trump Tower, Cosell said, “I’ve never met anyone luckier to be born rich.” To this day, Trump recalls Cosell fondly. If he only knew.

Now President Trump has chosen to leave New York for Florida: The New York Times reported last week that Trump had filed a “declaration of domicile” in September stating that Palm Beach will be his permanent residence.
Actually, chosen is the wrong word. “Fleeing” before he’s excommunicated is more like it. But still, in the annals of New York history, it’s important to acknowledge that Trump’s change of address marks the end of a totally insignificant era.
Clearing up the chaos of traffic and protests on Fifth Avenue that his presidency has caused will be the only impact his move has on the city. It’s not like he’s been paying much in the way of taxes. And the t***h is, Trump, the lifelong New Yorker, was never a New Yorker. He was a tourist.

In his 70 years as a resident, his feet barely touched pavement. He probably still thinks the subway takes tokens. He probably never waited in line for a movie, got sick on street-fair Belgian waffles, or felt the thrill of beating everyone to a cab in the rain. He never had a vicious landlord or a predatory boss, and he sure as hell never had the ultimate New York experience of suffering in silence.

I grew up in Queens, just two miles and a few hundred income-tax brackets from Trump. As kids, both of us dreamed of living in Manhattan and being real New Yorkers. In the ’60s, one of us had parents who got us tickets for Leonard Bernstein’s Young People’s Concerts. In the ’70s, one of us took the Q17 bus and the F train to Madison Square Garden and paid off ushers to get into sold-out Knicks games. In the ’80s, one of us lived in a studio apartment, barely making rent while somehow going out to dinner every night, then h*****g out at dive bars.
Which brings up another consideration: With all its public t***sportation, New York was always the one city perfect for drunkenness. Yet the only vice Trump never had was drinking.
He lived in the greatest city in the world and missed out on everything. The same will be true for Florida.

Trump will hole up at Mar-a-Lago—what are the odds he can t***slate the words Mar-a-Lago into English? Ten to one against?—where he’ll be sequestered from almost all things Floridian. The Category 5 hurricanes and rising ocean floods on perfectly sunny days won’t touch him. He won’t sit by the pool chatting about his grandkids; he won’t reconnect with people he knew in high school 60 years ago; and he won’t rush to make the early bird at the best burger joint in town only to see an elderly diner hike down his pants and give himself an injection before the appetizers arrive.

His only true Floridian experience will be golf with a small ring of dev**ed right-wing entertainers/athletes/televangelists only too happy to look away as Secret Service agents dutifully kick the president’s ball on the green.

If he happens to venture out in public, he’ll realize that he’s almost as despised in southern Florida as in New York, because hordes of his neighbors will be ex–New Yorkers. Even worse, they’ll be old ex–New Yorkers well beyond the point of keeping their opinions to themselves. Their attitude upon seeing him will be: To err is human, to forgive … asinine.
Trump isn’t given to self-reflection, but while milling around the grounds of Mar-a-Lago in a Palm Beach sweat, he might just have a grand epiphany about summer in New York, all year in Florida, and the rest of his life: It’s not the heat; it’s the humiliation.

https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2019/11/donald-trump-was-never-real-new-yorker/601324/?utm_medium=offsite&utm_source=yahoo&utm_campaign=yahoo-non-hosted&yptr=yahoo
In the 1980s, when life in New York City was an en... (show quote)

His rude awakening will be when he is no longer president and he starts realizing what a pariah he is. Already sales of trump condos are down, nobody wants to buy into or live in trump branded properties. Buildings have been successfully suing to remove the trump name.

Reply
Nov 4, 2019 18:38:43   #
Blade_Runner Loc: DARK SIDE OF THE MOON
 
moldyoldy wrote:
he is a winner, just not in a good way.
Not in a good way for whom?

Reply
Nov 4, 2019 18:39:14   #
moldyoldy
 
woodguru wrote:
His rude awakening will be when he is no longer president and he starts realizing what a pariah he is. Already sales of trump condos are down, nobody wants to buy into or live in trump branded properties. Buildings have been successfully suing to remove the trump name.


There should be at least a hundred indictments waiting for him too.

Reply
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