One day perhaps someone will write a musical of the short-lived Trump presidency and I will go to the theatre and laugh along with everyone else.
In the mean time, things have been very strange. The weekend before last, America’s reigning xenophobic populist signed the executive order banning Syrian refugees and people from seven, predominantly Muslim, countries. I was horrified and shocked and angry and bewildered. I wished I could do something to help, but all I could think of at the time was to write a couple of blog posts about it.
The more I read the stories about the people who were stranded at airports, and about others who were sent back to their countries of origin, the more depressed and distressed I became. I felt powerless against this injustice. I also feared that Trump’s America was going to go downhill, fast.
At the same time as all this was going on, my life was going on more-or-less as usual. On Saturday, I had agreed to go with my sister and brother-in-law to see the movie La La Land. I needed to get out of the house, and I needed to try to lift my spirits, but it seemed somehow wrong to be enjoying a movie while people were suffering and thousands were protesting. It seemed particularly bizarre that the movie was La La Land—a romantic musical with 50’s-style fantasy dance sequences. It could not have been further from anyone’s reality.
So, I came home and wrote the second of my two blog posts about the Muslim ban, and I read more depressing news stories. I retweeted and reposted various things until I feared I had become annoying to my friends. Then, on the Sunday, I went to the theatre to see Kinky Boots; another light-hearted musical with colourful costumes and charming characters. On stage and screen, solving complex social problems seems so simple, and any conflicts that develop are quickly resolved. Often, the combatants end up as pals and everyone goes home happy.
In my imaginary Executive Orders musical, I’m picturing a dramatic court scene in which Trump and his cronies are all being charged with illegal activities. They will all be wearing bright orange jumpsuits and doing all sorts of contortions and backflips as they try to talk their way out of jail.
There will be a lively song in response to all their excuses that will have the prosecution lawyers singing “Nope. Irrelevant. Nope. Still irrelevant” over and over again. Finally, when the verdict of “Guilty” comes in, the lawyers and the crowd will all dance together, singing “We the people, we the people, are throwing your law-breaking racist ass in jail” and so on.
I know one or two people who are good at writing songs. Maybe I’ll see if I can talk them into making this fantasy musical of mine into an real, live, funny, show.
The show could be called “Kinky Jackboots,” as an alternative title.