Confronting the Donald Trump in Me.

"We see in our nemesis the characteristics we most dislike in ourselves."

That's not an actual quote, but I'm sure I could find something similar in one of my daughter's Psych 101 textbook.

And as most of you know, or should know, there is no one in the world that I hate more than Donald J Shitgibbon. I can't even bring myself to say or write his name.

The sad truth is that I share more with this frothy codswallop than I care to admit.

His mother was from Scotland.
My mother was from Scotland.
We are both first generation American.

(I'm going to humbly suggest that my mother, on the right, fared better in the Scottish DNA lottery.)

He was raised in Queens, NY.
I was raised in Queens, NY.
Our apartment was literally within walking distance to his shitty little Tudor house.

And, perhaps most importantly, we're both cursed with an annoying predisposition towards brutal honesty.

Mine is fact based, his is alternative-fact based.

All of this commonality is intertwined. Again, if I were to go back and skim through one of my daughter's textbooks, much of it has to do with NYC itself. We are after all a product of our environment. And NYC has a certain effect on people.

Captain Fuckknuckle, for instance, goes through life unfiltered. He never takes in or processes new information, he simply opens his mouth and spews whatever is sent down from the amygdala.

I had the very same affliction. That is until I got married. I still slip up on occasion, but I have a filter. And she reads this blog. And she stops me from saying or writing stupid things.

For the most part.

The other thing NYC does, is it beats you up. It turns everything into a fight. Getting a cab. Getting a raise. Getting an apartment. It breeds a gladiator mentality. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with being a warrior. I am saying that it can be taken to harmful and detrimental extremes.

"That bucket of KFC chicken doesn't stand a chance. Believe me."

Thankfully, our paths diverged. Mostly because he was born with silver mining company in his mouth. When I graduated college I had $106 to my name. I used that money to buy a one way ticket to Los Angeles. Where I acquired and nurtured attributes NYC never bestowed upon that fat sack of diseased camel haggis.

Like empathy.

Discipline.

And modesty.

OK, I'm still working on the modesty.


UPDATE: Just realized we share something else in common — heel spurs. Mine acquired from running, including many marathons and 10k races. His, from those two years he spent as Captain of his bowling league team.