Trump 2020 at the Beach

For your consideration: there exists a remote stretch of beach on the Secret Oregon Coast where a shack sits upon a cliff. Several Japanese glass fishing floats dangle from the eaves of the cabin.

An old man with two angry dogs visits the shack a couple times of year. He sometimes sits outside and looks at the ocean. The shack is old, dilapidated, and badly in need of paint and roof repair. One gets the idea that this man, or his father, built the shack, but somewhere along the way, the always great notion of consistent maintenance drifted away. The cabin now was clearly going to seed.

Not too long ago, on a bright morning, a regular beachcomber walked past the shack and noticed something new about it. He was jolted by what he saw: TRUMP 2020 painted in red on the front of the blue shack. The shack was falling apart but here was a bold and freshly painted political advertisement in the middle of nowhere that virtually no one would ever see. Was the old man trying to convince the ocean to vote for Trump, or the whales and gulls and otters? It was an astonishing and unlikely sight for the beachcomber to encounter and it braced him. It made him think hard about the man’s act and commitment to the President’s reelection. Perhaps the ad was merely for him to read as a daily affirmation, but of course he was only there a couple times a year. Was it wholly incongruous to place a political ad in the midst of such sweeping natural beauty? Where did the fervor to paint the ad originate? Did painting the ad make him happy? Are Biden supporters doing something similar with their ramshackle beachfront properties? The beachcomber’s political beliefs did not align with the old man’s. (The beachcomber was practically a communist.) Still, he sort of admired the effort. The old man had at least got off his ass for a few minutes to declare a political belief. If more Americans did that (and voted), this would be a far better nation.

A final question entered the beachcomber’s mind: once the election was over, would the old man paint over the ad? Or it would it remain and fade and weather and decompose in concert with the cabin’s inevitable demise? Was it all one really big fat metaphor?