Dear Diary,
I did NOT have the birthday of my dreams last weekend! Everyone knows that 79 is the tank birthday. One is paper, 77 is emoluments, 78 you get to destroy one constitutional amendment of your choosing, 80 you get to become the state, but 79 is tanks, and I was so looking forward to my tank birthday.
I thought it was pretty clear what I wanted. But obviously, it wasn’t!!! This was like the kind of tank parade your mom makes you lovingly from scratch, and I wanted the kind of tank parade that is made in China or North Korea. I don’t want a special American tank parade where our soldiers are waving and smiling out of the tanks. I want one like my friends have.
I wanted tanks, but I got OLD tanks. I wanted marching, but I got the wrong kind of marching, where they didn’t even do the little high-kick thing. I wanted millions of people to come out and cheer and hold up pictures of my face and they did, but they all went to the wrong places.
What does a president have to do to get the right kind of birthday tank parade? I have been dispatching troops to American cities and Stephen Miller is openly speculating about rolling back habeas corpus; it is not even subtle at this point what kind of government I’m going for!
My parade was just awful. It was all about the Army, which, okay, is turning 250, but only in the literal sense. First, a guy dressed as George Washington rode by on a horse. I don’t know why we make such a big fuss about this old toothless man who gave up power on purpose. We used to have a king, and now we don’t, and it’s all because of this loser! Also, he was obviously wearing a wig. They also retold part of the plot of the musical Hamilton, which felt like a personal affront.
Then Civil War soldiers marched by, but they were in the WRONG COLOR uniform, not the one worn by the folks who all our best forts are named for, but the blue one. This is the Army’s DEI at work again.
Throughout the parade, they kept trying to tell us fun facts about history. Do I look like someone who wants a history lesson? No! I am somebody who wants to repeat history, not somebody who wants to learn it.
It was sponsored by Palantir, which was SOMETHING, I guess.
I had been thinking more along the lines of: Someone comes out to sing the national anthem and then stops, winks, turns to me, and starts singing “Happy Birthday” in a breathy voice instead. Then the Army rolls up with an enormous cake. But wait, what’s that in the cake? Could it be? I cut into the cake with a big sword to reveal A BRAND-NEW TANK! (Whoever finds the tank in the cake gets to be king for life!) Everyone claps.
Whoa! What is that, parachuting out of the sky? It’s another tank, like in the Fast and the Furious series of films! And who’s that, lifting the lid of the tank? It’s the pope!
“Sorry,” he says. “It was all a joke about me being pope. Here, try on my pointy white hat! I know you love a pointy white hat! You will be a great pope. The best pope.” Then the tank releases special red-white-and-blue smoke to indicate that a new, better pope has been selected: red for MAGA, white for pope, and blue to indicate that the pope is a boy.
Then they sing “Memories,” from the musical CATS! William McKinley rides by on a tariff and gives me a thumbs-up!
Then the Army goes by, but bigger and more excited this time. They are finally doing the high-kick thing! Then my dad climbs out of the tank and says, “The hole in you that has never been filled is full now!” and whispers, “I have a special surprise for you, my best boy! Look out your window, Donald, and see!” I run to the window and it’s the ’80s again! Finally! Everywhere I look there are flags, and so many dollars, and a bald eagle, and an oil well spouting for joy. I am the president, and the pope, and the tank has made me king for life! It is the best birthday ever!
Needless to say, this is NOT what happened.
They’d better do better for my 80th.
