We were out to dinner—good food, good company. One told the story of a proud possession: an expensive large-format picture book.
“It was $93, but it was so beautiful that I bought it.”
The fancy-book owner had guests, and it was getting late. One guest was leafing through the pictures in the $93 book. The proud owner said, “Take it with you, leaf through it in bed, it’s a beautiful book.”
The next morning, the guest was gone, and so was the book. She was angry and disappointed with her guest. She was miffed that, when she replaced it, it was now a $186 book. She locked the replacement away, no longer willing to share, no longer displaying it on the coffee table where another could pilfer it.
Around the dinner table, there were nods of understanding and tsks of sympathy. I said, “Maybe your guest misunderstood and thought you were giving her the book.”
I had a husband who called me the “dumbest smart girl he ever knew.” He meant I was book smart but naïve. We are going to be wrong sometimes. Which way do we want to be wrong? Do we want to think that guest is nice, honest, and soon will send a thank-you note? Or do you want to suspect the world and everyone in it? Which is the greater error?
A neighbor who supports Trump emailed. He was gleeful. There was an attachment. He invited me to listen to it. He said, “If you voted for Trump, you will be happy. Even if you didn’t vote for Trump, you will be pleased that at last he is draining the swamp.”
I thought about it and decided that either every human being deserves a dignified response—or they don’t. I remembered the quote “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.” So, I answered with kindness.
I told my neighbor that the sentiment he expressed, quite literally, hurt me. I explained why: Trump and his colleagues are firing people who need their jobs, rounding up and deporting people who fought to get here and want to stay. In short, Trump is hurting others, and I can’t stand the meanness. This life is hard enough without folks purposefully being mean to and making trouble for others. His email was therefore unwelcome and I would be grateful if he did not send them to me.
This generally scowling fellow with a sharp tongue was very kind in return. He said he would honor my wish and added a kindly salutation. I guess I would rather be a sap than a cynic. On the other hand…
The United State Agency for International Development (USAID) feeds people. It helps people around the world after natural disasters. It educates. You know, “Give a man a fish and feed him for a day; teach hm to fish and feed him for a lifetime.”
That is what USAID does. Are there really 76 million Americans who are opposed to doing that? Seventy-six million who want to stop doing that? I do not believe that, and it saddens me that we voted for folks who do, folks who wish to hobble the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), discontinue the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA), and throw paper towels at people who suffered a disastrous hurricane. Was the message “Here you go; mop it up”?
Somebody else is going to have to worry about the policy; I want to stop the meanness.
You want to find waste and graft and greed? The coordinates of Mar-A-Lago are 26.6771 degrees North, 80.0370 degrees West.
I was at tea with Marjorie Merriweather Post, the builder and original owner of Mar-A-Lago. It was just the two of us at her house in Washington, D.C. There was one moment that formed an indelible picture. She put her elbow on the back of the couch and lifted her arm, hand toward the ceiling, wristwatch exposed (see below).

A servant came quietly from the doorway where he had been standing. He set the watch and wound the stem. Post turned, smiled, and nodded. The conversation continued.
It was the perfect reenactment of the 19th-century economic class structure. The lady of the house, unable to cope with a detail, unwilling to ask anything of a servant, indicating a necessity and nodding appreciation for his superior ability.
As if that superiority should not be lost on me, she said, “I cannot see well enough to set my watch properly.”
Think what you will about the Gilded Age élite, but Post would not have allowed Trump to cross the threshold if she were in residence at Mar-A-Lago. Not because he was from Queens, had immigrant parents, or was “in trade.” No, because he had no manners. Post was wealthy beyond imagination, but she gave to charity, was unerringly polite, and while she probably denied herself nothing, she was careful to hurt no one.
Perhaps the meanest of all is how deftly and correctly Trump defines the problems facing America today. The meanness is this: He does not intend to solve the problems. He uses them to gather political power. Remember when he told his people not to pass the legislation to solve the immigration problem because he was going to run on the problem?
The good news is: He will; he does back down. In fact, he has rescinded almost every executive order he issued. So, stay focused. We are not helpless. We can and should oppose the meanness. Stand with those falsely accused, fired without cause, called names, not allowed to exercise their rights—stand with them and stand against meanness. Know what? Really, we have no right to hurt each other.