Special envoy to Washington8 in the morning Journalist Jonathan Karl calls Donald Trump and they talk off the mic. Later, Karl explains to Fox News that Trump sounded thick and sleepy, because he had finished a rally in North Carolina late the night before, and that when he asked him “What could happen for you to lose?”, instead of putting whether to laugh or to remind him that Trump never loses, he told him: “Yes, I guess it could happen. things happen Bad things happen.” The journalist comments in surprise that he had never heard him say that. The presenter of the morning swallows saliva in disgust, as if she were imagining it. Did they just give Trump the tracking morning election?
At the time Trump wakes up, I’m leaving a parking lot and I approach an African-American man, sitting on the platform of a walker, surrounded by bags and a cane to hold the cup where he waits for the dollars that will allow him eat today He wears a veteran’s cap of the corps of marines. His name is Tony and he is 62 years old.
– I was marine of the United States for eight years, but I was fortunate that I never had to go into combat.
-Who will you vote for?
– Me? To nobody Who does not know that in this country the presidents are not elected, but appointed?
-What does it mean?
-That whoever wins the popular vote can lose the election. Don’t count with me.
– Won’t he tell me that he doesn’t care about Trump or Harris?
– Do you know what this is? A sleeping bag. I spent the night sheltered in this corner. There used to be shelters for us veterans to spend the night in. Neither of them have the slightest interest in us, so I’m not interested in them. To me Harris is white, as was Obama, as is Trump. The only one I would vote for would be Michelle Obama, because I find her whole. And Harris was a prosecutor. Someone who was a prosecutor can never be popular with black people.
Madison, Emily, and Olivia don’t act like they slept in a parking lot, exactly. Tracksuit, sports shoes and ponytail held with a rubber band. Since it is not too cold yet, they are taking theirs latte from Starbucks sitting cross-legged on a bench in a shopping street where the Christmas tree has already been installed. None of the three can vote, because they are 17, but I think they must be excited that a woman can be president, for the first time. When I ask them about the elections, they don’t yawn in my face.
-You can’t vote, but who would you like to win?
– I don’t care – they tell me two.
Olivia is more determined and gets wet:
– Kamala Harris. I think his economic policy would be better than Trump’s.
-Are you interested in politics?
– I want to study journalism. I am the director of the high school magazine.
On the car radio, Trump is heard at the rally the night before announcing the creation of a new crime, “the crime of immigration”, and they comment wildly that he called Harris a “prostitute”. Well, it turns out that Trump said that Kamala Harris has never worked at a McDonald’s, and someone in the audience yelled, “She worked corners!” Trump laughed and replied: “This place is great! And remember that I didn’t say it, someone else said it.”
This has been the garbage campaign. “Puerto Rico is a floating island of garbage!”; “Trump’s supporters are trash.” Trump has held rallies wearing a garbage can reflective vest. It has been like a visual poem, the perfect metaphor to capture how low the tone of the campaign has been. Problem: By January 20th, tons and tons of more trash must be ready.
After the electoral rubbish, they talk about mud on the radio. Of the mud that the kings of Spain got into in Valencia. And they explain that the downpours have moved to the Barcelona area. And now I’m the one swallowing saliva.
