Professor Harold Hill is a con man. He knows no more about music than Charlie Sheen knows about chastity. But he does know about separating parents from their money. Taking the overheard comments from legitimate traveling salesmen as a challenge, Hill’s first line in The Music Man is “Gentlemen, you intrigue me. I think I shall have to give Iowa a try.” On to River City.
Compared to Donald Trump, Harold Hill is a saint.
Hill took his marks’ money, made promises he had no intention of keeping, and represented himself as something he decidedly isn’t, but at least he delivered the instruments and uniforms. In Trump’s version, the Wells Fargo wagon never comes. The 76 trombones never arrive. He takes the cash, kisses Marian Paroo, convinces Mayor Shinn to give him the keys to the city, and leaves for Manhattan.
Trump has been honest about one thing. He had no idea his campaign would end up being so successful. He never planned for it. Trump never plans for continuing success. He only makes plays, cons another town, takes the cash and runs back to Manhattan.
Atlantic City, Bridgeport, and Gary, Indiana. Trump’s trail of tears gives the Cherokee some comfort, as investors and “partners” (another word for “victims”) lose billions while Trump walks away with his millions.
Now Cleveland has become River City–and there’s Trouble, with a capital “T” that rhymes with “D” that stands for Donald. Trump has raided his own campaign’s coffers. It’s all been done right up front before our eyes (just Google “Trump pays himself.“). Trump is out of money, and like all con men, is looking for us to go all-in to fund his doomed campaign.
All of this is classic con man behavior. Don’t believe me? Check Wikipedia (although Wikis are frequently wrong, this is not about Trump, it’s about confidence tricks). The GOP is now at the stage called “The Hurrah,” the point where some crisis changes the game and forces the victim to act immediately. Trump says he can self-fund, but he needs your cash today!
Ben Carson–the master of the backhanded non-compliment–said with his outside voice that supporters may need to be educated in the art of clicking the “donate” button. In Trump’s Music Man, Carson plays Marcellus Washburn, the straight man. The only character missing in Trump’s musical farce is Charlie Cowell, who in the play exposes Hill for the charlatan he is.
From Trump’s claim of graduating Cum Laude from Wharton (he didn’t), to his $10 billion (nope), to the lies upon lies he’s told about his own lies and other people’s lies, the man is a fraud committing a fraud upon the GOP and the country.
The Republican National Convention is less than 30 days away. There is only one way to avoid the humiliating disaster of the party marching through the streets of every state capital and Washington, D.C., without any instruments at all, with no tune to play, while Trump absconds with our money and self-respect.
On July 18, the convention delegates must do what is necessary to expose and expel the man who sold us all down the river.