I was asked Monday what I thought of Donald Trump's Navajo Code Talker gaffe. My holiday retail work schedule kept from piecing together a response until today. First, I don't consider it a gaffe, a boner, or a goof. I consider it the action of a man unconcerned with and/or untrained in simple, civil human interaction. I don't think Donald Trump conspired with the Russians (though members of his campaign staff may have.) I don't believe he's foolish enough to start a nuclear war. But, whatever we're calling it, it's THIS embarrassing crap I knew we'd be subject to with Trump as the face of our country. It's the direct consequence of electing an ill-mannered, gold-plated, empty-headed game show host.
No, empty-headed probably isn't accurate. I imagine anytime the president speaks his brain is like Gilligan riding a Coconut Bicycle Public Speaking Machine the professor pieced together with bamboo and jungle vines. Gilligan starts pedaling, the lights flicker, the motor begins to whirr as Trump's lazy synapses begin to fire. The president struggles to connect with the people before him. As Gilligan pedals faster, Trump searches his vast vocabulary and wealth of charm to stitch together a sentence. 'Okay, they are indians. C'mon Donnie, people are counting on you. Indian summer...Indian motorcycles...Indian corn.' By now Gilligan is pedaling so hard smoke is pouring from the coconuts. 'Cowboys and Indians...Cleveland Indians...Aha! Pocohantas!'
You can see the moment in the video when his intracranial CPU (Clown Processing Unit) latches onto what he assumes is this delightfully clever answer. Trump is so pleased with himself to be able to work in an insulting jab against a political opponent while "honoring" the code talkers. To be clear, I don't care if Elizabeth Warren is zero percent Cherokee or one hundred percent. This isn't about her. It's also not a left/right, Democrat/Republican issue. My beef is with the Nitwit-in-chief having a complete lack of understanding of context or couth.
We know the guy uses Pocohantas as a pejorative to be dismissive of Warren, but he likewise insults the very men he supposedly honors by saying it the way he does at the ceremony. Men who admirably and bravely served our nation in a way the president refused. All done under the watchful gaze of a portrait of Andrew Jackson. (I half expected the portrait come alive. With an evil cackle, Head of Jackson would shoot lasers from its eyes, chasing the Navajo heroes from the Oval Office while bellowing, "Trail of Tears 2.0, Mother F*$#ers!") Context, people.
The event was a golden opportunity for Trump to leap over the absurdly low bar of acting presidential. In golf parlance even he can understand, the ball was set on a tee waiting to be crushed down the fairway. Step one: Welcome heroes. Step two: Say something nice about heroes and their service. Step three: Pose for photo with heroes. This is the easy part of the job. As I heard it described the other day, in this situation the president is a representative of all U.S. citizens in that we don't get the opportunity to honor and thank these soldiers personally; the president is doing it for all of us. That's why his role in this ceremony is important. And he can't even be a goodwill ambassador for five flippin' minutes without making it political or about himself. Just like after Charlottesville, he couldn't execute the simple task of having a normal human reaction or interaction. It's not a gaffe or a goof, and it certainly isn't surprising, only disappointing.
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