Char and I are in Ireland, on the very rural Dingle Peninsula. I have not heard or read a single reference to Donald Trump in five days. In fact, I’ve not heard or read a single comment about American politics of any sort. I do not quite understand how someone can live this close to the US (the Dingle Peninsula is the western-most point of Europe, only a few thousand miles from the New World) and not think our childish politicians are the most important and interesting people on earth.
The truth, of course, is that the extreme importance of the United States is known only to us. No one else knows that we’re God’s favorite people, that we’re the Most Right People on Earth, and that everyone else needs us and us alone.
When you stand inside a hut made only of piles of rough rock, trying to imagine the monks and hermits who lived here centuries before Columbus, things do take on a different perspective.
Tomorrow we head for England. The lessons our founding fathers learned about how to establish a democratic nation were gradually learned over a period of many centuries in England. Without that huge headstart (551 years from the Magna Carta to the Declaration of Independence) we could not have ended up with anything at all like the United States. Our debt of gratitude to England is immeasurable.
So, in effect, tomorrow we head for the motherland. I’m looking forward to it! And if I get a chance to chat with the Queen, I’ll tell you you said Thanks.