We don’t tend to be involved in the cut and thrust of international affairs in mid-Portugal.
It isn’t known as a hotbed of international intrigue.
However, a hostelry not too far from our little farm is frequented by an American lady who is a dyed-in-the-wool Republican, who not only voted for the quiffed buffoon in the White House, but is ready to defend his actions at every opportunity.
Let’s call her Val, shall we?
Perhaps I have too much time on my hands; it might be that I do not receive sufficient mental stimulation now that I have retired.
In any event, I find it enormously entertaining to engage Val in conversation and then make some slightly disparaging remark about our impeachable friend and witness the defence mechanism swing into action.
It has become a bit of a sport with me, I confess.
I’m not especially proud of it, but it’s harmless, passes the time and is really quite amusing to witness the degree to which quite sensible people are prepared to be hoodwinked.
Allow me to relate the most recent incident, which happened as I wandered past, whilst walking Eric, our dog, on a hot sultry afternoon.
I nipped in for a cooling beverage and was sitting, Eric at my feet, as Val ambled up.
We idly passed the time of day, as one does, when I deftly turned the conversation to Donald Junior, by making some remark that suggested that the Russia issue was perhaps getting rather too close to her hero for comfort.
Well, it was like a red rag to a bull!
There was talk of fake news, of the liberal left and, perhaps inevitably, the WITCH HUNT!
I capitalise this, as it was said with both volume and venom.
Spittle was forming at each corner of Val’s mouth by this time and she was looking slightly wild-eyed.
I hummed a little tune; then began to sing some slightly recognisable words: ‘impeach me, my sweet impeachable you…’ and she actually stamped her foot!
I defused the situation by changing the subject for a while and we were joined by a couple of other regulars.
Relative calm descended.
A few minutes later, however, this chap wandered over and asked Val if she thought that Donald would find it difficult to wriggle out of the latest twist in the Russia debacle.
His words were: ‘can Donald duck this one?’
Well, we laughed!
Even Val had the grace to smile, but it did raise a point, and even Val acknowledged it.
It’s getting a little too close for Donald’s comfort, now, isn’t it?
He’s sacked Mr Comey, General Flynn has gone and Ivanka’s Jared has gone very quiet.
What will he do with his eponymous son?
He can hardly disown him. He has defended him, calling him innocent and transparent, but it is all looking just a little bit corrupt, isn’t it?
The tragedy is that this quiffed buffoon can blithely discredit the office of the presidency with seeming impunity.
If he wishes to make a fool of himself that’s one thing, but he is beginning to make his office look openly corrupt.
Impeach me, my sweet impeachable you…
Mike Gaunt is a former headmaster at St Christopher’s School, Bahrain
mikegaunt@gmail.com