Nov 8, 2016 4 min read

It’s hard to write a column scheduled to appear a day after a presidential election when you must write it before the results are known. I can’t be sure who won or if, indeed, anyone has been declared the victor. So I prepared opening zingers for any eventuality.

Clinton victory: “That rumbling sound you hear is from the stampede of illegal Mexican immigrants flooding across our southern border.”

Trump victory: “That rumbling sound you hear is from the stampede of Clinton supporters flooding across our northern border.”

No winner yet declared: “That rumbling sound you hear is from the stampede of Americans flooding into the bathroom.”

Now, if you’re reading this column in print, take a black felt-tip marker and block out the two that don’t apply. If you’re reading online, scroll until you can see only the one that does apply.

Then read the opening again and say, “This guy is great!” while laughing and shaking your head. “Nailed it again!”

Thanks. This is how Pulitzers are won.

Yet, even after all the histrionics of the last 18 months, we should consider ourselves lucky compared to our forebears.

The election of 1800 was particularly nasty, pitting Federalist John Adams against Republican Thomas Jefferson. Candidates did not actively campaign for themselves in those days. Instead, they hired hatchet men to sling mud. (Imagine Chris Christie in knee pants, stockings and a powdered wig, handing out leaflets while blocking the covered bridge from Jersey to New York.) Multiple charges flew between the candidates. Jefferson’s hack called Adams a “hideous hermaphroditical character which has neither the force nor firmness of a man, nor the gentleness and sensibility of a woman.” Adams’ supporters played the fear card: “Are you prepared to see your dwellings in flames … female chastity violated … children writhing on the pike? Great God of compassion and justice, shield my country from destruction.” Imagine what they would have said on Twitter.

In the election of 1856, opponents of eventual winner James Buchanan hinted a congenital condition that caused his head to tilt slightly to the left was actually the result of a failed attempt to hang himself. Was this the origin of the term “left-leaning?”

I’m still up in the air about that one.

In 1968, someone spray-painted “Humphrey Dumpty” on Democratic candidate Hubert H. Humphrey’s garage door. Republican candidate Richard M. Nixon was seen running a block away with an aerosol can in his hip pocket.

OK, I made up that one.

But wouldn’t it have been refreshing? Wouldn’t it have been great if our current candidates had been more creative? If The Donald – a.k.a. “The Commander in Cheeto” – had looked in a mirror and, confused, punched himself in the face? If Hillary had traded in her pantsuit and pearls for a tie-dyed T-shirt and dreadlocks? But they didn’t, and our nation is all the poorer for it.

So, how should we feel in the wake of Election ’16? Happy? Because, election over, no one will ever again post inflammatory rhetoric on social media. Or sad? Because, election over, all we can channel our hate and vitriol into now is bickering over what to call the upcoming December holiday season!

Merry Christmas? Don’t force-feed me your lousy values of love and peace on Earth, you stinking usurpers of sacred pagan traditions! Happy Holidays? Don’t expect me to drink my latte from your satanic-red PC “holiday cup,” Starbucks! Happy Hanukkah? Take your “Buy 8, get 1 free!” candle sale elsewhere, Hallmark! Kwanzaa? Go back to Africa, Tarzan – and take Jane and Boy with you!

Let the flames begin.

#BahHumbug