Trump trial: 'I find myself needing a shower and some therapy after watching the news'

What a year last week was.

As I sip my coffee on Mother’s Day, I can’t help but contemplate where we’re headed, democracy-wise. Having lived through assassinations, riots, wars, moon landings, Watergate, 9/11, a pandemic and the "The Captain and Tennille" hour, I thought I could handle anything thrown my way. I really thought nothing could pierce my thick survivor’s skin. But after 14 days of Donald Trump’s porn star hush money trial, I find myself needing a shower and some therapy after watching the news.

The salacious details leave me longing for the days when presidents bored the hell out of us. One of the last conversations I had with my brother Kevin before he succumbed to cancer in 2020 was about Donald Trump’s saturation of the airwaves.

“I miss going days at a time without thinking about the president and what he was up to,” he said.

He was right. Once upon a time, there was something other than Donald J. Trump in the news. Now, every news hour begins with him, and everything else takes a backseat to his latest escapades, gaffes, alleged crimes and infidelities. Even the Israeli-Hamas conflagration is runner-up to Trump’s satin jammies. Segments on campus unrest come in a distant third to the discovery that Trump wears Old Spice after shave.

Make no mistake: I’m not immune. I’ve been sucked into the soap opera tale of Trump’s clumsy seduction and subsequent attempts to hide it. I’ve tuned in for the latest updates every day. I’ve chortled over the unflattering courtroom sketches and marveled over the saint-like patience shown by Judge Merchan. The trial that could end with Trump adding the descriptor “Felon” next to the honorific “President” has been hard to avoid or resist.

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I’m quite glad that my kids don’t let their little ones watch the news. Normally I would advocate for some glimpses into the world around them by the age of ten. After all, I grew up with the arrival of “Weekly Reader” as my favorite part of the grade school curriculum. I don’t think they need to hear that the man who was and could once again be president doesn’t use condoms. This, from a news junkie. I wouldn’t want to explain to a first-grader why a president would ask to be spanked, or what “porn star” even means. The word “star” might be too appealing to my granddaughters, both of whom love all that glitters.

Granted, it’s not the first time America has squirmed uncomfortably under the details of a president’s icky behavior.

Bill Clinton and the blue dress made many a parent change the channel. That was really creepy stuff, but my kids were busy navigating the choppy waters of middle and high school during the late '90s, so I didn’t have to explain why a cigar isn’t always a cigar, or why someone would think the word “is” has two meanings. They weren’t paying close attention, and I wasn’t steering them toward the six o’clock news. Call me a coward. I won’t deny it.

Will presidents ever again be seen as role models for children? Trump has managed to make everything about being the leader of the free world seem like nothing to aspire to, unless you want to sell hats, shirts and sneakers to gullible folk tethered to their TVs. Hell, QVC has that gig tied up with a bow.

I don’t think I’m alone in saying that I’m really most sincerely sick and tired of wall-to-wall Trump. In 2015, the circus came to town and never left, and we’ve all been paying the price of admission over and over again. November can’t come quick enough; I’m ready to get a refund for my peanuts.

And, sigh — it’s only May.