— Eye on Everett

The mayor talks Trump

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By JOSH RESNEK

It is impossible to imagine, but Carlo admires President Trump,” the Blue Suit began. He spoke to me with weariness in his voice. He was bothered by the harsh reality or being worn by an Everett guy who plays Democrat while leaning in another political direction.

He isn’t offended by Trump. He is turned on by Trump. There are times when Carlo is flabbergasted by Trump’s behavior and yet he remains drawn to it,” said the Blue Suit.

“How does this manifest itself?” I asked the Blue Suit. “What about Trump is like Carlo?”

The Blue Suit lit up a joint he pulled from his suit pocket.

‘What are you looking at me like that for?” he asked me. “I found the joint in my pocket. You can bet your left arm I didn’t put it there.”

He puffed on the joint, smoking it a bit like a chimney exhaling heavy smoke. In a minute, he was thoroughly stoned. His mood improved. He became a bit more talkative.

“I’m hungry,” he said to me.

“Let’s talk first. We can get a snack or something later,” I suggested.

‘What about Trump is like Carlo?” I asked again.

“You know how Carlo says he likes Black people, women, minorities, and all that. That’s exactly what Trump claims. Well, you don’t find Carlo wanting to talk with our Congresswoman Ayanna Pressley or Councilor Gerly Adrien. He doesn’t want to have anything to do with Pressley because he can’t get anything from her. She feels no need to pay attention to him. I’ve heard him say she’s not his type at all – and I know this – it’s because she’s black, assertive, incredibly well-spoken, and a power in Washington. He wants nothing to do with Adrien, either. He can’t stand her. She’s nothing to him but a pushy Black woman who ought to leave Everett and move to Chelsea,” said the Blue Suit. “Adrien gets in his way,” the Blue Suit added.

“Trump praises Black people and minorities. He says he’s done more for them than any president. When push comes to shove, he praises white supremacists and Black haters, claim- ing they’re nice people just like the Black people complaining about them. Bottom line, Carlo’s lies about wanting diversity are exactly like Trump’s lies about being the friend of Black people. It’s all about smoke and mirrors if you know what I mean?”

“Have you got a drink or anything like a mint? I’m thirsty. Boy, I could eat a two-foot-long Submarine sandwich from DeBlasio’s in about three bites right now. Wow! That joint was really good. I wonder where Carlo got it?” he asked.

“Tell me, I asked the Blue Suit, what else about Trump does Carlo admire?”

“He likes that Trump makes fun of people and puts them in their place. He loves how he makes a mockery out of the rules of government. Most of all, he expresses wonder about Trump’s ability to control the press, to be the most talk- ed-about leader on the planet,” the Blue Suit said with great detail.

“Would Carlo like to hang out with Trump?” I asked. “Are you kidding me?” he replied.

“He’s called him at the White House, the way he used to call Steve Wynn before Wynn was tossed out of his own company. He called Trump him two weeks ago. He actually got through to him.”

“Are you serious?”

“Oh yes I am,” the Blue Suit answered.

“I heard the whole thing.”

It went a bit like this:

“Who is this?” Trump asked.

“Carlo. Carlo DeMaria. The mayor of Everett,” Carlo said. “Carlos DeMarine who?” Trump replied. “Not Carlos DeMarine. Carlo DeMaria,” the mayor repeated.

“Yup. What do you want, Carlos” the president said gruffly.

“I’ve heard about you. You love diversity like I do,” he said. Trump laughed at his own joke. “It is always good to talk with someone who knows how to fool everyone. That’s my specialty as you know,” the president replied.

Carlo stayed on point.

“It’s supposed to be warm tomorrow, Mr. President. I thought if you could make it, you might fly up here and play a round of golf with me and four or five of my people from city hall. We’re goin’ over to Happy Valley. We’ll all be wearing Black Lives Matter hats. I thought you’d like that.”

The president was warmer than expected in his response.

“Why don’t you fly down to Palm Beach. We can play there at my club, have a few drinks and whatever else after the round. What a foursome we can have. You, General Flynn, Mike Pompeo, and Attorney General Barr, and me. You’ll be right in your element, Carlos.”

Carlo lit up like the $8,000 Christmas tree he’ll be lighting in Everett Square shortly.

“Who pays, Mr. President?” Carlo asked Trump.

“You do of course. Did you think I was going to send Air Force One to Logan Airport to pick you up?”

“No. But I thought you might pick up my travel costs and green fees. Your club is pretty expensive,” Carlo said to Trump.

“Look, Carlo, any small-time city mayor who can spend almost $200,000 for wreaths and a tree can afford to pay his own way to play with the president. Anything else, Carlos?” Trump asked.

“Look, I don’t have a checking account or even a credit card. I don’t even own my donut shops anymore. They’re gone, and what’s worse, they were given to me.”

“Have you tried bankruptcy, Carlos?” the president asked him.

“I have,” Trump added. “I’ve done it six or seven times. It always works perfectly. I get out of everything I owe at the expense of my vendors, who all get screwed because I don’t have to pay their bills…

“A good bankruptcy, Carlos, is better than all the donuts in the world.”

“And hey, by the way, I was told when you were making the donuts you couldn’t manage to fill them with jelly without exploding them.”

“I like that, Carlos. Thanks for the call. Maybe some other time, like during my second term.”


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