Lawrence Alma-Tadema’s “The Meeting of Antony and Cleopatra, 41 B.C.” (1885), oil on panel, private collection.
Smit-ten.
That was the mutual word. Donnie said it was an “honor” to meet Vladdie. Vladdie, looking out from under shy eyes – or should that be sly eyes? – kept calling Donnie “Mr. President.” It must’ve been like the moment Mark Anthony reunited with Cleopatra on her barge. For so long the meeting had been a foregone conclusion. Now, here it was at last.
They shook hands. They leaned in. The chemistry was described as “warm.” (Try hot.) And when Melania tried to break up the meet to keep her hubby on track, she was – what a surprise – ignored. Oh, Melania, will you become like the embittered Michelle Williams character in “Brokeback Mountain”? Is there a Slovenian word for “triangle”?
As with other destined sweethearts, Donnie and Vladdie decided what’s done is done. Translation: What happens in Congress regarding Russkiegate should stay in Congress. Why “relitigate” the past? Why indeed, when the future with your beloved is so much more enticing.
The present, not so much. Part of the problem with love stories is that the lovers tend to leave a trail of death and destruction in their wake (“Brokeback,” “Romeo and Juliet,” “Antony and Cleopatra,” “Wuthering Heights”) before love consumes them (“Tristan and Isolde”). While Vladdie and Donnie dallied, dangling promises of a ceasefire in Syria – if we had a dollar for every useless ceasefire in that poor, bedraggled county, we’d be millionaires – Europe and Asia were making trade deals left and right. (Donnie took a break from Vladdie to talk “special relationship” and work out a trade deal with Terry – alias Theresa May, Prime Minister of Brexiting Britain – that was just a reminder of how far the two countries have fallen.)
Let’s be clear about this: German Chancellor Angela Merkel is now the leader of the free world – cue The Rolling Stones’ “Angie” – with an assist from those new BFFs French President Emmanuel Macron and Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau. (How long before those two become the subject of a male-male romance on fan fiction sites?)
The United States, once first among equals, is now just among equals. And for that we can thank the isolationism of Trumpet and the Trumpettes, who wish to turn back the clock to the 1950s when women in evening gowns swanned through atomic kitchens on TV commercials, coal was king and a black guy had no chance of being president of the United States, let along saving us and the world from the financial brink, creating a million jobs, pushing for healthier, better educated kids, oh, and finally getting Osama bin Laden. Damn you, Barack Obama! Why did you have to be so good?
Donnie bragged to the other G-20ers that the American stock market has never been higher. How long do you think that’s going to last if we get into a trade war?
Donnie also tried to interest Manny (Macron) in the oxymoronic idea of clean fossil fuel. But Manny wasn’t buying it. He’d rather hang with Justy (Trudeau) and his rainbow socks at the cool table.
The world to Donnie: Cue “My Heart Will Go On.”