Good evening! The winds have died down and the crash of the surf has muffled its booming voice into a gentle collision with the cool sandy shore tonight.
Grandpoppy and I watched the televised clip of Putin and Trump shaking hands after their private 2 hour conversation, on a blue painted stage, surrounded by a few of their colleagues. Then Putin pointed to the press corp in front of them and leaned in closely to ask Trump if these were the people who insulted him? Trump answered in the affirmative. Neither world leader attempted to modulate their voices, but let their collaborative aura of innuendo speak volumes.
Apparently, this was one item on/off of their agenda, that Putin purposely didn't try to protect. They must have discussed Trump's on-going feud with the press, during their meeting. Putin made it clear that he intended his message to be spoken for public consumption.
Putin made no apology for his openly inappropriate attempts to intimidate the press corp. Putin displayed an attitude toward Trump, much like a big brother who sticks up for a younger, weaker brother on the school playground. Putin's message found his bigger target, outside the walls of the blue room, leaving a precisely irrevocable impression intended for the world.
Tonight, I close my blog looking up at a star-lit night and a full ivory moon partially shining through a veil of a thick leafy Sycamore tree. And I wonder..."where is our country headed?"
"Good Night and Sweet Dreams!"
"Boner Appertite!"
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