Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Well…..here we go.  No matter what you may think of the Donald, I believe we can all agree that nothing quite like this has ever happened before in the history of American presidential politicks.

Personally (and much to the ire of my Eldest who has been on the Trump Train since Day One), I am still in wait-and-see mode because I simply have no idea what’s actually going to happen.  On the other hand, I know to a micron the caliber of the bullet we dodged in refusing to crown She Who Must Not Be Named, so I am overall grateful.

This I do know:  The man has set himself one hell of a task.  The Deep Power (i.e., the bureaucracy, the mainstream media, and their fellow-travelers in academia and Hollywood) is going to do absolutely everything it can to destroy him, lest it finds itself destroyed.   As I say, one hell of a task.  On the other hand, who better suited to do it than a  pragmatic Noo Yawker business tycoon with Rudy Giuliani-like bridge-and-tunnel sensibilities?  And what better time than when technology has rendered the MSM obsolete as the gate-keepers of information?

Trump calls his task “draining the swamp”.  I like to think of it more as cleaning the Augean Stables.  The last couple days I’ve had an image in my head of the Donald, dressed in a lion’s skin and carrying a large club, furiously hammering on the banks  of the Potomac and the Anacostia to make them flow through downtown DeeCee.

‘Course, I’ve also had the flu.  So there’s that.

Anyhoo, we shall see what we see.

UPDATE: Caught a few minutes of the introductions and convocation (which I thought tastefully done) and the Donald’s speech.  I hope you like your steak tartare, because that there was some raw, red, dripping nationalist-populism, that was.  Trash-talking the Establishment to its face was kinda cool.

I didn’t see anything else, because just after the conclusion the Youngest Gel appeared and told me that the downstairs loo was overflowing.  D’OH!  Talk about your Augean mess!  I hammered at it for about 45 minutes with a plunger without result.  Then it started doing this curious loop where the bowl would empty out but a few seconds later the water pump in the basement would throw the sludge right back up.  Lather. Rinse. Repeat.  I figured this meant whatever was stuck in it was somewhere in the main drain out of the house, and for a while hoped that the flow back and forth across the mouth of the pipe might winkle free whatever was stuck in it.

No such luck.

Eventually, I was forced to call a plumber.  He agreed after poking around that it was a main drain blockage.  His pessimistic initial belief, however, was that we were dealing with either a collapsed pipe or a tree root, which left me feeling rayther faint.  Fortunately, however, he employed his sooper-dooper industrial-strength snake and found and cleared the stoppage about thirty feet out into the yard.

As I say, the mess was Augean.  I just got done cleaning it up a while ago.

And that, children, is how Ol’ Robbo spent the first afternoon of the Trump Administration.