Grab ‘Em by the What, Where?

by Stephen J. Lyons

Now that the infamous Access Hollywood tape made it back in the news I have questions for the “star” of the tape, that constant ingrown irritant in our short lives, aka the freshly convicted, twice impeached, sexual assaulter and martyr wannabe, Donald John Trump.

With my B.S. journalism degree in tow, and no name recognition beyond my driveway, I am the perfect reporter to query the scowling ex-president on some serious anatomy issues. Besides, the incestuous press pool of the East Coast is too timid for the job, instead preserving their energy for that next bestseller with titles like, “Democracy in Peril and How I Alone Can Save It,” “Why A Good Economy Spells Doom” and “The Rise and Fall of Joe Biden’s Bicycle.”

Let me begin by saying that the disgusting “grab ‘em by the” female reproductive organ is not the sort of “locker room” chatter I am accustomed to hearing. Well into my sixties now, my fellow weekend warriors discuss knee replacements, cancer treatments and colon cleansers. Obituaries come up quite often, and we trade dark jokes about who will be the next batter up.

I have never known a man in my diminishing circle of sexagenarians (less emphasis on the first three letters of that word) to use such a vile, unevangelical, and frankly baffling turn of phrase as the one uttered by the thrice-married, multiple-indicted septuagenarian.

So my question is, what did Trump mean? Obviously, this action is done without a woman’s consent and that makes the phrase even more repugnant. Not to ever diminish sexual assault, and do forgive me for asking, but what is it do you exactly grab onto? I posed this question one night to my wife who does possess the before mentioned lady parts. She looked up from the Facebook videos of frolicking baby kittens on her phone, glanced down there with a puzzled frown, shook her head, then said, “I have no idea, but can we please talk about something else?” Meow.

By now, after almost a decade of the 24/7 Trump act on rinse and repeat, we can surmise that etiquette is not one of the dude’s stronger suits. Perhaps his idea of foreplay is to ask his victim lover, “Are you awake?” I cannot confirm this, but in Stormy Daniels’ book “Full Disclosure,” the star of the ongoing Hush Money case, described her alleged date with Trump this way, “It may have been the least impressive sex I’d ever had.”

Is this why Trump denies the encounter?

For those who want to carry on his legacy of illegal assault they can buy a T-shirt on Amazon for $17.99 in 10 different colors with the words “Trump can grab my” above an arrow pointing to the you-know-where region.

That the T-shirt is “unisex” is more than a tad confusing, but I guess the purpose is to cover all bases, so to speak. If I ever saw a man in an aisle in Walmart wearing one of these shirts I would probably point and laugh. Well, not at a Walmart in an open carry state.

Memories are short in America. The Access Hollywood tape came out in 2016, or so many iterations of iPhones ago. In all fairness to our collective short attention span, when it comes to sex and the downfall of randy politicians in these United States, who can even keep track anymore. The cavalcade of clowns is endless, the pictures and quotes iconic, the repercussions a mixed bag.

Here is a refresher. Presidential candidate Gary Hart with Donna Rice on his lap on the appropriately named boat “Monkey Business.” President Bill Clinton wagging his finger and lying saying, “I did not have sexual relations with that woman, Miss Lewinsky.” Presidential candidate John Edwards coming clean about his affair (tip of the hat to the National Enquirer), but with the caveat that the child his mistress bore was not his. Two years later Edwards said, yeah, that’s my kid.

Others in the rolodex of revulsion: Eliot Spitzer, Anthony Weiner (perfect name), Bob Barr, Newt Gingrich, Larry Craig, Dan Burton, Mark Foley, Roy Moore, etc., etc., ad nauseam.  Note: I’m not coming up with a lot of female names.

All this grabbing and groping, denying and deflecting, followed by confessing and contrition is enough to makes one wonder if this kind of sordid behavior is a requirement of public service.

These are strange times we live in, and with each long news cycle from now until November 5 we will be reminded of every horrible act and statement Trump has ever made. We will also be reminded that it doesn’t matter a whit. As was the case in 2020, more than 40 million people will vote for him. Maybe more. He might well win a second term. If so, my fellow Americans, gird thy loins.

Stephen J. Lyons is the author of six books of reportage and essays, most recently “Searching for Home: Misadventures with Misanthropes” (Finishing Line Press).