Probably Weird For Republicans To See Kids Who Are That Proud Of Their Dad
Probably Weird For Republicans To See Kids Who Are That Proud Of Their Dad
Tim Walz's kids probably spend holidays with him and everything.
Last night at the Democratic National Convention, whether you were inside the United Center, watching at home, or somewhere in between, one of the most instantly special moments was when Coach Governor Tim Walz was speaking and the camera (the Jumbotron if you were inside) panned to Walz’s kids Hope and Gus, who were visibly in tears with pride over what their father was currently doing.
“That’s my dad!” shouted Gus, who was just about bawling. Up in the media section, among all the surely Very Serious Reporters, there were audible gasps of emotion when that happened.
And almost immediately the reaction on social media from a number of Republicans looked like this:
The comments on that tweet were so vile that the Blaze, that clearinghouse for self-reflection, appears to have deleted it entirely.
When even some people who are usually assholes tweeted about how moved they were by the Walz family, they got the same thing in their replies:
Enter those replies at your own risk.
To be clear, the consensus among all decent human beings was that it was an incredible moment the likes of which we rarely see in politics.
Some people are talking about how Gus Walz is neurodiverse, has a nonverbal development disorder the Walz family has been outspoken about, which would make it extra-cruel and vile and inhuman for Republican rotting carcasses to make fun of him and his reaction to his dad being on that stage.
But it also bears mentioning that it’s increasingly difficult to imagine a MAGA politician or pundit doing anything to elicit such emotion from their kids. Can you imagine a Trump child being so proud of their father they’re moved to tears? What about JD Vance or another US senator?
Does anybody think Kentucky Rep. James “Pigfuck” Comer’s kids are in tears right now, upon their dad’s release of his 291-page findings into Hunter Biden’s Chinese Communist Penis? Can anyone imagine them shouting out for their dad like that?
Does anybody think Megyn Kelly’s kids are standing behind her like “Yeah mom! Send another tweet about the genitals of that Algerian boxer”?
Can you imagine Donald Trump Jr. just beaming? (Not in his regular “My father doesn’t love me” pathetic way, we mean like a normal person.)
Spoiler, you can’t. And that’s just one of a million reasons MAGA is freaking the fuck out right now.
To mix sports metaphors, pretty much everybody agrees Tim Walz home-runned a three-pointer into the touchdown zone last night, by which we mean he nailed it. “Our job for everyone watching is to get in the trenches and do the blocking and tackling,” he said, as the fired-up crowd cheered for the coach.
“We’re down a field goal. But we’re on offense and we’ve got the ball. We’re driving down the field. And, boy, do we have the right team,” he said at another point.
Tim Walz, the former high school coach and teacher from Minnesota, just simply brought the house down.
And when he was done, his boy Gus ran up on that stage and gave him the biggest hug ever.
Stay mad about it, Republicans.
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Movie night for me fizzed, or should I say DomPartner did (😡don’t ask). BUT saw this g em earlier today- if you need a ‘feel good’ flick:
https://youtu.be/9dP5lJnJHXg?si=7s-DDeOBdvG3BqmL
In celebration of Gus Walz, I want to share my perspective on what living life as neurodivergent has been like via going to a magic show.
I’m looking forward to going to the magic show. It’s written down on my calendar, circled, and there’s a countdown until showtime. Fortunately, I have a physical ticket – which I love. It has a perforated stub attached and I tease at the ticket a little bit to rip it because I love ripping perforated things. But I leave enough of the stub attached to the ticket so that it’s not voided.
On the day of the show, I make sure that I have my pre-ripped ticket, put a check mark against the date in my calendar and set out to meet up with my friends and family who are also going to the magic show. I will drive by myself but offer to pick someone up, if needed, and hope that they don’t really need a ride because this will entail doing some reconnaissance on the map app to figure out how long the trip will take. But, if they do need rides, I will make sure that I pick them up with time to spare so that we’re not rushed. Contrary to conventional wisdom – I have empathy; a shit load of empathy. The way that I show that I love folks is to be on time, make sure my car is in working order, have a full tank of gas and the directions pre-loaded into the map app. I will also make sure that any riders have their tickets too. They will show them to me.
At the magic show, I will think about who I am sitting next to. It’s not that I don’t love everyone – it’s that I like magic shows in a different way than most neurotypical folks. And I don’t want to ruin the experience for them. I will sit at the end, so that I only have to sit by 1 person that I know. By the time the show starts, I have turned off my phone and I identified all of the fire exits. I already know what I want to eat and drink during intermission. It’s what I always get.
The show starts and this will be the only part of the show that we can all agree on. After this, the first trick will be performed and things will get dicey after that. Since the magician is directing my attention over to stage right, I will look stage left. I see the curtain shift subtly. I figure that there is only one outcome to the trick. I am correct. I also know how the trick was done. If I was the magician, I’d have words with my crew about staying away from the curtain.
Everyone that I’m with loves the trick.
It’s not that I ‘hate’ the trick. I like it, but not in the same way. The entire magic show continues in this way with me seeing slight deflections in boxes, hearing latches open & shut over the rising sound of the orchestra, and noticing the placement of various containers over trap doors on the stage. For the most part, I can figure out how each trick is done. The magician is very clever and I appreciate the care and practice that has gone into the performance.
After the show is over, everyone that I love is talking about how great the show is and that they can’t figure out how the tricks are done.
Cue the anxiety.
I know that I shouldn’t talk about how the tricks are done because, socially, it’s frowned upon and I’ll come out looking like a know-it-all. So, I will mask. I will smile and say that it was a great show (I mean it!) but I will not talk about how the tricks are done. Most of my friends already understand that I think the way I do, but there’s always a bully.
“What’s the problem (freak, implied)? You didn’t like the show?”
I feel the attack. These assholes always have a radar to home in on people like me.
“I liked the show,” I say truthfully.
“What was your favorite trick?”
“I don’t have a favorite.” FWIW, it seems unfair to the other tricks to pick a favorite. Also, the magician has to curate the tricks in a way that the show flows together. So, to dismiss the card tricks at the expense of the grand finale water torture chamber trick doesn’t seem like a fair fight.
“How can that be, that you don’t have a favorite trick, (freak).”
I don’t like this person and I will not continue the conversation. I will stare at them. And I will walk away.
The stress and anxiety of trying to fit it with others often means that I will mask how I feel about the magic show. If I don’t know them, I will make bland comments until I figure them out. If we do know each other we will share our perspectives on the show. If I love them (and want to sleep with them) I will draw detailed sketches on shitloads of paper and do a data dump on each magic trick.
Being around neurotypical people can be draining. There’s an expectation that I will share their perspective of the magic show but, no, I didn’t notice the earrings that the assistant was wearing, I didn’t notice the costume changes. Being in a small talk conversation with them where I have to pretend to notice or care about little things that have NO BEARING on how the magic trick was done is exhausting.
After the show is over, I will grab something at the diner with my close friends and family. I will run my fingers along the perforated ticket that is now stub-less. I will safely drop off any folks who have ridden with me to the magic show. And then, I will use the map app to find a completely new way to get home. And I will think about new adventures I want to explore.