Nothing wrong with admitting a mistake

Forrest Johnson

Editor’s note: A bit of an arm injury during fishing season has left me operating with one hand for a while. Please accept a repeat column I feel is appropriate.

I’ve had enough with political correctness.
I’m going to speak my mind.
You people who voted for Rumpt got it wrong. Bad choice. He’s a ninny and a liar and you people have to admit your mistake. Please don’t take too long so we can all be done with this faux president. Payosa Loco, the Crazy Clown.
I’ve been listening to all the commentary about including Rumpt voters in the wider national discussion, to not write them off as out of touch and willing to listen to a snake oil salesman. Yes, apparently a lot of you are disaffected voters, feeling like the world has left you behind. You’re starting to think like Rumpt, that you’re all victims of a scheme to take away your country, that liberal elites on the coasts are running the show and keeping you downtrodden and without hope.

You made the wrong choice. The guy is a boob. He makes things up and calls them alternative facts. There are no alternative facts other than to lie and deceive and distort on a daily basis. He does this every day, folks. He makes it up every day. There is no basis to covering up for the guy. He lies daily to convince his feeble, childish narcissistic mind that he’s always right.

Did you hear the speech he made to the Boy Scouts last year? Wow. If I was fourteen and in that crowd I would have launched a shoe at him. He was politicizing and boasting and lying to our youth. The Boy Scout National Jamboree. Wow.
At some point, you Rumpt voters are simply going to have top let it go and admit you got it wrong. You voted for a self-absorbed bonehead. Admit it.
I run a boat in Alaska for part of my living. I’m the skipper, the captain. I’m supposed to get things right out there as we fish the largest salmon run in the world. You know what? I’m not always right! I get it wrong! I make rookie mistakes! Just this season I had my come-uppance a number of times and I had to tell my crew “You got it right. I should’ve listened.”

One tide was huge. Fish filled the nets. We were going crazy picking and watching the tide so we wouldn’t go dry with fish on board. Realizing we were running out of water I had to tow a 300-foot net out deeper so we could round haul the whole thing onto the deck, a tangle full of fish. 
I timed it wrong. I wasn’t quick enough to the site to begin with and we had to scramble to get out of the hole. But we weren’t done. The crew, including my younger daughter, picked and picked as we steamed toward the tender boat anchored a few miles away. My daughter, looking up as we neared the tender mentioned that it looked like it was anchored in a pretty shallow channel. She kind of mentioned that we probably should head toward the river mouth and stay in deeper water. Screw the tender. 

Naw, we can make it, I said.
When we got to the tender and started off-loading our braillers, Ricky and Joe, the two cartoon characters who were running the Sara-Lean as we called it, shouted out that they were in four feet of water and going dry. Geez. We got rid of four bags of fish and Ricky used the loader to swing our front end around so we could be in a little deeper water. Again, my daughter mentioned that we were already at the tender and we could pick our nets and ice the fish and off-load right there. Who cares if we went dry? We were at the tender.

Naw, we can make it, I said.
So off we went, poking along in a mere few feet of water, still loaded with at least six thousand pounds of fish. We nosed into a sandbar. The tender was a hundred yards behind us. All hands on deck jumped into the water and pushed like fools to back us out and find the channel again. We putted along, water going out, and barely made it to a crossing channel leading to the river mouth. We had escaped disaster even though we sat just offshore and picked and iced fish for hours near Pete’s, our on-land tender at the river mouth.

My daughter was right.
I was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
You Rumpt voters were wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
There was a letter to the editor in the local paper where a fellow claimed Rumpt had done more in six months in office than Obama did in 8 years. What? At this speed, Rumpt will go down as the least effective president in history by a landslide. Nothing has been done. Nothing. No health care, no infrastructure, no pretty wall, nothing. Zip. Tax reform? Hah! Taxes have been slashed for corporate America and the One Percent. The deficit is going up by a trillion dollars as we speak. Where are the New Conservative Neanderthal Party tax hawks today? 

I heard this farmer from North Dakota on a radio news program, a devout Rumpt supporter. The farmer said he liked the president because he speaks his mind. All I could say in response to the radio was that my mom would have washed my mouth out with soap if I said the things Rumpt says.
You people got it wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

End of story.