“Bah, humbug.” A Donald Trump Christmas

As I prepare incidental music for the Summerland Singers and Players next Christmas Production, A Christmas Carol, A Live Radio Play by Joe Landry I cannot resist the temptation to substitute Donald Trump for the infamous Ebeneezer Scrooge. I have presented my idea to both cast and director. They have yet to seriously respond to my proposal.

Had they been at school together, Scrooge and Trump would have enjoyed the other’s company. They are evenly matched in narcissistic obsession. Trump’s self-centred delusions are on daily display. For now, rust-belt workers think he actually loves them and that the fight to make America great again is really about making Trump great, again, and again, and again.

Scrooge is likewise wholly concerned with himself—his comfort, his wealth, his very life. He demands absolute loyalty from his meagre staff demanding they work on Christmas Day. Marley took the easy way out; he died, leaving Bob Cratchit to endure Scrooge’s constant assault on kindness. All Scrooge’s energy is devoted to making money, as much as he can for no purpose beyond human enrichment and personal satisfaction. The figures entered in the ledger are nothing but figures; go figure! His dreadful insecurity makes him a despot, a loner (though not a loser, on paper at least). There are even similarities in hair coiffure between the two men.  Trump on the other hand wants to reduce the surplus population. He stands as a fake news messiah in a world full of fools and imbeciles. He would love to tell Bob Cratchit that he’s fired.

A key difference between the two men concerns colleagues (read: henchmen or women, blind loyalists, tyrants in rehearsal). Scrooge works alone, by design and desire. Were he to recruit others to further his self-centered agenda might he consider someone like former professional wrestling executive Linda McMahon to educate the locals. How about the celebrity surgeon Mehmet Oz, to organize London’s health care. And then how about the four men accused of sexual misconduct in some form, all gathered around the most famous abuser of all. (It’s like abuse is a qualification for male employment.) The above notwithstanding, I doubt even Scrooge could handle Robert F. Kennedy Jr. All in, a “Chamber of Horrors” meets “A Christmas Carol.” Bah, humbug.

Alternatively, could we imagine a Trump change of heart, a conversion  experience. Were Trump challenged by a daring spirit (Liz Cheney?) would he, could he ever exclaim, “Oh, no, Spirit, no! Hear me! I am not the man I was! Why show me this if I am past all hope? Your nature intercedes for me, and pities me. Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me, by an altered life.” I somehow doubt it.

Alas, I don’t know about you dear reader, but I expect to receive a lump of political coal this Christmas. I think both Trump and Scrooge would be delighted with such a charcoal ornament.

Do not despair however, dear reader. A marvellous seasonal alternative will be our show, our radio broadcast version of an edition of Dickens’ timeless classic. What would the Victorian literary Master make of our day? The worst of times? The best of times? We will never know.