HELLO, NEW YEAR, GOODBYE, ANGER

As all good friends should do, I called my buddy Biff a couple of days ago to wish him a Happy New Year.

“Hope 2026 treats you well, old buddy,” I cheerily said. “I know 2025 was tough on all of us, especially with Trump doing all that crazy stuff.”

“It sure was,” he replied. “But I’m looking forward to 2026 now that I’ve become a Trumper.”

“Excuse me?”

Biff has always detested Trump. He tells anyone who will listen that the President is an immoral criminal who has torn our country apart. And now he’s suddenly a Trumper?

“Yep, I’m changing my ways,” he continued. “I decided my hatred for the man has not been good for my health. I’m now embracing him.”

“ARE YOU NUTS?” I cried. “What’s got into you? No one can make such a drastic change like that overnight!”

“I can, and I did. You should try it. I feel a lot better every time I hear any news. Instead of my blood pressure rising, I just nod my head in admiration.”

I was becoming apoplectic while he sounded calm and composed. I had to test him.

“So you’re okay with him pardoning the President of Honduras, who was convicted by a 12-person jury and sentenced to 45 years for trafficking drugs, and then staging a kidnapping in Venezuela and prosecuting Maduro for the same thing?”

“He pardoned the Honduras president in 2025, when I still hated Trump. This is a new year. I’m sure there’s a lot of logic behind the Venezuelan operation,” he replied. “Donald never makes a mistake.”

He sensed my frustration and took pity on me. “I had no choice,” he softly said. “The man was wearing me down. Every day he would do something that made me so, so angry. I figured I had to move on or die.”

“What about the fight? You were always the first one to protest, the first one to argue, the first one to scream your opposition. How can you embrace him now?”

“Easy. I’ve just decided he’s good entertainment. He’ll be around for three more years and I will be too, assuming I can control my anger.”

“What about the Epstein files?” I asked.

“Boys will be boys.”

“What about his threat to take over Greenland, now that we’re running Venezuela?”

“Makes sense to me. The Danes won’t miss it once it’s gone.”

“What about his threats to intervene in Columbia?”

“Hey, it’s been said that South America stole our name. We’re all Americans in one way or another. Might as well grab Canada while we’re at it. We’ll all just be one big happy family under President Trump.”

“Biff, you’ve completely lost your mind. I understand you’re concerned about your health, but you’re forsaking all your principles. Is it really worth it?”

There was a long pause, followed by a big sigh. “I just can’t take it any longer. Trump Derangement Syndrome is taking me down. I consider this new attitude my only chance at rehab. Please forgive me.”

I tried to gather up some sympathy but was having trouble. This big, strong brute of a man, my good friend, was collapsing. He couldn’t take the constant stream of bizarre events transpiring in Washington and Mar-A-Lago. I had to find a way to help him.

“Don’t you see what’s happening?” I pleaded. “You’re playing right into his hands. He’s worn you down with absurd statements and bizarre moves day after day after day. You’re accepting the norm.”

I’m not sure, but I think he was starting to choke up. His voice was shaky. “I just want to wake up happy again. I can’t take three more years of anger.”

Trump’s approval ratings have inched up slightly over the last month, although they’re still dismal. I couldn’t help but think there were others hitting the proverbial wall, just like Biff.

There was only one solution for my broken, disenchanted friend---an intervention, followed by three weeks at an anger management retreat. That should do the trick.

Victory in the midterms would probably help, too.

Contact Nick at nickhoppe61@gmail.com. For archived columns, visit www.hoppecolumns.com