He entered the Swamp to clean it out, but instead he became its king . . . just as he’d planned all along.

While the Swamp King appears never to have filed personal bankruptcy, his various businesses filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection six times between 1991 and 2009. SK claims four times, but when pressed on the matter, he has said that he counts the first three as one. These corporate actions have left many debt holders unpaid and many shareholders with equity losses.

I don’t think the nation will get out of its relationship with him any better.

Polls suggest that a majority of SK’s supporters — not counting his base, of course — neither trusts him nor approves of his performance as king in any but one category of the job he’s supposed to be doing. The one area he’s trusted is the economy, in spite of his being, demonstrably, a failed, flawed businessman.

And, from what I’ve heard out of people’s mouths, that one area of trust and approval is based largely on some version of “My 401K’s doing good.” This reason suggests a level of personal greed, even if it is benign greed — thoughtless greed — for most. And it might not be a reason that holds much water anymore since the coronavirus has tanked our economy.

In comparison to benefits offered to large corporations and the wealthy, SK cares not a whit for us as poor or middle-class individuals. And while some of his Swamp moves might have benefitted our small businesses in limited ways, that’s really only a measly trickle-down benefit in comparison to how those moves benefitted biggies in business and personal wealth. A devastating number of our small- and medium-sized business will not survive the swamp of systemic and administrative failures into which SK has led us.

Check out this arguably less repulsive image of Swamp King and consider how far the roses and the pecs go to redeem — to de-monster — the monster . . .

Exactly.

If the Swamp King is allowed to continue his reign, then we might be wise to consider these words:

We must keep our eyes fixed on the supreme government of the ETERNAL KING, as directing all events, setting up or pulling down the Kings of the earth at his pleasure, suffering the best forms of human government to degenerate and go to ruin by corruption. . . .

Dr. Samuel Langdon. A SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE HONORABLE CONGRESS Of the Colony Of the Massachusetts-Bay IN NEW ENGLAND, Assembled at WATERTOWN, On Wednesday the 31st Day of May, 1775.

I haven’t yet the heart to write of my mother’s passing on May 5, 2020, but I will soon. Instead, I return to my journal in an attempt to catch up with myself in years past. Below, I’m nineteen years old in the February of 1978 and in my second semester at Mars Hill College.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 022.178 (Tuesday, February 21, 1978)

Another day gone by but this one ended pretty heavy with a heavy snow. It began flurrying at around 12:30 but didn’t do much. Then at app. 4 o’clock it started heavy and by “5” there were around 2 inches on the ground. it hasn’t stopped since and we now have I guess around 5″ or 6″.

I’ve been feeling rather apart from God lately but I know He’s still there and this is just one of those times. He’ll pull me through. . . .

I would have loved to see a snow like that in this winter of 2019-2020.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 022.278 (Wednesday, February 22, 1978)

Today was George Washington’s birthday though I’m not really sure how old he would be.

We have a very heavy snow on the ground most of my classes were called off.

I’m really kind of worried about my ear ’cause it stays clogged up, but I’m sure the Lord will help me out.

George was supposed to be home today and I pray that he made it OK.

I also got a letter from Kelly and a map of how to get to her house next Friday. I can’t wait to see her again. It’s been almost a year.

I also have to get ahold of Leesa sometime to get my hair cut. . . .

February 22, 1978, was George Washington’s 246th birthday.

George Waters was (and is) my friend from Walnut. Although he now lives in the Pacific Northwest, he lived back then with his family off Brush Creek Road. We had some damned crazy times in school, in Youth Group, on Glory Ridge, with the White Water Band. The only time I ever got paddled in high school was on account of George. On the same day that our Madison High principal announced a crackdown on leaving school early without permission, I left at lunchtime without permission in order to drive to Asheville and see George off to the Coast Guard. The next morning our very large Assistant Principal, Mr. Bruce Sprinkle, called me to the office. We had a nice chat before he finally decided we should get the business over with so I could get back to class. He asked me if I’d like three licks or one and a half. I figured that the one and a half would actually be just one that packed most everything he had, so I chose three that I hoped would be judicious licks. I have no scars, so I think I chose wisely.

A few years ago, I saw George’s father at a Homecoming service at the Walnut Presbyterian Church. He told me that I’d been a bad influence on George. I’d never been called that before! Mr. Waters was always a hard one to read, so I wasn’t sure if he was serious or joking — I’m guessing both.

Again, Kelly–can’t remember her last name–was a girl from Greensboro whom I met with the White Water Band during our wild trip to Myrtle Beach in the summer of ’75, when I was sixteen years old. She was fourteen at the time, and by the time I took this 1978 trip to see her, she was probably seventeen. I don’t recall anything about the trip except for arriving in Greensboro during an ice storm and, as I was driving the last few miles, watching a build-up of ice that swept beautifully backwards from my side-view mirror along my window and door. Or maybe that was the year before?

Captain’s Log: Stardate 022.478 (Friday, February 24, 1978)

Today has been quite a day. Nothing big happened really, I just had a good one. This morning Dr. Bryant and I talked about flute for my whole lesson ’cause I couldn’t play too well because of my ear. I’ve decided to order a solid gold flute from Powell I guess because I really liked Dr. B’s flute the first time I touched it. The gold is because my body chemistry seems to just eat away silver. I’ll also buy a flute next winter with a fine enough quality to get me through the next few years.

I went back to Dr. Powell today and he said my ear was looking better. He also cleaned it so that now I can hear again! Praise the Lord!!!

I wrote Jerry Anderson a note today to tell him I’m dropping out of the group. It was something I had to do and I hope they take it right.

Old George is back in town. I haven’t seen [him] yet but I probably will tomorrow.

I talked to Mike Ponder at Dunham’s tonight to see what he thought about my chances of getting a part-time job there this summer. It sounded pretty hopeful.

The closeness I’ve felt to God today has really been strengthening. We seemed apart for a while but I hope that’s cleared up, ’cause it’s no live without him. . . .

I never bought that gold flute, having decided by the fall of ’79 that I didn’t have the dexterity to be a great flutist. I did, however, buy that flute of “fine enough quality” to see me through to the present day. It’s my beloved Muramatsu, and it has its own tale to tell!

I think Jerry Anderson must have been the leader of the singing group that I’d auditioned for and joined in the fall semester of ’77. And as for Mike Ponder and Dunham’s Music, I didn’t work there that summer.

Captain’s Log: Stardates 022.578 – 022.678 (Saturday-Sunday, February 25-26, 1978)

Last night I went out with George and Betty. It was really good to be with them again. My future plans weighed heavy on my mind but I’ve surpressed [sic] them no ’cause there’s no use in losing my head.

Today at Youth Group we got some really good work done in our music. Tonight I saw Leesa and had my haircut, then I came back to school and saw “Wizards“. . . .

Leesa was working at Creative Hair Design in Asheville and being a single mother to Lane. I doubt that I went to CHD for my haircut, given that it was Sunday. Probably it was to her place, whether in Marshall or Asheville. Regardless of where it was, I’m sure I went with butterflies in my belly, as I always did, hoping for I knew not exactly what, because she was — and still is — “The One Great Love” in my life.

Not sure what those heavy future plans were at that time.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 022.778 (Monday, February 27, 1978)

Today has been really easy. I got up sick, went to English, then lay in bed the rest of the day. . . .

Of course I went to English class!

Below we jump to the late winter of 1980, when I’d transferred to Belmont College in Nashville and was living in a one-room apartment, upstairs in a house on 17th Avenue South. I was twenty-one years old.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 022.680 (Tuesday, February 26, 1980)

Things are moving along as normal so there’s not much to report. Right now what I want to do is set some short and long range goals:

Short–1) buy reel to reel 2) move to Apt 1 downstairs 3) have a song published by June (at least one) 4) have a song on the radio and several on the market by December

Long–do my first album before age 25 (3 1/2 years) 2) be on Carson 3) fix piano at home 4) buy my own house 5) pay Mom and Jerry and Dad back for “unneeded expenses” 6) do “down home medley with family and friends. . . .

Let’s see about these short- and long-range goals: I got a reel-to-reel recorder (at some point); no song published by June; no song playing on the radio or being pitched on the market by December. In fact, I moved back to Walnut in June, and in December I was working in Mike Tweed’s sports store in West Asheville.

I actually did record my first album, Fiesta (never released) by age 25, and the single by the same name was released some seven months before my 25th birthday. I was never on Johnny Carson’s show, although a couple of my songs were in the late ’80s: “The Jaws of Modern Romance” and “Christmas Time,” both recorded by Gary Morris (although the links are to my versions).