John F. Kennedy sported Wayfarers, his appearance urbane and manly behind those dark lenses. It’s a look the whole nation might adopt because, now that hope and change has proven itself detrimental, which American wants to show his eyes anymore?
Certainly not the collegians who flocked to the polls in 2008, en masse giddy to vote for celebrity Obama; deep in Mom’s basement they now brood, shame and age creeping over them while meaningful jobs remain elusive; barely do they find courage to lift sullen gazes from stained carpeting.
Nor do the gainfully employed dare lift nervous eyes from dread of catching the boss’ troubled face on its way over, uneasily approaching with news that, well, she’s sorry but Obamacare’s the cause, the reason she needs to let someone go.
We trudge America’s sidewalks with downcast eyes nowadays, afraid our glance will meet the doleful gaze of a hungry veteran, tired of glimpsing EBT cards settling up in liquor stores, fearful our vision will trip over a headline or television banner: national debt tops 18 trillion. Don’t look up, America, or you’ll witness Islam’s violent advance while our own military withers; smoke from riots rises while cop-haters chant in the streets; Russian tanks rumble through Ukraine. No, it’s best not to witness Obama’s dreary world of enormous government and weak America, a nightmare haunted by IRS and EPA brutes, cries for social (never legal) justice, and taxes rising while prosperity wanes.
So avert your eyes, America, but if you do risk a peek, why not try for that JFK look? If nothing else, sunglasses just might hide your tears.
And Obama? Not even a mask of tinted lenses will transform him into a Jack Kennedy. Kennedy, after all, was a leader.
Watching A Wreck 