107 Days

by Kamala Harris

His is a stunted, narrow definition of strength: the strength of the bully.

Say the subject is the color green. You might have a bunch of incredible things to say on the subject of green, but the buzzer goes before you’ve landed your best point, and by the time you get to speak again, the subject’s changed to orange. If you try to make your final great point about green, you won’t have time left to spell out your position on orange.

I knew I would never get their vote. But I didn’t want to write off the opportunity to connect with a fellow American, if there was any way I could reach across the divide and share a human moment.

I wished I could ask every one of them, What are you angry about? What about me makes you angry? Is it your health care, your grocery bills, a backbreaking job that doesn’t pay what you’re worth—and what can I do to help you? An impossible wish, since I didn’t even control the lock on my car door. And there were always people waiting for me—sometimes for hours—at the next destination.

And then I glanced across to the far side of the room, where Joe was sharing a joke with some guys in MAGA hats. One of them took his hat off and offered it to Joe. Don’t take it. He took it. Don’t put it on. He put it on. Cameras clicked. Within hours, the picture was all over: Joe Biden in a MAGA hat, with the caption “Biden endorses Trump over Harris.”

Puñeta

“It’s very nice that you called, and I appreciate it. You’ve done a great job, you really have. You’ve done a very, very good job… my only problem is it makes it very hard for me to be angry at you. It’s like, what am I going to do? How do I say bad things about you now?” “Well, then don’t!” I said, laughing.

He’s a con man. He’s really good at it.

Every night of those 107 days, my last prayer before sleep was to ask God, Have I done everything I could do today? I don’t know if there was more that I could have done to help those young people know me better, to give me their vote. I do know that I tried.

Was there any way I could help to get them access to the resources they still needed? I didn’t want them to feel that they were just case studies to be wheeled onstage to make a political point. They were showing tremendous courage in sharing their stories, selflessly trying to help others. It was painful and draining to learn what they’d been through, and I was determined to take as much time as I could, even if it messed with the schedule.

movement is about reminding each other that we have so much more in common than what separates us… Seeing in the face of a stranger, a neighbor.”

We pursue common interests in some areas while managing major conflicting views in others.

“And I knew at that point, although I was very proud to be Italian and Black, that the world looked at me as a Black man.”

My proposal was for a new tax credit for investment and job creation in key industries like steel, biotech, AI, semiconductors, aerospace, autos, and farming.

“You come off very scripted. You stick to your talking points.” “That would be called ‘discipline,’ ” I retorted.

The double standard on our style of presentation was galling. If I hesitated or backtracked midsentence to try to clarify or better express a thought, it was “word salad.” Meanwhile, Trump could describe Hurricane Florence as “one of the wettest we’ve ever seen, from the standpoint of water.”

Then we took a walk along a line of fence built during the Obama administration. (Trump had once staged a photo op touting his “big, beautiful wall,” but he’d done it in front of a section that Obama built—of the many things I was prepared to say at the debate, this was one observation I regretted not delivering.)

Someone with the username MattWallace888, who had more than two million followers, wrote that “elites” had engaged in “weather modification” to target counties that voted for Trump in the last election. I thought the idea was too crazy even for the most gullible, but his tweet received more than eleven million views. In a second post, he overlaid the storm’s path on a map of the 2020 election results, attempting to “prove” his crazy theory. The conspiracy took off on X and then TikTok, with videos there viewed more than a million times.

Why. Didn’t. I. Separate. Myself. From. Joe. Biden?

It was a tougher day than usual to be trying to enumerate Trump’s virtues. We’d just learned, from Bob Woodward’s reporting, that at the height of Covid, when Americans were scrambling to get their hands on scarce Covid tests, Trump had secretly sent tests to Vladimir Putin for his personal use.

Que hostia

Roots are important, of course. As recently as the 1970s, The Post did not endorse a candidate for president. As recently as centuries ago, there was no Post and the country had a king!… But if I were the paper, I would be a little embarrassed that it has fallen to me, the humor columnist, to make our presidential endorsement. I will spare you the suspense: I am endorsing Kamala Harris for president, because I like elections and want to keep having them.

This is a community with which I have a deep connection. I know transgender people. I know the parents of transgender kids. Beloved kids, just like any other. I know the pain and struggle that many families go through. I’ve heard so many personal stories. And I know the risks many of these children face from bullying and violence. Imagine being a parent, loving your child and worrying every day about the ugliness and attacks they might encounter. And for some families there are acute worries about depression, substance abuse, suicide.

No good public policy can be made with a chain saw.

Never mind what I think, listen to what his generals and top officials say. To have your own people who have worked with you say such a thing is far more damning than the opinion of your political opponent.

“Unlike Donald Trump, I don’t believe people who disagree with me are the enemy. He wants to put them in jail. I’ll give them a seat at the table.”

“Madam President,”

“In these next two days, we will be tested. These days will demand everything we’ve got… In times of uncertainty, we are reminded, ‘weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.’ ”

“We finish as we started: with optimism, with energy, with joy.”

“There comes a point when you’ve done all you can do. When your work has been completed… That’s when you just stand. Stand believing and knowing that you’ve done your part. Stand in the strength given to you by God.”

“Oh my God. What’s going to happen to our country?”

PuñetAaaaaaa

This was no football game. This was our country. Our democracy. Our freedom. And my mind simply would not allow me to believe that we had lost.

Two of the trending searches after the election: What is a tariff? Can I change my vote?

Gore Vidal called them “the four most beautiful words in our common language”: “I told you so.” I disagree, I don’t think they’re beautiful, and I wish I had no cause to say them.

“God gave you a beautiful 107 days to reclaim who you are. You have been able to push back against the caricatures, all the vile and ugly things, and be yourself. You gave America your heart and soul. You gave it your all.” I did. And I’m not done.

She had written that I inspired her. That morning, she returned the gift.