The ’80s, Aspen and Donald Trump
For Aspenites lucky enough to have lived here from the ’70s and beyond, we shouldn’t be surprised by what the “idiot in chief” has brought to steps of the U.S. Capitol.
In 1980, thereabouts, Donald Trump and the family groan descended on the brand-newly opened Caribou Club; Harley Baldwin at the helm. I, as many, cared less who Trump was.
The only comedic aspect, appreciated by all, was Harley trying to “ride herd” on his employees, and closer friends, to help him keep Trump’s wife in a different Caribou lounge than Ms. Maples. It was a real juggling act never forgotten.
But I digress. The purpose of my letter is to remind and point out that old(er) Aspenites could already have seen the writing on the wall when Trump had his private (rented) Boeing 727 land in Grand Junction, whereupon he and his entourage de-planed, and then insisted that the pilots then fly onto Aspen’s airport, (much smaller than today’s) solely for the braggadocio associated with the tail fin of the 727 nearly hanging over Highway 82 ablaze with TRUMP scrolling down the vertical stabilizer. Who gave a rat’s tail-end?
And to close, my opinion doesn’t come from “out-of-the-blue” via someone who, like most of America and the world, sees this fool for what he is: an embarrassment of epic proportions and so engulfed in his own “megalomania” he’s willing to risk anyone’s life but his to feed his insatiable childhood “me, me, me” ego.
Moving on.
My father was a U.S. naval aviator of true epic proportions, all before I was born, so bear with me. He served as CAG (look it up) on a long-forgotten aircraft carrier during the Korean conflict; third most important person on the boat. Had movies and books written about him. See “Miracle Landing Off Korea at History.Net, a test-pilot for Chance-Vought with the F-8 Crusader. And, the icing on the proverbial cake, a U.S. Navy Blue Angel; tw tours in the ’50’s as “Number Two” in formation.
When he says Trump’s an unconscionable fool, you can take that to the bank.
Scott Crow
Aspen