Wyn Drabbke says a "sentence" uttered by Donald Trump to comfort and reassure people was "meaningless". Photo / File
Looking back over several weeks of crisis, I find something still looming large in my memory.
It is a "sentence" uttered by Donald Trump to comfort and reassure people just when things were getting really bad. I quote it verbatim before launching into some not-too-weighty analysis of it.
"We areworking on treatments for this, you know it's bad, this virus, terrible, but the team is amazing, fantastic and the Vice-President, and it's bad, but we will make it through this war, it is a war, terrible, we are testing, tests, and I have order the FDA to removes blocks, there are blocks, lots of blocks for medicine, treatments, yes treatments soon, very soon."
The beginning establishes that a terrible virus is causing a crisis but as you read more you learn that there is testing and there are blocks. Then you read that the blocks are being removed so you can breathe a sigh of relief. That's sort of it in a nutshell.
I realise the virus itself is nothing to be flippant about but I don't believe I'm doing that. What I hope I'm doing is commenting on the speaking prowess of a man who has the right to sit in a leather swivel chair behind a grand desk on Air Force One.
I am reminded of a former (now deceased) secondary school teacher who used to become a little tongue-tied from time to time. Nearly 60 years have elapsed since his finest oeuvre and I still remember it word for word. It referred to a few boys up the back who were not yet focused on the upcoming lesson.
"This is possibly could be some of the start of the beginning of this particular type of folk who like doing things."
Only now do I realise that, based on oratorical skills, that teacher had the potential to become President of the United States of America but chose a humbler career, one without an aeroplane.
I am also reminded of Fred Dagg's 21st speech which highlighted the dangers of lack of preparation. He took three and a half embarrassing minutes to deliver the message, "Happy 21st, Trev!"
Along the way, we could cringe at such gems as, "Trev's gone from strength to strength. Strength to strength is more or less what Trev's gone from ... and to."
Fred could not manage big words such as "auspicious" either. He escaped his stumbles by opting for "bloody great big", which is probably marginally better than using the wrong word, something made famous by Richard Brinsley Sheridan's stage character, Mrs Malaprop.
Mrs Malaprop's gems included, "She's as headstrong as an allegory on the banks of the Nile." She meant "alligator". "She's the pineapple of politeness." She meant "pinnacle".
This also brings to mind a common modern mis-statement of an old proverb that both amuses and riles me. Why do people say, "The proof is in the pudding"? This makes no sense but the original does. "The proof of the pudding is in the eating" clearly means you have to try (or taste) something in order to be able to evaluate it.
I could ask Donald Trump to explain why people get that wrong but he'd probably just tell me there are "lots of blocks". Or "treatments".