Donald Trump went to San Antonio this week to help elect a Republican senator and warn the people of Texas about what would happen if Democrats won. There would be misery, poverty, homelessness, and, in a development that deserves its own congressional hearing, dirty doorknobs.
“The doorknobs going into stores are dirty,” he told the crowd.
I’m sorry, the doorknobs? Of all the things he could have selected from the vast inventory of American decline, he stopped at the little thing you turn to get inside Walgreens. Somewhere between economic collapse and the destruction of Texas, the president became concerned that someone had entered a business with jam on their hands.
“Everything becomes dirty and has a bad smell,” he continued, which does help clarify the Republican platform. Democrats want to ruin your state through a coordinated campaign of odors and questionable surfaces. You may think you’re voting for a senator, but you are actually deciding whether the entrance to the hardware store will feel a little sticky.
As a mother, I appreciate a political argument that can be settled with a damp cloth. Usually the problems coming out of Washington require lawyers, public pressure, and several years of litigation. This one sounds like something I could handle while waiting for the pasta water to boil.
Although I would need to know whether the doorknob was dirty before the election or became dirty afterward. We should establish a baseline. Otherwise, a Republican could leave peanut butter on a handle in October and spend the next six years blaming the Democrats who inherited it. This is why we need independent inspections.
The specificity is what makes it so wonderful. A person can stand at a podium and say the country is going to hell, and everyone understands that we’ve entered the usual campaign exaggeration. But when he starts discussing the doorknobs going into stores, I have questions about his afternoon. Did he touch something? Was it unpleasant? Did someone explain that other people use doors?
Perhaps an aide handed him a wipe and he said, “Who did this?” and the aide, hoping to get through the rest of the day, whispered, “The Democrats, sir.”
Now it’s a Senate issue. I’m imagining the campaign ads. A woman approaches a shop, reaches for the handle, then recoils as ominous music begins. Under James Talarico, this could be your hand. Ken Paxton appears holding a tub of disinfecting wipes, prepared to restore confidence in the entryway.
There could be a hotline. Concerned citizens could report suspicious residue, with a separate extension for smells. Businesses would receive a certificate declaring their handles constitutionally clean, and anyone installing an automatic door would immediately be investigated for avoiding oversight.
The poor doorknob, meanwhile, has spent its entire life doing exactly what we asked of it. It has admitted customers, endured toddlers, and accepted the hands of people who absolutely should’ve washed them. It’s never expressed an opinion about tax policy. Now the president is using it to explain why Texas must remain Republican, and it can’t even leave because it’s attached to the building.
Beneath all this is a familiar demand: imagine that everyone on the other side is so inherently filthy that their election would contaminate the things around you. He has simply carried that argument all the way down to the hardware.
There are serious questions voters could be asking about what government owes them and whether the people seeking office can deliver it. Trump has offered a much easier examination. Look around. Sniff something. Touch the door. If it feels strange, a Democrat may be nearby.
I do hope someone checks the podium afterward. Thousands of people heard that speech, and we have no idea what it left on the microphone.




Love this essay, Shanley! It’s so true!
Thank you. You usually make me smile but you milked this one the whole way to a belly laugh. I needed that.