There’s a phrase people sometimes use when they want to insult somebody—say, for example, me—who spends too much time thinking about and discussing somebody else—say, for example, Donald Trump: “You’re letting Trump live rent-free in your head.”

I hate that.

The insult stings because it happens to be true. I really do spend an inordinate amount of time thinking/reading/writing about our previous president.

That wasn’t always the case. Years ago, in fact, I was at some New York City event or other when I noticed Trump saunter up and start chatting with Ice-T. At the time, Trump was just a tacky jerk who made the NYC party rounds. Don’t ask me what they talked about because I didn’t even care enough to eavesdrop. The only reason I even remember the occasion is because I once found the surreptitious photo I took of the two to commemorate the weirdness of that pairing. (A photo which I have had no success in locating to accompany this piece.)

Through The Apprentice years, I had no thoughts of Trump whatsoever. If he occupied any portion of my mind, I devoted about the same square footage to him as I did for the old candy Bit O’ Honey. Not........

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