Back in the bad old Obama days, I was staying in a hotel in New York one time, and a young man got on the elevator with me. He was clearly a hard-charging Wall Street type, and he did not look happy. Before the door slid closed, I saw on the TV in the lobby bar that the president was speaking.
The Wall Street type said words to this effect: “Every time that guy Obama opens his mouth, the market drops. I’m not against the man. I like him. I voted for him. But he’s just depressing – and he has to tell everyone all his deep thoughts all the time.” He then pretended to address the president, muttering, “I get it. You’re a smart guy. Now shut up.”
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