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I really do want to forgive and forget the Trumpers, bury the hatchet, let bygones be bygones, kiss and make up, turn the other cheek, smoke the peace pipe, wipe the slate clean and hold out the olive branch.

But I just can’t do it and I would sooner dance with and then French kiss a cobra while walking on white hot coals without shoes or even socks and be damned to a lifetime of Abba and Archie Bell and the Drells songs.

I can’t bring myself to say to the Trumper who wanted to reelect a wannabe totalitarian that it’s OK; I can’t say to the Trumper who found nothing wrong with denying the seriousness of the pandemic, costing thousands of lives, that it’s OK; I can’t say to the Trumper who found nothing wrong with the racist, sexist, xenophobic, hateful words that it’s OK; and I can’t say to the Trumper who found nothing wrong with the cold, calculated lies spewing constantly from the FORMER president’s mouth like a broken sewer pipe, that it’s OK.

So how do we find a roadmap to start fresh and actually to welcome those in that we wanted to die violent (metaphorical) deaths just a week ago. Well we can welcome all but there will have to be caveats, stipulations or provisos because as they say, to the victors go the spoils and the winners get to write the history and make the rules.

Caveats that could be educational and putative at the same time, could include all of the following and any more that are deemed appropriate: All former Trumpers must agree to take a collective knee during all professional sports contests; all must spend three weeks with an all-transgender crowd; all must wear masks at all times, including while sleeping and using the lavatory; all must read Hillary Clinton’s autobiography 10 times and file written reports on the book that nobody has apparently read; all must agree to replace all of their guns, rifles and other weapons with containers of marshmallow; all must listen without responding to hours and hours and hours of replays of so-called news conferences led by Sean Spicer, Sarah Huckabee Sanders, Stephanie Grisham and Kayleigh McEnany; and all will have to listen to Donald Trump Jr.’s whining pumped up to 85 decibels while bees congregate on the honey smeared upon your body.

I am not overly confident that all or even a majority of the overly reasonable caveats will be accepted and in that case, we will carry on without access to the utter lack of wisdom, humanity and intelligence that was shown by the Trump camp throughout the campaign. That’s OK because that’s the way the cookie crumbles, tough noogies and you can stuff those Trumpers where the sun doesn’t shine.

So to use a phrase once made famous by a former hopeful dictator, we can drain the swamp and flush the toilet of all that is poo.

But I do understand why so many Republican leaders and I use that word in a loose way not to be taken literally, are not ready to accept that Biden won and Bone Spurs was kicked out. It all has to do with their rejection of science and so they refuse to believe what they read on the Internet and would rather rely on tried and true methods of communication like semaphores, homing pigeons and ancient scribes providing news sometime in the distant future.

Before the big changes in communication in the 19th century, news eventually circulated, even if it took a while.

For instance, the Battle of Trafalgar was fought on Oct. 21, 1805, between the British and the combined French and Spanish fleets off the coast of Spain. But the world didn’t find out until two weeks later when the battle was reported in the London Gazette.

The French invaded Russia on June 24, 1812, (think Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture) but the invasion wasn’t confirmed until three weeks later by several sources and published in The Times on July 13, 1812.

And gold was discovered in California in January 1848 but the gold rush wouldn’t start for another eight months when the discovery was reported in the N.Y. Times.

The same stubborn Republicans also are waiting for official confirmation about Lincoln’s assassination.

And now for a light diversion that has absolutely nothing to do with the rest of the blog, here are some of the strangest named public officials:

Newt Gingrich, the former House Speaker; Tom Sawyer, the Kansas House minority leader; Ben Bushyhead, who ran for county commissioner in North Carolina; Dick Swett, former House representative from New Hampshire; Young Boozer, former state treasurer of Alabama; Twinkle Andress Cavanaugh, former president of the Alabama Public Service Commission; and of course, that Arizona precinct committeeman with the most unfortunate name, Frank Schmuck.