Trump left his beloved Trump Tower - his claim to fame - to live in a utterly dull vacation resort where the only thing to do is golf and where he's not even allowed to legally reside in year round at this old age because why? Heck, his latest pet wife didn't even want to leave NYC to live in the WHITE HOUSE!
But you're on to something: You know where else he doesn't live that isn't Florida? In any of those dust covered heaps of tumbleweed flyover states whose economies have been in a collective downward spiral since the War of Northern Aggression a sesquicentennial ago. Good gosh, not even FDR throwing away money to rebuild and rescue those dead end trailer park zones from themselves worked.
I get it. Walmart 'Culture' is a thing for yous, the highlight of what you call a life, selfies at aisle 4 to adorn your Facebook page. Centering your illustrious life around some tv hack you worship like a god is all you can do to try to elevate the abject dullness that is your every moment.
Me? I just found out round a decade ago that I used to walk past his house when I was a kid, roaming the neighborhood with a family friends who live there. Meet on Croydon Rd in Jamaica Estates and I'll show you it.
Why did I find out decades later, you ask? Because we didn't care. No big deal. The neighborhood is full of the well off, foreign dignitaries, celebrities, elitists, whatever.
This is NYC, after all.
I still live here, the center of Planet Earth,
He can't.
- And you never will be one of us - or him, despite your lovely corn syrup imbued jealousy.
cheers!