Biden his time?

Most nights I watch Stephen Colbert’s monologue and last night was no exception. I was looking forward to his take on the Roy Moore scandal in Alabama. He did not disappoint.

Unlike most nights, I kept watching because his guests were Joe Biden and Elton John.

It isn’t easy to look back at 2016 and not think about a Biden versus Trump election campaign. I’m pretty sure Biden would have won. I’m equally sure that Biden was told in no uncertain terms when he agreed to serve as Vice President that, when Obama’s term was over, it was Hillary’s turn – whether he liked it or not.

Let’s be honest. He was pretty gaffe-prone when he was Vice-President, but that’s the very reason people like him, isn’t it? (As I tried to explain to the Labour Party after Ed Miliband lost to David Cameron, they were never going to win with posh boy Tory-lite. Labour needed a leader people could imagine having a pint with in their local. I even offered myself for the job, although withdrew after Jeremy Corbyn threw his hat in the ring.) Biden also forced Obama’s hand on same sex marriage rights, which alone makes him an incredibly stand up guy.

Of course Colbert asked him outright if he was planning to run in 2020 and of course Biden dodged answering the question. Although he did suggest it was time for the old timers to make way for the young up and comers. (Who? Who are they, Joe? Corey Booker and who? Where are they?) The only people I’m pretty sure are planning a run are Elizabeth Warren (and why not?) and Al Franken (who’s good enough and smart enough and doggone it people like him). Wouldn’t that be fun? But, punch for punch, I’m pretty sure Biden could wipe the floor with Trump. And wouldn’t that be fun?

This is the full interview, which is about 25 minutes in length. Worth the watch, if you’ve got the time.

I like a lot of Elton John’s music, but I can’t say the same for the man. The only reason I kept the television on after Biden’s interview was hearing that Elton John was going to perform two songs. “Oh, please!” I thought, clapping my hands together in anticipation.

Twenty years ago, the morning after Diana died, I woke up to find the lyrics of Candle in the Wind going through my head. I’m sure I wasn’t alone. Unfortunately Elton John also thought of these lyrics. Then he and Bernie Taupin sat down and penned some sickly sweet alternate lyrics and quickly released Goodbye England’s Rose. I know the single sold gazillions of copies, but really? Wasn’t the woman’s death already enough of a spectacle?

Still, perhaps now was the time for Reggie and Bernie to make amends. Perhaps they’d got together and rewritten the lyrics to Rocket Man to take the piss out of Trump. And perhaps they were going to produce another new song: Tiny Hands, Sir. Now that would be fantastic.

No such luck. Crocodile Rock and I don’t even remember what the other song was. He really was just there to promote his new greatest hits box set. Oh, Reggie, you do disappoint. (Does he genuinely have no sense of humour and fun or, given that he regularly plays shows in Vegas, did he not want to offend his Trump-supporting fans? I wonder if he’d give someone else permission? Nah. He really is a humourless bugger.)

I didn’t get the ear to ear grin for which I was hoping while watching Elton John’s performance, but I did have one this morning when I saw this, posted by a mate on Facebook.

Music (better than Elton John’s) to my ears. Yes, Frank Schaeffer is only one man and yes he’s turned his back on hard core evangelical Christianity, but unlike us urban elite folk, he does speak the language of Trump supporters. Maybe he can help some of them see that the emperor really doesn’t have any clothes on. (And it’s not a pretty sight.)

We’ll have a good hint of things to come next month when the voters of Alabama go to the polls to choose between (a)  the man who successfully prosecuted, forty years after the fact, two of the KKK members responsible for the 1963 church bombing that killed four young black girls or (b) a gun-toting, bible-thumping paedophile. I’d say the choice was a no-brainer, but, hey, this is Alabama, y’all. You just can’t predict.