Black Canyon of the Gunnison
Donald sits on a ledge at Black Canyon of the Gunnison. There’s an eagle perched there.
When the eagle looks at Donald, Donald looks back and says: “Tremendous.” He really knows lots of better, bigger words, but he considers this a laminate word that includes all of those other words. He knows the word “laminate” for example and that the rock is “Precambrian.”
It’s been a long day backcountry camping and Donald is alone. That morning he baked a cinnamon roll in an orange peel over the campfire, which is a fantastic trick he knows. (Everyone agrees it’s fantastic.) That’s what he had for breakfast.
“This is the greatest moment of my life,” he says into the canyon. “I’m a good person.”
Donald has let his hair go gray and dresses in T-shirts and slacks. He can do a funny javelina impression, taking mincing steps and letting his hair flop while snorting. This is a great ice breaker when he leads expeditions into the wilderness with troubled teens.
Everyone loves him. They really do, because he’s funny and believes in other people. But more importantly, he loves himself. “If I were president of the United States, the first thing I’d do is secure the status of our national parks forever,” he says. “But I’m not the president, and that’s a fact.”
Donald stops dreaming and starts contemplating.
That’s something else he’s good at.
Halfway House for Troubled Teens
Donald can pour pancake batter in the shape of any of the world’s 196 countries to order.
Romania? You got it. Italy? no problem. Somalia? Well that’s a bit of a problem, but he’ll do it. Indonesia? Fine, but you’re gonna get murdered by the people behind you in line.
It’s totally true that Donald knows the shape of every country in the world. He takes it upon himself to know these things because he wants to be a good pancake artist when he visits the halfway house for troubled teens where he works.
One kid whose trust he hasn’t yet earned orders a pancake of Sudan.
“Sudan or South Sudan?” asks Donald.
The kid changes his mind and orders a pancake in the shape of Goli Otok.
“I don’t do Communist-era Croatian prisons,” Donald says.
And just like that Donald has made another new friend.
Donald Hates Twitter
Donald is practicing giving a thumbs up. Why? Because people love it. People love when he sticks out his bottom lip and flips up his thumbs like little toadstools.
He likes to his imagine his thumbs as toadstools because he cherishes woodlands and misses them when he’s working in the inner city at the halfway house for troubled teens.
The troubled teens post pictures of Donald and his exemplary thumbs-up on Instagram and Twitter.
“Stop being addicted to social media!” Donald tells the kids. And he means it.
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