A Ouija Board could’ve picked better nominees than Trump’s would-be cabinet. 

While electronics may have been the most popular gifts underneath America’s Christmas trees this year, kids of the ‘40s and ‘50s were pretty much stuck with pocket knives, erector sets, dolls and Easy-Bake Ovens.

But there was one gift that sticks out in my mind. It came in a box the shape of a typical board game, but it was nothing like any other.

All the way back in 1886, there were newspaper reports of a “talking board” phenomenon in Ohio spiritualist camps. Imprinted with all the letters of the alphabet, a “yes” and a “no and the numbers 1 through 10, the board was accompanied by a planchette-like pointing device and it was claimed to be useful in communicating with the dead.

Voila! American capitalism seized upon the idea. By 1890, Charles Kennard and Elijah Bond had formed the Kennard Novelty Company, and the Ouija Board became an instant commercial success. It used no batteries, had no bells and whistles, and was nothing exceptional to look at, but a fascination for the occult drove its sales.

Ouija Boards became the final, wee-morning-hours entertainment for partygoers, who hoped the spirts of the dead would communicate, by guiding the movement of the pointer. Even many of the most dubious players became believers.

As a teenager, three of my friends and I gave the Ouija Board a try. As the “Doubting Thomas” of the group, I knew how ridiculous it was. And yet, what happened was pretty compelling. There in that darkened dining room, the spirits were trying to communicate.

Joe asked, “Have you been dead for over 100 years?” and the pointer instantly sought the “yes.” I asked, “Did anyone push the pointer?” Everyone answered, “No,” and the color drained from our faces. We were overcome by terror, and I’m sure the neighbors heard our in-unison scream.

As much as I dislike Donald Trump, I decided to send him a Christmas present. You guessed it—a Ouija Board. I figured that it could help him to make better picks in his ongoing round of cabinet and departmental appointments. After the disaster with the Gaetz and Hegseth nominations, it was obvious that a Ouija Board could have done far better.

We have to hand it to Trump: There’s certainly nothing conventional about him or about the way he’s proceeding in assembling the team that will lead our country’s departments, courts, immigration, diplomacy, law enforcement and business regulation for the next four years.

It’s safe to say that his “unconventionality” was the reason why a fair number of Americans decided that he was going to be their man. It didn’t matter that he was a low-class, serial liar and dim-witted super-failure. All those people could think of was that their candidate could somehow—by waving his magic scepter—undo both the mistakes of a string of presidents before him and his own mistakes from his first chaotic term.

True; it’s not a very good case for believing in a man whose own first-term cabinet picks assessed him as “… the worst president in our history,” “… the most vulgar person to ever aspire to the presidency,” and “… a person that has no ideas of any substance.”

But Americans voted for him anyway, and who could really blame them? The financial plight of poor and middle-class Americans was worsening. Inflation had far outpaced decades of pathetic wage increases. And every indicator was suggesting that the heightened level of corporate greed and gouging responsible for the mess was going to continue, ad infinitum.

While unconventionality may sometimes create the refreshing aroma of healthy change, Trump’s latest choices of key administration players reek of an unusually rank morning dump—one that no quantity of air freshener can fix. Not only are Trump’s designees dismally unqualified for their particular assignments, virtually all of them have the stink of nepotistic favor.

Appointing family members and in-laws is a dead giveaway. But the practice of selling indulgences—the no-no which triggered Martin Luther’s split from the Catholic Church—is also part of the story. Virtually every billionaire donor to Trump’s campaign has bought themselves a guaranteed spot in Trump Heaven and, historically speaking, there’s no doubt about it: Purchasing positions of great power has been a significant part of world history.

To mention a few: Trump's picks for the heads of Treasury, Interior, Education, Commerce and NASA are all billionaires who, collectively, contributed hundreds of millions to the Trump campaign. And guess what? It’s party-time!

Though many of them are known for their philanthropy, every one of them believes that their soon-to-be-bestowed power will allow them to manipulate the government to create greater wealth for themselves—all at the expense of other Americans. Billionaires are looking out for “number one.”

Then there’s the strange case of Elon Musk, who may be seen by much of our citizenry as the real winner of the 2024 election. In the end, he bought and paid for a Trump win and may well prevail as the de facto head of our country. In both the areas of wealth and brains, he’s in the process of pulling off his own kind of coup, simply by presenting a striking contrast: hundreds-of-times Trump’s wealth, he makes the president-elect look like a pauper and, with an actual off-the-charts I.Q., he makes Trump look even dumber than he is.

It's worth noting that the glaring disparity between Trump and his appointee buddy, Musk, will likely end in bloodshed. Considering Trump’s glaring insecurities and inferiority complex, Musk could put to the test whether a sitting president can really get away with murdering someone on 5th Avenue. Then again, it might not be a traditional murder—just an Executive Order permanently outlawing all electric vehicles from U.S. public thoroughfares. Oops, bye-bye Musk.

Frankly, Trump’s rush to fill the roster of cronies is more than just another exciting episode of the award-winning “I, Trump” TV series. Unlike the Donald’s never-ending wars to bury his offensive behavior and escape prosecutions, the appointment phase of his yet-to-be new reign affects us all, and it’s downright scary. We should all be quivering.

But there’s now hope in sight. Trump, who’s already sent me a warm thank-you note, has already begun using his new Ouija Board. There’s a chance, a very slim chance, that John Adams and JFK will break their long silence to help him in making better future choices.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

The author is a retired businessman, novelist, columnist and former Vietnam-era Army assistant public information officer. He resides in Riverton with his wife, Carol, and their adorable and ferocious dog “Poppy.”