It wasn’t a truck, but a Trump, and he humiliated the media with his stunning victory over Hillary Rodham Clinton, who had been lulled into believing the election night story already written months before the election. Hillary would be the next President because America would NEVER elect Donald Trump.

They just did.

I have the tire tracks on my own back from the GOP primary, but it was never hard for me to give my full support to my party’s nominee. First, I signed a pledge that I would, and secondly, perhaps more than any other of the candidates, I knew what a Hillary Presidency would mean from my political battles in Arkansas against the Clinton machine they had built and used to wipe out any and all obstacles in their path.

Even in the hallowed halls of Fox News, there were so few of us who actually believed Trump would win that could have barely filled a small table at a diner. Most followed the conventional narrative that the polls were right and the people were wrong. I faced some smug, condescending looks and comments for saying the polls were not reflecting the movement Trump had created. I saw it in the primaries. I saw it in his rallies. I saw it in the faces and heard it in the voices of his stalwart supporters.

Two years ago, I released a book “God, Guns, Grits, and Gravy” that detailed what I was observing in the great divide between the people in the “bubbles” of New York, Washington, and Hollywood and the people living in “flyover country,” or as I coined it, the land of “God, Guns, Grits, and Gravy.” It was not geographical, nor racial, nor ethnic, nor gender based. It was the raw, seething anger felt by people whose lives were being devastated by policies and politics of the Ivy League educated ruling class who looked with derision and bewilderment at the millions whose jobs had disappeared or were paying less, whose pensions had been obliterated, and whose future appeared bleak and hopeless. The press largely snickered at my message and thought it overly simplistic. It was intentionally simplistic because it didn’t have to be complicated to explain what was happening in the lives of the working class. If the shell-shocked elites are now wondering how they missed it, I still recommend their reading the book. It really will lay it out for them.

Michael Moore (certainly not a Trump voter) accurately perceived that the American working class were about to deliver to the rulers a large middle finger. In the parlance of my youth, we’d say that the media and the political class got a big “butt kicking.”

It was time.

Donald Trump’s candidacy was disruptive to the major institutions of finance, politics, government, entertainment, and media. The real numbers being missed weren’t poll numbers but confidence numbers in the institutions of power. Respect for institutions are so deep in the toilet, it would take a plumber with a plunger to try and even retrieve them.

For me, a guilty pleasure was being vindicated as having recognized this breakdown between “Brooklyn and Branson” and understanding that Donald J. Trump had discovered the secret sauce to attract the people of middle American that were in a fit of rage at institutions they once trusted.

If you ignored or perhaps scoffed at the title or veracity of “God, Guns, Grits, and Gravy” you might go back and read it. It will help you understand what just happened when that Trump truck ran over you.

For more information about my book please click here.

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