It was a beautiful sunny day in Los Angeles. It was Spring Break, Easter Weekend and the Coachella festival was in full swing, but that did not discourage thousands upon thousands of Angelenos from gathering at Pershing Square in Downtown Los Angeles and marching to City Hall to call out Trump to release his damn tax returns. We all knew this was coming.
Tax March LA ran from 11am to 2pm. I showed up a little after 12pm.
My ass lagged because my ass was soooo not in the mood. This makes the sixth anti-Trump demonstration I have attended. And I have missed almost as many in Los Angeles, if not more since Russia sealed Trump’s presidency around four months ago.
This also makes the fourth protest I attend by myself, which kind of sucks. I hate asking strangers to take my photo, I’d rather go alone than not go at all.
This was an important demonstration. The message was clear. The American people want transparency. The most dim-witted Trump supporter has to be at least a tiny bit curious about what’s in those tax returns.
The people want to know: Is he worth billions or millions? How deep in the shit is he with Russia? We know he’s in deep, but how deep? What about his businesses in Middle Eastern countries? Who is he in bed with? How much of his money goes charity, if any? Does he even pay taxes?
So many questions with zero answers. We need to follow the money and the map to the money is in those damn tax returns. It’s so obvious. What is he hiding?
The Tax March Los Angeles was nowhere near is big as the Women’s March, but nothing can take away the taste of complete satisfaction when we all chanted, “Lock him up! Lock him up! Lock him up!”
It was truly poetic. I salivate just thinking about it.
The people knew the kind of man they were egging on. The protest saw many forms of chickens with Orange Trump toupees that were bound to piss him off.
And of course he took the bait. He could not resist tweeting about it the very next day.
Meanwhile, the crowds at the Tax Marches across the country were larger than his lousy inauguration.
That man loves to lie to his base. We don’t get paid to protest. Quite the opposite. Anti-Trump protests costs the people money. It can be costly to park in DTLA (upwards of $20). Construction paper, poster boards, orange acrylic paint, glitter, magic markers, poles, printing services and whatever else goes into our signage—all that shit costs money. #Resist t-shirts, busted Trump piñatas, blowup Trump Chickens, scary-looking Trump masks and clown costumes… they don’t just hand those out on the street for free. We don’t get paid. It’s money out of our own pockets and we’ve done it numerous times by the hundreds of thousands.
Then we take into account the time and energy it takes to come up with the right FUCK TRUMP message to take to the streets.
Speakers included U.S. Reps. Ted Lieu, Brad Sherman, State Sen. Mike McGuire and County Supervisor Sheila Kueh. I was there when Justine Bateman took the stage. I also witnessd Los Angeles Councilmember David Ryu, get greeting like a rock star when he spoke towards the end.
I didn’t want to go at first. My ass lagged, but I’m glad I went and took part in something much bigger than myself. Let’s keep resisting, marching, protesting and posting photos to let the administration know that we will not grow weary.
It’s also nice to be part of something YUGE that irritates the fuck out of him.
Next stop: #ResistMarch from Hollywood and Highland to Santa Monica and San Vicente on June 11 for LA Pride. That one is mandatory. I’m making phone calls and I’m taking names. I’ll be damn straight to HELL, but I’m not going to #ResistMarch alone. Get ready bitches. It’s so happening.
Check out resistmarch.org/ for details.