October — The Bill Comes Due

When “Could They?” Becomes “What Does It Cost?”

I’m lucky enough to have a friend who will stop his day once in a while so we can walk the neighborhood and solve the problems of the world.

Sometimes those problems are small — a washing machine that didn’t get fixed properly, a service call that cost more than promised, a contractor who didn’t quite do the job they said they would. We walk, we wave to neighbors, we greet dogs, and we argue about whether we got our money’s worth.

We’ve been doing this long enough that we can reference old conversations. Long enough to nod quietly when one of us has to admit the other read the tea leaves better. Most of the time, it’s light. Practical. Grounded.

Politics used to be like that too.

At first, we only talked about it when something big happened. Would Trump get convicted? Was Joe Biden too old? What would it mean if a bill passed? We tried to stick to facts, with a little humor to keep it human.

But somewhere along the way, the conversations changed.

Now, most of our walk is spent talking about the state of the country — how we got here, and why the self-correction mechanisms our founders built into the system haven’t kicked in.

Our discussions are still based on what we can see. We challenge each other. We pull each other back when one of us drifts too far into speculation. We’re not naïve. We know power attracts bad actors. For every Superman, there’s a Lex Luthor. For every saint, a sinner. That’s not a revelation — it’s human nature.

The trick has always been putting the good ones — or at least the good enough ones — in charge.

We understood Joe Biden was aging. We understood Trump was convicted of felonies. We understood there was no significant voter fraud. We also understood that whenever power is handed over, it can be abused.

Where we were wrong was speed.

We assumed Congress would check the executive branch. We assumed the courts would move fast enough to matter. We assumed norms would slow things down.

We didn’t account for what happens when someone moves faster than the system — ignores the rules, bypasses the guardrails, and lets the consequences lag months behind the actions.

At first, we debated whether they could do it.

Then we watched them do it.

Then the question became: what does it mean that they did?

What we didn’t fully grasp was that this wasn’t improvisation. There was a playbook. Messaging strategies. Loyalists willing to support the outcome at any cost. The first term ended in defeat and embarrassment. The second would be different. This time, whatever happened would be justified — as long as it never felt like that again.

Who they are is still unclear. One man? A movement? A coalition behind the scenes? No matter how far we walk, we don’t quite land on an answer.

But by October, that question almost stops mattering.

Because October is when the bill comes due.

Just like with the washing machine or the contractor, we’re no longer arguing about intentions. We’re talking about cost. About quality. About whether the service we were promised is the service we’re getting — and what happens when it isn’t.

Once again, my neighbor and I find ourselves asking the same question we always do at the end of our walks:

Did we get what we paid for?

And if not — who’s going to be held accountable?