I’m spending most of my day covering Donald Trump’s fundraiser in Dallas.

Trump is expected at a Hilton near the Galleria. At least, he should be. I hope so. Otherwise, all these police parked outside giving me the skunk eye must be dealing with something else. Reports of a guy wandering around taking pictures of the Hilton sign and the police cars, for instance.

Actually, the way these work when an event is not “open press” is reporters wander up to people as they leave to ask what Trump talked about.

If you ever want to get interviewed by a TV station, may I suggest showing up to a political event wearing a suit and tie and walk smartly up to the venue without making eye contact with the reporters. They’ll all come to you.

Then you can make up any number of thoughtful responses that end with you stopping yourself, looking directly at the camera and yelling, “Zeppelin rules!” Then walking away.

The day started with a press conference called by the Dallas County Democrats to explain that they, in fact, would not be supporting Donald Trump.

This took place at the Dallas Hillary for president headquarters which was in a small office complex. Reporters were guided to the office, handily enough, by those “I’m with her” signs with the arrows pointing us to the right office.

Before the press conference, I was chatting with a volunteer, who explained that if Trump won, he wouldn’t move to Canada; he’d move to Tahiti.

“Oooh, Tahiti,” I thought to myself. “Like a modern day Paul Gaugin.”

Actually, that played out as more of a “Oooh, Tahiti, like a modern day… who was that guy who moved to Tahiti? Hang on while I google it.”

But I need to talk about feelings. I feel ways about stuff…

I’ve given this retirement plan a lot of thought. And by “lot of thought,” I mean “sort of remembered that blog one night while I listened to Christopher Walken recite ‘The Raven‘ and was too terrified to sleep. I mean, my chamber door is just a few feet from the bed!”

So now, my plan is to retire from journalism and move to Tahiti. In fact, I’m preparing right now.

I just learned that the exchange rate for the dollar versus the CFP Franc is 106:1. Swish!

I would also learn, however, that the cost of living can be much higher in Tahiti. But to combat this, I swear, the French imposed price controls on baguettes.

I can totally see the French wanting to control the price of baguettes. Otherwise, the beret population would be at risk of famine. I imagine the US would do the same thing, putting price controls on Fribbles in Guam.

This relocation to Tahiti will really help me find myself. At least, find myself somewhere I’m not standing in the sun on a hot afternoon waiting for a motorcade to drive by.

Tahiti is apparently a leading producer of breadfruit. I don’t know what breadfruit is, but I’m sure if a scantily-clad Tahitian lady is feeding it to you while you lay in a hammock made from a giant leaf, it’s delicious.

Actually, I’ve just learned what breadfuit is. I can understand why Tahiti is shipping it out.

If anyone would like to book passage on the HMS Scaia, now’s your chance. I’ll fund my plan to live under a rock in Tahiti with breadfruit export money, so we’ll make return trips if you miss the first boat.