Donald Trump. I told you so.

Donald Trump is the Republican nominee for President.

Kind of hard to believe. Right?

I am not a Republican, nor I am pleased by this harrowing turn of events, but back in February, I predicted this outcome. I explained to friends that there were too many Republican candidates and no clear frontrunner, so the one with the most notoriety was likely to win.

I saw Trump as being that guy. 

I also saw Trump getting free air time on all the major cable news networks. Even MSNBC was covering his every move. 

That sealed the deal for me. 

Most people disagreed with this opinion. A few folks scoffed. But two of my friends told me that I was stupid. An idiot. A moron. They disparaged my intellect and my common sense. For those who chose to express their disagreement with aggressive, verbal abuse, I added them to my "I told you so" calendar and set the date for Friday, July 22, 2016.

Turns out I miscalculated by three days. 

So today I will send out two emails, reminding my friends of their so-easily-produced insults back in February and letting them know that their words had not been forgotten and they were wrong. 

In each email, I will write, "I told you so."

Petty? I don't think so. We allow people to dismiss, disregard, and marginalize our ideas, opinions, and predictions all the time because they enjoy the safety and security of time. They get to call you an idiot or a buffoon because they have a six month buffer from being proven wrong, so they assume almost no risk. Say something rotten today because it will probably be forgotten tomorrow.

It's name-calling and intellectual bravado without any stakes. 

Except, that is, when you're dealing with someone like me with an "I told you so" calendar.

If you disagreed with my on the Trump nomination civilly, no problem. 

If you thought my prediction was ludicrous and expressed as much without berating or insulting me, no worries.

Disagreements are normal in this world. 

But when you call someone names and insult their intelligence because you think that you're right and know there are months of buffering before the outcome, during which time the target of your barbs is likely to forget your unkind words, this is not okay with me.

I will be waiting. Biding my time. Counting the days.  

Two pleasure-filled emails will be sent off today.

I'm worried about our country and frankly saddened for many of my Republican friends, who I know are feeling lost right now with the direction their party has turned, but at least I can take solace in these four beautiful words today:

I told you so.

The "I told you so" calendar. Armed and ready for 2035. I can't recommend it highly enough.

For those of you who are unaware, I maintain an "I told you so" calendar as one of my many Google calendars. I can't recommend it more highly. 

Let me explain. 

It has long frustrated me that people are capable of making ridiculous claims about the future with little or no fear that those claims will ever come back to bite them. Make some nonsense assertion about the stock market over the next two years or predict the next President with absolute certainty, and typically, by the time these predicted moments actually arrive, the comment has been forgotten and the inaccuracy remains unacknowledged forever.

It places unfair and unearned power in the moment while not accounting for longterm results. 

Politicians do this all the time. It's why so many of them suck. They make ridiculous prognostications and impossible promises, knowing full well that they will rarely be held accountable. 

Not any more.

With the use of the "I told you so" calendar, ridiculous, baseless, mindless claims can be fact- checked when the moment arrives, and the perpetrators of this nonsense can finally feel the sting of being held accountable for their deception and stupidity. No longer will people spout off about the future with impunity. I am now armed and ready to call them to the carpet when when the time is right.

This may seem petty to you, but as a person who takes argumentation and debate seriously, there is nothing more frustrating than someone predicting an improbable and wholly unsupported future as an integral part of their argument without some form of future recourse.   

I also think that the four best words in the English language are “I told you so.” People scoff at the assertion, but I have yet to hear four words that are better.

My "I told you so" calendar is littered with items:

  • Unlikely sports predictions made by irrational fans of opposing teams
  • Assertions related to parenting that I can't wait to prove wrong
  • Political forecasts that will undoubtedly never happen
  • Job-related predictions that are made with little foresight or perspective

And when these things don't happen, I will be there, anxiously waiting to say, "I told you so."

My favorite item to come to fruition thus far was the assertion of three different friends that one or more of my children would end up sleeping in my bed for more than the occasional middle-of-the-night nightmare. These are friends who had children in their bed for years - a practice I have always found inexplicable and inadvisable - but these friends assured me that regardless of my belief, it was also unavoidable. 

On my daughter's third birthday, I called these three friends and informed them that my daughter had never spent the night sleeping in our bed.

When my son turned three, I called them again, informing them that my son had spent a total of two nights in our bed, both times as a result of illness.

"I told you so," I said. And it felt so good.

Last week I added an item to the "I told you so" calendar" for 2035, surpassing the entry about my father-in-law's prediction that the NFL will cease to exist by 2030. While one of my students was stating her hypothesis about what type of person dreams more for her upcoming science fair project, she said that "little kids" probably dream more since "your life is practically over when you're 30."

I pushed back on the idea that life was essentially over at 30, but she held fast to this belief. 

I'll be contacting this young lady in March of 2035 - on her 30th birthday - to inquire about the state of her life and to utter those four perfect words:

I told you so. 

I can't wait.