It starts with one of us saying, “I’m not going to talk about it,” and then a little tendril, a phrase, and you’re in the Trump jungle. Medicare. Deportations. Sessions. Bannon. The affronts come so fast and thick there seems to be no adequate defense. How to respond? Jennifer, my accordion teacher, gives me the sheet music of “This Land is Your Land” saying that at some point we’re going to have to march and when we do she’s bringing her accordion and she’ll expect me to bring mine. Bring down the Orange Crush with my arrhythmia. But it sounds like the best idea I’ve heard so far, the accordion revolution. Everyone who has one show up and step to it. What do you suppose the fireeaters would make of that? Would they polka along?