By John Q. Hosedrinker 
President Trump seemed to forget the name of María Corina Machado, who had given him her Nobel Peace Prize just hours before. While Trump praised her, he didn’t mention her name when asked about supporting her bid for Venezuelan leadership. The move came after Machado, leader of the Venezuelan opposition, offered her prize to Trump, who was ineligible for the award, as a way to appease him. Despite the transfer, the Nobel Committee clarified that the original award still stands, and the action has no official bearing.
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Trump, 79, appears to forget the name of the woman who just gave him her Nobel Peace Prize. This, folks, is where we find ourselves. It’s a situation that speaks volumes, not just about memory and aging, but about priorities and, let’s be frank, a certain level of self-absorption. It’s almost too easy to imagine the scene: the handshake, the exchange, the flash of the cameras, and then… well, nothing. No recollection. Just a blank.
Of course, the immediate question that pops into the mind isn’t really *if* he forgot, but *why* would he remember? Let’s face it, for someone like this, the woman in question was likely a means to an end. She was the one delivering the prize, the object he seemingly craved. Once the transaction was complete, her relevance probably plummeted faster than a lead balloon. It’s almost as if her name was as disposable as a used coffee cup, serving its purpose and then discarded.
It’s not that he’s “old,” although, at 79, it’s certainly a factor. It’s more about where his focus lies. He is focused on himself, and anything that isn’t directly related to him doesn’t hold much weight. The Nobel Prize itself may have been more about satisfying his ego. It’s not about the merit, it’s about being on par with those he considers rivals.
The behavior is consistent with the character. The man who would name himself chairman of a center and load the board with yes-men to give him an award and plaster his name everywhere, so he can feel important. It’s all about the perceived validation and the projection of greatness. When the driving force is ego and vanity, the names and faces of others become irrelevant.
He’s not unique in this; we’ve all met people who seem to compartmentalize their interactions. But with this situation, it takes a whole new level. Why would he need to remember a name when the only thing that mattered was the prize itself? The whole scenario practically writes itself. “And when the committee gave me the award, I didn’t even want it, but they insisted…” It’s a classic tale, and we can all see it playing out.
And, if you’re being honest with yourself, did he ever know the name to begin with? It’s more likely he glanced at a card or read a script just long enough to get through the formalities. Afterward, she became simply a means to an end, a giver of a trophy, nothing more.
There’s the underlying thought too, that this situation will be a topic of discussion at his funeral. People will wonder how something that might have seemed so obvious to everyone else wasn’t recognized by people at the time. “When did you know? How could you not have known? Why didn’t you say something? Why did you lie to the American people?” These are questions that might get asked.
In his world, everyone is a “honey,” “baby,” or simply “hey you.” Names are for people who matter. And let’s be clear: in his worldview, the only person who truly matters is him. Everything else is simply a pawn.
There’s also the cold reality of the situation. Some people believe that someone has sold their soul to give the award. That the immediate gratification of the prize will be swiftly overshadowed by the consequences of the deal.
The immediate reaction, is it even worth it to give an award to someone who clearly doesn’t care? The point is, he may very well never have cared to begin with. It’s not about forgetting; it’s about not giving a damn in the first place.
Some people feel there will be Congressional hearings when he inevitably dies in his sleep because his brain forgot how to swallow his own spit.
It highlights a larger truth: Narcissism has no interest in others. They are simply things. The medals given to him may very well be returned, because the sentiment that made the medals important is missing in the man.
Ultimately, it doesn’t really matter whether he forgot or never knew. The outcome is the same. The woman, her name, her motivations – all reduced to a footnote in a larger, self-serving narrative. It’s a sad commentary on a transaction and its participants, all brought about by an outsized ego.