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"When I stand here today, about to take the Oath of Office, the flags at half-staff remind me of the long line of presidents. In particular, I am reminded of President Jimmy Carter, a man of honor, compassion and duty, a veteran, a man of deep faith, a fighter for human rights, a man who loved one woman his whole adult life, and a man who helped build houses for those who had no place to live.

"The presidency marks those who hold the office, and no one bore the brand more gracefully than Jimmy Carter. I am proud to take the Oath of Office surrounded by the flags of a country in mourning for a great man."

Sure. That's what President-elect Donald Trump could say. He wouldn't even have to mean it; he'd just have to say the words. That he knows how to do.

It wouldn't take long to say. There'd still be plenty of room in the speech for bragging and threatening and complaining.

It wasn't even hard to write. Probably took me 10 minutes. And if it doesn't sound like John. F. Kennedy, then it at least sounds better than Trump's wet diaper squall of anger when he thought the flags might be at half-staff during Inaugapalooza.

I've written before that the flag itself doesn't mean anything. What means something is what you do under the flag, or because of the flag, or what you cover with the flag.

If you own a business, and you knowingly hire illegal immigrants, and you cheat them on their time cards, and you screw them out of overtime, and you fly the American flag outside of your business, then someone ought to come around and burn your flag, not to dishonor it but to cleanse it of your filth.

Trump can't hit class. He doesn't even aim at class. There's no reason why he would. His supporters despise class because it makes them feel awkward and uneducated. Trump stinks of the Dollar Store and the all-you-can-eat buffet and the T-shirt with the obscene slogan on the front. The nation under Trump seeks the attitude and atmosphere of a strip club in a cement block building next to an abandoned strip mall.

We'll get it, too. We're already cheaper than that fatty supermarket hamburger that comes in a plastic tube and contains mostly hooves and snout.

"Striving" just means trying to make money, and rich is always right, which again are the standards of the strip club. No man ever got thrown out of a strip club because he had had a felony on his record.

The crowd is drunk and stupid, the "dancers" are mostly drug addicts who haven't started to show it yet, and the owner's making a roomful of money every night. He is a successful entrepreneur.

I've seen the American flag flying outside a strip club, waving proudly over the cigarette butts and smears of puke in the parking lot, and of course the building was painted pink. If I hadn't worked in newsrooms for 40 years, I might have been heartsick seeing that flag.

America can't hit class. We're not even aiming.

To find out more about Marc Dion, and read words by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit www.creators.com. Dion's latest book, a collection of his of his best columns, is called "Mean Old Liberal." It is available in paperback from Amazon.com, and for Nook, Kindle and iBooks.