President Donald Trump, a pus-filled boil on the American backside, could learn what to expect from a long ago friend of mine who made his living as a professional criminal.
"You can do crimes for 10 years, and you never get arrested," he said. "You get arrested once, you get arrested every 23 months for the rest of your life."
Of course, the guy I knew bought stolen guns from junkies who stole them in home burglaries out in the suburbs, where people who are in no danger of being killed by intruders keep buying guns anyway.
And this is a good thing and important to the economy of inner-city drug dealers and gang bangers, both of whom need a steady supply of stolen guns to keep doing business.
President Trump is just beginning to know what it's like to attract the attention of the law.
You float along for years, groping women, going bankrupt, stiffing the people who work for you and everything's fine.
You're like that drug dealer who makes just enough money to put $3,000 down on a two-year-old Mercedes. He's buys it from one of those city car lots that always seem to be on a pie-shaped piece of land next to a business with a "WE BUY GOLD SIGN" out front.
So the drug dealer, who is making maybe $600 a week, gets the Mercedes, and he's driving around his choice of bad neighborhood and the less responsible welfare mothers are looking at him like he's a ticket to endless good times, and the kids in the project look a long time at his car when he wheels through.
And he gets arrested with something bad in his pocket and he gets probation the first time, and he keeps driving the car, but he gets arrested again in 23 months because now the cops know his name, and every time those damn detectives start an investigation in his neighborhood, one of 'em says to the others, "I wonder if Jo-Jo has a piece of this?"
Guys like Jo-Jo and Trump do not confuse law enforcement by refusing to read from the script.
"I ain't did nothin'," Jo-Jo says when arrested. Or perhaps he says, "That ain't my dope. I was holding it for a friend."
"This a witch hunt!" Trump tweets, falling back on the cliches of his own kind, and, "Those aren't my Russians. Somebody just left 'em in my campaign."
And the cops say, "Yeah, Jo-Jo, some guy you can't remember left $1,300 worth of heroin in your glove compartment."
Jo-Jo will go to jail more than once in his life, and he will get out and buy another Mercedes. He will do this until he dies in his early 60s or until he hits his late 50s, which is too old for a lot of street business. Guys like Trump don't have an expiration date, and many rich thieves keep stealing well into their 80s.
Jail is only bearable for people who have more time than money. If you don't have to be in any certain place at any certain time, 18 months in the county lock-up is not much time.
If you've got more money than time, even a minute in a cell is such a separation from your cash that you will pay any lawyer, judge, cop or senator to get out.
Right now, Trump needs to think about the every 23 months rule. It's a good rule, and accepting it keeps you from crying every time some cop with gym muscles says, "We want to talk to you."
To find out more about Marc Munroe Dion and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit www.creators.com. Dion's latest book, "The Land of Trumpin," is a modestly priced collection of his columns from before during and after the most recent election. It is available in paperback from Amazon.com, and for Nook, Kindle, iBooks and GooglePlay.