March 11, 2016 was the night I parted ways with Cruz. I was already in the tank because it was the fifth anniversary of Fukushima, and then because Keith Emerson had committed suicide because he couldn't play the organ anymore, and then Cruz stood in that department store doorway and started blaming Trump for the protests at the Chicago rally, and I started screaming at the TV, calling Cruz things God never intended. I knew that night that Trump was the one over the target, because he was taking all the flak, and I've flown in his formation ever since.
That’s when Cruz became dead to me, too.
L