bizarreville

Dear Mr. President,

As I sat in that House gallery, listening to your stirring State of the Union speech, I could not help but be inspired by you once again.  You are the leader who speaks to my heart…speaks like no one else has ever done.  Every word was like a little nugget of gold, flowing from your lips like warm butter dripping off an English muffin on a Saturday morning.  It was dreamy.

When you spoke of nailing those millionaires by jacking up their taxes, I was reminded of my poor old late grandfather.  He was never a rich man.  But he worked hard…worked especially hard around April 15th to dodge taxes, claim false deductions, and contrive loopholes.  He helped our family by providing us with a nice living.  We never had much, but you know what?  We didn’t know any better.  That is until my friend Sheila told me about how her grandfather bought her a brand new pony for Christmas, while my grandfather gave me a garage sale little doll that wreaked like motor oil.  Like it had been sitting in a garage on the auto accessories shelf, or something.  I hated my grandfather for a while, until he told me about stall cleanup duty…then my doll didn’t seem so bad, and the smell was less putrid.

When you talked about leveling the playing field, I was reminded of my brother-in-law.  He is a man who prays and goes to church every day, but for reasons beyond his control, he has been unable to hold a job.  True, he hasn’t really pounded the pavement to look for a job, but he has managed to make it over to the unemployment office religiously to pick up his unemployment check and food stamps.  He is like many who continue to be victimized by the evil people on Wall Street, and just need a few enhanced entitlements to get by.  He, and his drinking buddies who are sadly in a similar fix, just want a little safety net to pay the bar tab and maybe give the bartender a small tip…hey, maybe shoot a game of pool.  Is that too much to ask from those greedy rich people?

I was enchanted with how you managed to blame everyone except yourself for the pathetic state of our Union.  I, myself, struggle so much when I screw something up, and often end up shouldering the blame.  I just can’t seem to find someone convenient to blame, some way to dodge the bullet, some way to spin the event so that I come out harmless.  But when I watch you do it, I become inspired.  My goodness, you’ve had one of the worst performance records since Herbert Hoover, yet you never have taken a single ounce of blame.  I loved the way you blamed that old nasty Bush for your problems for 3 years, blamed Republicans in Congress for being non-cooperative.  And watching you spin those facts to make it sound like the economy is healthy…if only I could have your talent.

Your “America, Built to Last” reminds me of our nation’s automaking industry and how it needs to be rebuilt.  I bought a Chrysler last year, and it’s been in the shop about 30% of the time.  Hell, the rearview mirror fell off.  But I guess that’s what you mean when you challenge us all to focus on the manufacturing industries here…build more junky cars and sell them to the Chinese as payment instead of cash.  It will not only help the automakers, but also the after-market companies that have to make replacement parts for the crap that keeps on breaking.  The bottom line is that it is all about jobs:  good overpaid jobs for underworked workers.  You’ve got my support.  I just encouraged my sister to go out and buy a Buick.  She asked me why should she buy such a piece of total crap.  And I said:  Because it’s your duty.

Thank you again for such an uplifting speech, and I look forward to re-electing you for at least 4 more years.  I understand the Mission, and you have my full support.

Sincerely,

Nancy P.

Disclaimer:  all stories and letters in Bizarreville are fiction.