There was a time when people would write letters. Not so much anymore. Today they might send an email or a text message, but a nice handwritten letter, possibly written with a fountain pen and in cursive, is passé. (It is probably a good thing since my handwriting has seriously deteriorated. If I do say so myself, my signature used to be a fine example of elegant calligraphy; it is now merely an unreadable scribble.)
If you had a grievance or wanted to express approval for your congressperson’s or even the president’s efforts, you’d drop them a line by “snail mail.” That was the preferred method of communication between constituents and elected officials in Washington. You might not get a response, but you’d feel good about getting your view off your mind. Now mail is scanned for bombs and dangerous chemicals. It may take weeks to reach your favorite politician.
In light of all the negative news our current tenant of the People’s House gets every day, I thought I’d write a positive letter to him written, straight from the heart. I’d write…
“Dear Don,
Is it okay to call you Don or is that too close to Don Corleone, the Godfather in the movies?
I wouldn’t want to break protocol.
I confess I have wondered if your presidency were to be a movie, which one of your sons would play Sonny, or Michael. Maybe Eric might play Fredo. Your Deputy Chief of Staff, Stephen Miller, would make a great consigliere.
Sorry, my mind tends to wander. I know you understand, as we are the same age. We are a lot alike. I take a lot of naps, too.
What I really want to talk to you about is the fine job you have been doing. Some of the innovations you have initiated are very creative. That cage fight on the White House lawn was just fantastic, and the new helipad with the Presidential Seal etched in granite is even more beautiful after you ripped it up and redid it. You were right, the first version was too sloped. The public would not want to see Marine One tip over upon landing, especially with you in it.
The Freedom 250 Grand Prix Road Race through the streets of Washington to cap off the Semiquincentennial celebration of the nation’s 250th anniversary was a stroke of genius. I am glad you hired some sound engineers to determine if the vibrations would not damage the original Bill of Rights and the Declaration of Independence documents in the National Archives. You did, right?
I know you thought long and hard about the merchandise that was sold at the event. Too bad the T-shirt with the picture of a racecar in front of the Lincoln Memorial and the inscription ‘One Nation, One Race’ had to be removed due to some silly backlash. I am sure it would have been a big seller at $50 bucks a pop.
I know you don’t like to blow your own horn, but I want to thank you for recently signing an executive order banning tubas from China because they were a national security risk. Tubas are big and brassy and make that loud oompah noise, which is very dangerous. There is no need for that. There are no tubas in the Village People’s Y.M.C.A song.
I know your intention was to save American tuba makers from cheap foreign competition. It is just sad that the major tuba manufacturer in the U.S. just shut its only plant in Eastlake, Ohio, and laid off 150 employees to move to China. Bad timing on their part, I guess.
Well, I know you are a busy man, so I’ll let you go. Please give my best regards to Malaria…oops. I mean Melania. (I told you my handwriting had deteriorated.)
Best, Dick”
Mattapoisett resident Dick Morgado is an artist and happily retired writer. His newspaper columns appeared for many years in daily newspapers around Boston.
By Dick Morgado