Reporter's Note: After much ado the U.S. Senate passed its version of health care reform in the very early hours of this morning. Accordingly, I was up very late covering it…and then writing this letter.

Tom Foreman | BIO
AC360° Correspondent

Dear Mr. President,

Congratulations on clearing the most recent hurdle on this whole health care reform business, but when it comes to the timing, I must say “Bad form, Pan!” Seriously, do your pals over in the Senate not possess a calendar? Or watches? After so many months of talk, and deals, and talk, and compromises, and talk, and talk, and talk, how is it possible that such a key vote winds up scheduled at one o’clock in the morning, with the chimes of Christmas already sounding?

I understand that this is a very important bill for all those who favor it; and that you believe it is crucial for every citizen of the country. So, in turn, I grasp the notion that you may want to push through willy-nilly to the end no matter what the calendar or clock has to say.

But regardless of the merits or weaknesses of the plan, I’ve got to tell you it just seems shady or at least wildly undisciplined, to be voting on something as monumental as this in the middle of the night with the holidays breathing down our necks. Maybe I’ve read too many stories over the years of Congress members from both parties sledge-hammering through shoddy legislation in last minute dashes for the wire.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m emphatically NOT passing that judgment on this measure, nor am I jumping on board with the Republicans, (whom, I understand, Harry Reid blames for all the delays that led to the midnight vote.) What I’m saying is whether or not it is bad, it looks bad. (And don’t tell me that you and your Senate pals don’t care about how something looks; the whole DC crowd absolutely lives for a good photo op.) It feeds into the very criticism that some of your opponents are flinging around; that this is bad legislation sneaking into town under the dark of night.

Wouldn’t it have been much better to have held the vote at high noon on a work day? Then everyone who voted yes could have trooped out to the Capitol steps and whooped it up while they launched an effigy of Dick Cheney down the mall with a catapult. Now that would be a picture! Instead, what we got was dark images of a cold winter night, and endless mumbling about back door deals. And your opponents (who are already watching you and your party falling in the polls) got a whole belt full of new ammunition to say this is just the same old backroom politics…not change at all.

Call if you’d like, even if it’s only to ask what time it is. Ha! Just kidding. But do call.

Regards,

Tom

Follow Tom on Twitter @tomforemancnn.

Find more of the Foreman Letters here.

Reporter's Note: Do presidents get snow days? I don’t know. But I do know this one gets a letter from me every day.

Tom Foreman | BIO
AC360° Correspondent

Dear Mr. President,

I have no interest in writing a serious letter today. Zero. Just as it was when I was a kid, I like to believe that a heavy snowfall is an open invitation to sledding, snowball fights, fort building, and curling up later with a blanket and hot chocolate while steam curls off of my frozen toes. Anything, but plain old work.

So instead I’ll just tell you a little story.

When I was a kid in South Dakota, my parents used to take my brother and sister and me up to the Black Hills in the dead of winter, to shovel the snow off of frozen lakes, and strap on our skates. Sometimes we would just spend hours cutting little patterns on the ice, and playing tag. Other times we’d drag another family and our hockey sticks along, for a frenzied game. Once my dad tied a rope to a metal snow saucer. A kid would climb on board; Dad would start skating in a big loop, pulling the rope and tightening his turns until we were swinging wildly at the end of the tether in a manic circle; and then he’d let go and you’d fly across the blue black surface of Sylvan Lake, ice crystals stinging your face, and the cold cracks booming through the ice beneath you. I saw a fish frozen in the ice one time, his white mouth gaping open as if winter came all in a rush and surprised him. For a second-grader, it was high drama.

One bitterly cold day, my brother Robert and I decided to give up on the skating and go sledding instead. We selected a particularly steep piece of terrain alongside the lake and began stomping out a trail between the lodgepole pines. Higher and higher we pushed up the slope, tramping with our boots, and packing the snow down like a luge run. Periodically we turned toward the lake to eye the daredevil path we were creating. We worked for a long time; smoothing and shaping it into a veritable gun barrel of ice. And the longer the trail grew, the more I had doubts about the wisdom of the whole endeavor, but being the younger brother, I kept them to myself.

We had only one sled, but we had a snow shovel too, which we knew how to ride like the kids in “It’s a Wonderful Life.” So when we finally decided that we had extended the run as far as we dared, we prepared ourselves for the first…and possibly only descent, depending on the injuries. We were pretty sure there would be some.

Robert, in a rare burst of magnanimity, decided that I deserved the honor of the sled. The must faster sled. The much, much faster sled. Or, as I liked to think of it, the death-mobile. And again, being the young brother, I dared not refuse for fear of being slapped with the crushing appellation, “You big baby.”

I did, however, quickly come up with a counter play. “O.K., great. But since you are taking the shovel, it’s only right that you get to go down first.” After some back and forth, and further delays for which we were both grateful, he agreed; because after all, even the “big brother” title can be sullied by any hint of cowardice.

If either one of us wanted to back out, the scope of our efforts had already made it impossible. Every extra minute we had spent sculpting the run to perfection to delay actually using it, had ironically also deepened the cosmic certainty that eventually we must. By making it so beautiful, so steep, so slick, and so daring, we inadvertently engineered ourselves out of any excuse for walking away.

Suddenly, the sun was behind the nearby hills, the purple sky going gray, our parents were making noise about leaving, and we mutually realized it was the proverbial “now or never.” So we pulled our gloves even tighter over our stiff fingers; cinched our hats down more firmly over our frostbitten ears; sniffled up our runny noses, and lowered ourselves into position.

“I’ll take off,” my brother said, “and you start right behind me.” I suppose his theory was if we stayed close enough we might enter the afterlife in each other’s company. “One. Two. Three. Go!”

We pushed off simultaneously, his shovel shooting ahead of me and throwing up a fine spray of crystals while he whooped and hollered. I was face down on my sled, hanging onto the steering mechanism like a man possessed as I ripped along right behind him. Our speed increased. The run roared beneath his shovel and sang beneath the steel runners of my sled. Faster and faster. Slight rises in the path that seemed negligible in construction, now became vaults which threw us skyward as we gained velocity.

It was all happening in a matter of seconds, but I saw him rocking more wildly at each landing, and felt my own sled careening from side to side, dangerously close to leaving the track and cracking my head like a walnut on a granite outcropping. The trees whipped past like pool cues in a barroom fight.

Only a short distance to go. The gray of the woods and lowering sky lightened over the lake. I sucked in a breath and vowed to hold on no matter what; like Shackleton, I would make it. Then the universe unraveled.

My brother slammed into the last bump, and was catapulted into the air. His shovel clanged off into the woods, and he crashed down, rolling, thundering against the snow, arms and legs flailing, and finally coming to a stop, stretched on his back across the trail in front of me. There wasn’t even time to scream. The metal runners shot across his stomach like twin Ginsu knives. My sled and I took flight. Suspended and sailing for just a moment, then pounding down, miraculously still aboard. The snow ran out, and the flat ice of the lake compressed against my chest through the sled. I kicked the toes of my plastic boots against the rime and rolled off, skidding to a stop as the sled went on. I scrambled back to the slope, sliding a step down for every one up, until I reached him, fearing the fratricide I’d surely committed.

He was lying there laughing, gasping for breath, and laughing some more. I collapsed alongside him and was soon consumed by laughter too. He was utterly uninjured.

Later, on the drive home, his belt buckle fell off, and we saw that the runner had neatly cut through all but a few wisps of his belt on either side. True story.

Hope you enjoy your snow day. Call if you can.

Regards,

Tom

Follow Tom on Twitter @tomforemancnn.

Find more of the Foreman Letters here.

Reporter's Note: The president went to Denmark and says he got a good deal on global climate change. I once went to Mexico and got a hammock for five dollars! And considering all the snow on the east coast, a hammock in Mexico sounds pretty good right now. Anyway, here’s my daily letter to the White House.

Tom Foreman | BIO
AC360° Correspondent

Dear Mr. President,

Forgive me, but I can’t help laughing over the idea that Nancy Pelosi had to leave the global warming summit early because a major snowstorm is bearing down on D.C. I know that this is a big, serious issue and all, but you’ve got to admit that is some fine irony. These are the things that make me believe God has a sense of humor.

I’m not sure what to make of your announcement of a “meaningful” deal with China and all the others on the climate over there in Copenhagen. Some people are giving you pats on the back, and others are saying it’s a sham. I have to admit it sounds kind of vague, but what do I know? Seems like the only way any of us will know for sure is to wait thirty years and see where we stand. Kind of like marriage.

I was once told that a hummingbird’s metabolism is so fast, that we appear to that little critter to be moving as slowly as a cloud…or an act of Congress. That’s how they can fly away from us so easily. Even when we run up, we look like enthusiastic glaciers. I don’t know if it’s really true. If I ever meet a talking hummingbird, I’ll ask.

In the meantime, I have been thinking about how that notion applies to a lot of issues we face. Global climate change, the aging of the population, the deficit, the management changes for the Washington Redskins; no matter how fast these matters may be moving on the grand stage of history…they appear to be absolutely creeping on the human scale. And of course that’s your whole problem. It’s just way too easy to push off dealing with long-term issues, when we have pressing short-term ones staring us in the face. Have you ever tried to discuss retirement planning with a 19 year old who wants lunch?

You asked for advice long ago, and that’s mine for today: For as much as you feel that global warming is an urgent matter; you need to remember that not even everyone who believes in the science of it, necessarily thinks we have to take action immediately. They’re hummingbirds, and they see the trouble creeping up on us with plenty of time ahead in which it can be addressed. They are on your side, but be careful. If you sound the alarm too loudly suggesting that all is lost unless we do something today, then what reason would they have to pay attention tomorrow?

I presume as you read this I will be trapped by snow, like a marmot in the Yukon. But I assure you, I won’t be trapped for long. Have cross-country skis, will travel! Call if you get a moment…guess who has a new Blackberry?

Regards,

Tom

Follow Tom on Twitter @tomforemancnn.

Find more of the Foreman Letters here.

Tom Foreman | BIO
AC360° Correspondent

The Internet is overflowing with holiday gift books for your politically savvy friends; to be unwrapped, placed prominently on the coffee table, and given to the school book drive two months later when your pals realize they are not really that interested in a biography of Barry Goldwater.

The problem is clear: For all the books out there, the ones that we actually want to read were simply not penned. So herewith I present the ten best books of the year that should have been written:

1.  Sarah Palin, Levi’s on the Floor!: When a harried ex-governor is called away from her busy schedule of debunking climate change by the hijinks of her almost son-in-law, hilarity prevails! And when he poses for Playgirl, it’s not just the planet that heats up.

2.  Barack Obama, Dreams of My Campaign: In beautifully crafted prose, the Commander in Chief explains why certain unforeseen situations, the difficulty of pulling people together, and the economy have made fulfilling his campaign pledges…uh…what was I saying?

3.  Hillary Clinton, I Told You So: The much-anticipated answer to Dreams of My Campaign.

4.  Joe Lieberman, What, Me Worry?: The Connecticut independent takes a madcap look at his life as the Alfred E. Newman of the Senate. The chapter on holding health care hostage will leave you laughing so hard, you’ll forget your chronic illness and crushing medical bills.

5.  Timothy Geithner, Reforming Wall Street: Fiction.

6.  Tareq and Michaele Salahi, Our Best Friend, Barack Obama: An insider’s look at the White House from two people who were given unprecedented access to every corner. Well, at least that’s what they said.

7.  Meghan McCain, Post It!: Senator John McCain’s daughter shares her innermost thoughts and provocative pictures. It’s like her Facebook page, only on paper.

8.  John Boehner, Just Say No: Anyone can make the government do things; but making it do nothing while keeping your tan is an art.

9.  Ralph Nadar, I’m Still Alive: SWM seeks campaign for long walks, snuggling.

10.  And while this one is not political, it surely should have been written. Tiger Woods, Excuse Me, Miss, but I Think That’s My Putter.

Happy shopping.

Reporter's Note: The voters have once again been polled about President Obama. The short story is, half of them think he’s doing a decent job, a little less than half don’t, and the rest are off buying shoes, or eating lunch, or something like that. The longer story is that he is wrestling with some tough issues and paying a political price. Thank goodness he gets free advice every day in my letter to the White House.

Tom Foreman | BIO
AC360° Correspondent

Dear Mr. President,

Is there something I don’t know about Joe Lieberman? Does he cheat at golf, or steal pens, or never pick up the check during Senatorial Happy Hour? I ask only because I am a little puzzled by all the venom being sprayed at him by many of your Democratic pals this week over the health care debate.

Certainly I can understand the frustration of folks who felt like he was proving to be a stumbling block to their dreams of having a government option for health insurance as part of this reform package. I get the equation: The measure could not pass without his vote; he wouldn’t give it if the public option remained in the legislation; so it was dropped to get him to play along. What I don’t get, (and I’m really not trying to be a wise guy about this) is what’s wrong with that?

I thought the whole point of democracy is that we elect people who we believe represent our interests (ha! I laugh every time I say that) and they duke it out over the issues. And that means sometimes they disagree. And sometimes they disagree down to the last vote. But it seems to me if people on the losing side in any debate want to be mad at someone it should be their leadership for letting the issue come down to such a fine line. Could Lieberman’s vote (or the vote of some other Senator) eventually make or break this legislation? Technically yes, but you could just as easily say every single person who votes against it is the “deciding” vote; why didn’t the proponents of this measure do a better job winning them over?

If you have reason to expect some kind of dirty dealing, I guess that would be a different matter. But I haven’t seen evidence of that here, any more than I do in pretty much every contentious vote up on the Hill. And btw, isn’t that what politics is all about?

One more thing: Although Lieberman generally votes with the Democrats, he had to run as an Independent to keep his seat because the party bosses were not exactly in his corner. Why is everyone so surprised now that he’s not going out of his way to be in theirs?

Just wondering. If you have any insights on all this, give me a call. I’m always ready to hear the case against a lawmaker, but in his case, I’m not sure I’ve heard it yet.

Regards,

Tom

Follow Tom on Twitter @tomforemancnn.

Find more of the Foreman Letters here.

Reporter's Note: President Obama apparently wrote a letter to North Korean leader Kim Jong Il. Maybe now he’ll invite him over to watch football too, or perhaps for a game of badminton on the South Lawn. My daily letter to the White House comes pre-steamed.

President Obama, left, sent a personal letter to North Korean leader Kim Jong Il, a U.S. official says.

Tom Foreman | BIO
AC360° Correspondent

Dear Mr. President,

What? You wrote a letter to North Korea’s Kim Jong Il? Seriously? As you know, I try to be a patient man, and I don’t ask for much. Just a note when you can, maybe a call now and then. I always make allowances for your busy schedule, and assume the best when I don’t hear from you, which so far has been…uh…forever. So this, as they say in Asia, takes the rice cake!

Let’s got through a list of reasons why I deserved a letter more than the disagreeable Mr. Kim.

1) I have never, nor do I intend in the future, to lob missiles over Japan. It’s just not the kind of thing I would do and any of my friends will tell you so. Even if I had a brace of intercontinental missiles to heave into the sky, I would most likely save them for a special occasion like Fourth of July or Bastille Day and they would be purely for fun. Like sparklers or a corn maze.

2) As far as I can tell, I’ve never been involved in letting my people starve. My family and I once got caught on the Pennsylvania Turnpike very late and it took us much longer than expected to find a place for dinner, and even then it was a sort of dingy diner-joint, but that’s about as close as I’ve come to that particular crime against humanity.

3) I didn’t get my job just because Daddy had it first. I earned it.

4) Look all over my backyard all you want. Send in the U.N. inspectors. You will not find a single nuclear facility. I even keep the water heater turned down to a safe and environmentally-friendly level.

5) I have never captured any American journalists who strayed too close to my border. To the contrary, I have been trapped at long, tedious dinners by large groups of journalists before, and yet I have never taken retribution. (I must say, however, I once made a dazzling escape. I said I had to get change to tip the coat check guy and I ran for it. Ha!)

6) I’ll write back. One of the first rules of correspondence I learned as a child is, if you want to get mail, you have to send mail. And your response to my missives to the contrary (ahem!) I have generally found that to be true. Not to be mean about it, but frankly don’t expect any sympathy from me when you don’t hear anything back from your pen pal in North Korea. “Barack? What are you doing sitting here in the dark?” “Oh, I don’t know, Michelle. It’s been three weeks and I just expected something. At least a postcard…”

7) You can always safely and comfortably drive around my house because I never stage massive parades of soldiers just to show how important I am.

As you can tell, I am disappointed. I hope your new little friend can take time out of his busy schedule of repressing his people to write back, but I just want to suggest that attempts to cozy up to a bully often go badly. They make your real friends feel neglected, and they reward the bully for being one.

I hate to say it, but don’t call today even if you feel like it. Maybe I should start writing to someone else who might appreciate it more. Biden seems to have some time on his hands. And Joe Lieberman seems pretty lonely lately.

Regards,

Tom

Follow Tom on Twitter @tomforemancnn.

Find more of the Foreman Letters here.

Reporter's Note: President Obama continues to push the fluids, band-aids, and aspirin on the health care reform bill, trying to keep it alive. I keep working the same three to keep myself at the keyboard, writing my daily letters to the White House.

Tom Foreman | BIO
AC360° Correspondent

Dear Mr. President,

Well, I had to run back to New York again to work more on my special, All the Best, All the Worst of 2009. I’m rocking along on the train as I write, and hoping I can get back home soon because this will be my elder daughter’s last complete Christmas at home before heading off to college, and I want to enjoy every moment I can. Last night we decorated our tree and she put the star on top. And yes, that sound you heard was me sniffling. Can’t imagine our home without her or her sister. Oddly enough, I think my wife can easily imagine the house without me. Go figure. Ha!

Anyway, to business: I’ve been watching your fellow Dems flinging water out of their rowboat at a furious rate, trying to keep some version of health care reform afloat, and I have something you might want to think about. When I see a any person anywhere, in business, politics, military matters, dry cleaning, or even family finances, making huge compromises to reach some goal I assume it must be very important to that soul. Why else would he or she endure such turmoil and struggle? To that extent, their willingness to adjust their hopes to practicality is admirable. Sometimes, however, I have also seen people lose sight of what they are fighting for in the first place, and merely wind up battling to win.

As I like to put it, you have to be careful not to burn the furniture to heat the room, unless you are certain that is the only way to make it through the night. Whether you pass health care reform or not is up to you and your pals in Congress; and whether that is a good thing or not is up to the public. All I’m saying is make sure you ask yourself before your pen touches paper if what you wound up with was what you can live with, what you think we should live with, and not just a check mark in the political win column. Because if it is nothing more than that, you may find that it sets up innumerable losses down the line.

On a more pleasant note, it was lovely seeing you and Mrs. Obama at the Christmas in Washington concert. I noticed you looking my way, and I assume you wanted to come over and chat, but I understand why you didn’t make it. The room was crowded, it would have made the Secret Service nervous (Hey, I’m not a Salahi, but still…) and that snake, Ed Henry, was standing right between us.

No worries. Just call when you can.

Regards,

Tom

Follow Tom on Twitter @tomforemancnn.

Find more of the Foreman Letters here.

Reporter's Note: President Obama met with some high-finance banker types to urge them to be more helpful to the recovery by making more loans available to taxpayers and easing up on some of the customer fees they are requiring. Ha! Good one! The subject of my daily letter to the big house on Pennsylvania Avenue.

Tom Foreman | BIO
AC360° Correspondent

Dear Mr. President,

While I appreciate your appeal to the better nature of those bankers, I suspect you are a bit like a rabbit appealing to the kinder side of wolf. Even if the wolf eats more slowly, the rabbit is still dinner.

The high finance crowd, (you know, the ones with gold Krugerrands stuffed into their penny loafers, and trophy wives who no longer bronze at the tanning salons, but instead are custom ordered with a platinum coating) has made it screamingly clear that they are not in the same boat with us; heaven forbid, they don’t even want to share our ocean. Oh sure, they’ll take our money to bail out their mistakes, and they’ll show up to have their picture taken with you, but if you think they have even the faintest glimmer of concern about the “greater good,” you’ve been sharing too many lunches with Geithner.

How many times do I have to say this? You keep hoping these guys and gals will see the error of their ways and realize their country needs help. You forget, however, that they don’t think they did anything wrong. Have you not heard these folks before Congress or in interviews? The way they tell it, their greed, manipulation of the markets, deceit, and gouging of customers had absolutely nothing to do with the problems we now face. CEO pay out of hand? Nonsense! Poor judgment in taking on outlandish risks to pad their own pockets? Poppycock!

What has happened, according to them, is some sort of freakish, economic natural disaster, in which they are victims too; huddling terrified in their corporate jets as they wing to Switzerland for dinner and a massage, worried sick that when the kids come home from boarding school for the holidays they may be forced to fly, gasp, commercial! (Uh…but not coach. Come on, let’s be serious.)

Whatever they said to you at your meeting, I can assure you what the real message was (and use your best Scrooge voice if you are reading this out loud): “Mr. President, we are not in the business of nation building or social assistance. We make money. For ourselves. And while we are proud defenders of the U.S., the truth is, we always thought that spelled ‘us,’ meaning…well, us…not all you rabble. Sure you bailed us out at a critical time by giving us a loan on terms that would make us leap from a cliff if we ever had to be so generous, and for that we happily say, ‘Thanks, suckers.’ But you did that for your own interests. And as the old saying goes, what have you done for us lately?”

You said that you “expect” them to help us rebuild? Yes, and I expect you to one day pick up the phone and give me a call. I expect to play lead guitar on the next Foo Fighters tour. I expect Lawrence Summers to flap his way through the night to bite into my ATM machine’s neck, and render my checking account immortal. And we see how all that is working out.

Seriously, you “expect” them to help? I’m sorry; I have to stop writing now. I’m laughing so hard I can’t see the keyboard.

Regards,

Tom

Follow Tom on Twitter @tomforemancnn.

Find more of the Foreman Letters here.

Reporter's Note: I’ve been writing to President Obama every single day since he took office. You might think he’d send a postcard when he travels. Yes, you might think that, but you’d be wrong. Sigh. Anyway, here is today’s letter to Pennsylvania Avenue.

Tom Foreman | BIO
AC360° Correspondent

Dear Mr. President,

Not too eager to get back into work this morning, I must say. Last week was such a barnburner and I’m enjoying my time with the family so much, I just don’t feel like going to the mill.

Of course, I will anyway. I have never been the kind of person who can even contemplate staying home from work and feigning illness or anything like that. Other people can do it if they wish, but I just can’t get onto that train.

What do you have coming up this week? You really ought to call me once in a while and update me on your situation. I mean, what if I run into a common friend who says, “Hey, Tom, how’s it going? What do you hear from the president?” What am I going to say? You can understand the predicament you are putting me in. On the other hand, I understand how busy you are, so no rush; I’m just saying, eventually, pick up the phone!

I have to go back up to New York some day this week, although I’m not entirely sure which one or how long I will have to stay. That’s the news business. Years ago when I was in Denver, which was a hardcore travel bureau, I spent 10 years with a bag packed in the trunk of the car so I could head to the airport at any moment.

My wife would step upstairs to grab a sweater and say “Hey honey, can you keep an eye on the rice?” And she’d come down to find the pot boiling over and me gone for a week. Not really, but sort of.

Like I’ve said before, however, I’m not complaining. I know plenty of folks in this Christmas season are scraping to make ends meet and worrying about the job they don’t have. I think about them a lot and I know you do too. I especially think of them on mornings like this when I really don’t much want to go; I remember how much they wish they had a job to go to, and I put my head down and get to it.

Hope your weekend was good. I managed to get a couple of decent runs in for the first time in what seems like ages. Much needed.

Regards,

Tom

Follow Tom on Twitter @tomforemancnn.

Find more of the Foreman Letters here.

Reporter's Note: President Obama seems to be a pretty big reader, and I am too. I’m also a big writer, hence, my letter every single day to the Oval Office.

Tom Foreman | BIO
AC360° Correspondent

Dear Mr. President,

So just yesterday I was writing to you with a playlist of Christmas tunes that I like, and it made me think of one of the true treasures in my collection of recordings, and it is not a song at all. I have a 1938 version of A Christmas Carol by the Campbell Soup Radio Playhouse with Orson Welles and Lionel Barrymore. It is simply wonderful and I have been listening to it for years and years. I believe it is available on-line now, so you might want to check it out.

A Chrismas Carol has long been a favorite of mine, and heck for millions of folks. So every year I listen to the recording, and read the book, and love it even more. “Marley was dead to begin with…” What a great start to a story. And a great end, too, come to think of it.

I mention it, however, because just in case it hasn’t occurred to you, this would be a great time for all of us to reread that tale. Can you issue some sort of Executive Order? I suppose not, but still it’s an idea.

I know that everyone totally gets the whole three ghosts part and the ending is no surprise, but in the original book there is a subtext that is easily overlooked: What A Christmas Carol is really about is not really the holiday at all, but our year round obligation to care for the people around us, and especially those less fortunate. Charles Dickens was terribly concerned in his day and time about child labor, poverty, and families who wound up trapped in a cycle of suffering. That’s why those two starving children, Ignorance and Want, appear beneath the robe of Christmas Present.

Dickens wrote his story specifically for hard times; to be an inspiration to people who are facing adversity. It was a reminder of the importance of the need for “charity, benevolence, mercy.” I won’t attempt to salute his writing anymore than to just say, take the time…read it again. After all the movies, plays and TV shows, you can still find the deepest inspiration and understanding of this story hiding in the dusty depths of Dicken’s own words, which can seem as fresh as a snowy Christmas morning…especially when times are hard.

Call if you need me to run over with one of my copies. I’ve got five or six, including one edition I bought in London from 1883 or something like that. Uh…but you can’t borrow that one. Sorry.

Regards,

Tom

Follow Tom on Twitter @tomforemancnn.

Find more of the Foreman Letters here.

Reporter's Note: President Obama is pretty busy so I suspect he’s had little time to pull out his Christmas music collection, but no fear…in this installment of my letters to the White House I come riding down from Mt. Crumpet cheerily blowing Who Who on my trumpet.

At the White House, even Bo gets a stocking.

Tom Foreman | BIO
AC360° Correspondent

Dear Mr. President,

I am writing this onboard the train heading back to DC from New York after a week of work that felt like a month. I don’t know what it is about December, but even without the holidays, it would always be the single busiest month of the year for me. I suppose it is all those end-of-the-year projects coupled with all the folks who take time off. Slackers.

In the midst of all the work, one thing I really enjoy is Christmas music. I know, I know, you’re saying, “Who doesn’t?” But I think my interest runs a bit higher than most. I can’t put a figure on the number of Christmas recordings I have, but it is fairly impressive. Everything from punk rock anthems, to classic Andrews Sisters, to jazz renditions of eggnog rockers, to novelty hits, to Jimi Hendrix grinding out The Little Drummer Boy.

So I thought, since you are busy jetting around and picking up bling from the Swedes, you might appreciate a playlist of some of my favorites, in no particular order. Feel free to share it with your friends.

1. Fairytale of New York by the Pogues: A fitting starting place, considering my travel this week. This is just a magnificent tune. Unexpected, heartbreaking, rollicking and wonderful; filled with both the love and loss of the season. Maybe I have too much Irish in me; it makes me tear up every time.

2. 2000 Miles by the Pretenders: Some might not consider this a real Christmas song, but who cares? I first listened to it on a handheld cassette recorder on a bootleg tape while driving in my Chevy Biscayne through the Alabama night to join the family after working all day on Christmas Eve, late lights twinkling in every little town I passed.

3. Christmas in Hollis by Run-D.M.C.: Just a rocking great tune for the season. Liked it first time I heard it, and still do. “Rest in peace, Jam-Master Jay.”

4. I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas by Gayla Peevey: Totally goofy, and to be frank, I’m not a big fan of 10-year-olds with recording careers, (except Michael Jackson, and he’s gone) but it was a long time ago. In a complete Niles Crane moment I translated this song into French a few years ago just before my family went to Paris at Christmas and we confused a cabbie by singing it lustily while careening through the arrondissements.

5. Pastorales de Noel by Rampal, Legoya, and Legrand: Ok, I’m cheating here because this is an entire album, but it’s just lovely; classical with accessibility.

6. Blue Christmas by Elvis Presley: Doo doo doo doo do. “Hey, Priscilla, do we have any tape and some ribbon?”

7. Christmastime is Here by Gatsby’s American Dream: Yes, I like the original from the Charlie Brown show too, but it doesn’t hurt to update now and then.

8. I’ll Be Home for Christmas by anyone. Lately the new version by Bob Dylan has been lighting me up, but plenty of others have made this one as cool as the other side of the pillow.

9. Shouldn’t Have Given Him a Gun for Christmas by Wall of Voodoo: Noel tune aficionados may notice that a fair number of my choices come from two tres cool collections; A Santa Cause and Just Can’t Get Enough-New Wave Christmas. Both great additions to any holiday collection.

10. Blue Yule by various artists: I’m cheating again because this is a whole collection, but what a great one! I love the blues at Christmas; can’t even say why, and oddly enough, they just make me feel delighted. Go figure. But c’mon..Santa’s Messin’ With the Kid; Christmas Day…jamming tunes.

I’ve left too many out, (just thought about Christmas Bop by T-Rex; would it even be a holiday without that one? And Back Door Santa by Clarence Carter! And That Punchbowl Full of Joy by Del Fuegos!) and I’m leaning toward a rocking mood at the moment, so I probably skipped some of the more plaintive possibilities, but hopefully this gets you started. Maybe I’ll do another list in a few days. Call if you need me to burn a disc or you; it’s past-tech, but I’ll do it. It’s the season of sharing. Happy Hanukkah, btw!

Regards,

Tom

Follow Tom on Twitter @tomforemancnn.

Find more of the Foreman Letters here.

Tom Foreman | BIO
AC360° Correspondent

As a journalist, I’m used to being pushed around in the polls. It’s OK. I know you don’t like us much. You have doubts about the media’s integrity, trustworthiness, and honesty, and frankly there are times when I do too; when I want to say, “Move over. Make some room on that pew for me.”

Yet the good folks at Gallup have given my profession an early holiday gift that is lifting spirits in newsrooms coast to coast. A new poll shows that you, the public, consider members of Congress much less trustworthy than journalists. The House crowd was already in the ethics ICU, but now they are practically in need of life support.

Among the professions Gallup tested, nurses were the most trusted. Doctors, police officers and clergy, also took predictably high slots on the list. But then comes the bad news for the legislative bunch. Chiropractors, bankers, lawyers, advertising types, even insurance salespeople, and stockbrokers are all rated as more ethical. Congress members are down in the basement near HMO operators and car salesman.

This disapproval number has been steadily rising for years, and Gallup says it is now more than twice as high as it was back in 2000. The reasons are embarrassingly obvious: Scandals, gridlock, endless political sniping, and pursuit of ridiculous legislation…like, uh, forcing a national college football playoff. What is harder to explain is how Congress has such a hard time grasping this concept.

A few months back Sen. Claire McCaskill of Missouri was at one of those uproarious town hall meetings. As the crowd seethed and shouted, she asked in a bewildered tone, “You don’t trust me?” They roared back, “No!” And she responded, “I don’t know what else I can do.”

Really? I suspect everyone except Congress knows what can be done to rebuild trust. Lawmakers could start working together a bit more; quit excusing each other’s misdeeds; and get serious about solving the many serious issues that are facing the country right now, offering voters fair and even-handed explanations of what’s on the table, instead of spin. Ha! Just kidding. While that would undoubtedly give them better numbers, it’s about as likely as Harry Reid kayaking down the Hudson with a Christmas fruit basket for Dick Cheney. Trust me.

Follow Tom on Twitter @tomforemancnn.

Reporter's Note: President Obama gave a big speech about war and peace (the subjects, not the novel) as he accepted his Nobel Prize. I have not been given any medals but have some thoughts on the matter anyway in my daily letter to the White House.

Tom Foreman | BIO
AC360° Correspondent

Dear Mr. President,

That was a crackerjack speech, I must say! You know that I don’t just mindlessly applaud all you do, and lately, I’ve thought that you were kind of losing your touch, what with those rather pedestrian addresses about health care reform and all, but this one was spot on the money. Presidential, well-thought out, easy to dance to…I’ll give it a ten, Dick!

But seriously, I really thought it was marvelous, not only for the beautifully chosen words and phrases, but for the depth of the thoughts as well. Acknowledging the controversy over the Nobel Prize being awarded to you right from the get go was a masterstroke. It not only robbed your naysayers of the right to criticize so sharply, but in a strange way formed an alliance with them, by making it clear that you too have doubts about your worthiness so early in your presidency. Speaking freely too about the international eyebrow raising that, in some quarters, surrounds any military action by the United States was also a fine approach.

But most importantly, I was impressed by your ready and forthright statement that military power is not something that is inherently bad or to be damned as antithetical to peace. I have always told my daughters to respect others, avoid conflict whenever and wherever they can, and yet I say, “When somebody punches you in the nose, you are in a fight whether you want to be or not.”

You are right: There are evil forces in the world with which we sometimes simply can not negotiate. The philosophical problem with groups like Al Qaeda is that their terms for peace do not include our existence. We could not surrender to them if we wanted to without marching ourselves wholesale into the sea. I have spent many hours listening to the radical rants of terror leaders and they make it abundantly clear that their dream of the world is not merely one in which they live their way and we live ours; too many of them truly want everyone wiped off of the planet who does not cleave to their ideology. They speak only the language of force, and they will take Armageddon over compromise. If that sounds crazy, frankly, I think it is. They are. And just as the insane gunman who decides to shoot up a school must ultimately be shot down himself, there is ultimately no answer to such folks as these but war.

I wish it were not true. I pray for the day when war ceases to be. And I have great respect for people who believe that war can never be the instrument of peace. But I believe history has proven them wrong. War is terrible. War is inhuman. War is to be avoided as much as possible. But as long as people are greedy, violent, power-hungry and willing to kill for what they want on a grand scale, war is also inevitable.

You said it beautifully. That was a speech to be remembered.

Get some sleep. The travel must be tiring. Call when you can.

Regards,

Tom

Follow Tom on Twitter @tomforemancnn.

Find more of the Foreman Letters here.

Reporter's Note: President Obama is jetting around the world, and I’m moving a bit too; working in New York for the week, yet still sending my daily missive to the White House in D.C.

Tom Foreman | BIO
AC360° Correspondent

Dear Mr. President,

A number of my friends from New Orleans went to high school together, and had French class together, and learned the phrase “mon frère” together, and as high school boys are prone to do, found it funny. For them, it was not “my brother,” but rather a generic expression of extremism. As in, “That tackle hurt like mon frère!” or “That chicken is better than mon frère.” Anyway, when I became their friend I picked it up, so you’ll understand when I say it was raining like mon frère as I walked to the office this morning.

I tell you all this because we talk so seldom (like never!) that I want to keep you apprised of some of the finer points of my personality, just in case you’re feeling left out. I’m working in New York this week on my year-end special, 360’s All the Best, All the Worst of 2009. I do this show every year and it seems to have a huge following. Don’t know if you’ve ever seen it, but you are featured pretty prominently this year, so you might want to have someone back at the White House Tivo it if you’re on the road when it airs around Christmas and New Year’s.

In addition to that work, I’ve been filing a fair number of stories about this whole issue of global climate change. And let me tell you, from a reporter’s perspective, it’s a hard story to get people into. “Why?” you ask, in your most presidential tone, “It’s an important issue.”

Well, there are several reasons. First, it’s slow. Even if we took on faith some of the direst warnings of coming floods, fire, famine, and pestilence; we’re not talking about next Wednesday. We’re talking about the future, and when we jump into that wrestling ring there are a lot of issues fighting for attention; population growth, infrastructure, the deficit; all of which may present a more immediate threat to life as we know it.

Second, it’s got a lot of science in it. You’ve said yourself; we’re not exactly a bunch of science whiz kids in this nation, so you can understand why a lot of us start glazing over when the temperature charts come out.

And third, for all of the science, there are still a lot of maybes. Maybe we can change what we do and make a difference, but we’re not sure how much; maybe if we don’t bad things will happen, but we’re not sure exactly how bad or when; maybe, maybe, maybe. I’m not trying to say the concerns are illegitimate, I’m just saying it’s hard for people to get their heads around complex cause-and-effect equations, let alone squishy ones.

Anyway, good luck with your work. Did you take a sweater? Global warming or not, we are in the cold and flu season. Call if you can, or as always when you travel, a postcard would be nice.

Regards,

Tom

Follow Tom on Twitter @tomforemancnn.

Find more of the Foreman Letters here.

Reporter's Note: President Obama is going to pick up his Nobel Prize in Oslo. Considering the length of the trip, you’d think they might send it to him, the way I send my daily letters to the White House. If they need the address, they can contact me…

Tom Foreman | BIO
AC360° Correspondent

Dear Mr. President,

So I understand you are finally off to collect your Nobel Prize in Norway, eh? Good for you! It must be exciting, the idea of getting a shiny medallion surrounded by all those happy Norwegians and Swedes. There was certainly plenty of debate about whether it should have been given to you in the first place, but seems to me that we are past that now and you can pretty much just bask in the glow.

Not that I envy you. Big awards like that bring big expectations. I can just see some of that Middle East crowd punching your number into the speed dial and waiting for the very moment that ribbon settles on your neck. “Quick, call him! He’ll have to meet with us now. After all, we want to talk about peace.” Or when you do try to talk about peace with someone and something goes wrong, I’m sure you’ll get the “Oh, oh, I see! You’ve already got the prize so now you don’t have time for peace anymore. Been there, done that, hey Mr. President?”

I have found that a lot of people like the idea of peace in the abstract. They think it is terrible that people on the other side of the planet shoot at each other, and they are willing to wage an aggressive struggle to end the conflict, as long as it only involves buying a bumper sticker and not being late for yoga class. Meanwhile, they show little interest in extending the day-to-day kindnesses to their neighbors that actually promote community harmony. Because, after all, what is war but bad manners run amok?

Actually, bumpers stickers make the point pretty well. When I see one that says “Visualize world peace,” I usually think, “O.K. I’ve done that. Now, what would you actually like me to take action on? Because I’m pretty sure visualizing things alone does not make them happen, otherwise I would have had a pet monkey as a child, and spent a runaway weekend in Belize with a supermodel for my 21st birthday.”

But the bumper stickers that say, “Visualize using your turn signals;” well, that’s a message I can get into. It is actionable. It promotes order and cooperation between people. It’s not glorious. But it is something I can do to promote world peace in my little corner of the world. If I’m not getting that right, I’m not sure how qualified I am to lecture the rest of the planet on peaceable living…even if it might give me a shot at a medal of my own.

Call if you can find a free phone among all the Swedes. They’re nice people, and I’m pretty sure they’ll let you use it. Pretty sure they use their turn signals too.

Regards,

Tom

Follow Tom on Twitter @tomforemancnn.

Find more of the Foreman Letters here.

Reporter's Note: President Obama will attend the global climate summit in Denmark. I hope he can get my daily letter to the White House while on the road.

Tom Foreman | BIO
AC360° Correspondent

Dear Mr. President,

Let me be candid. I am not particularly convinced that this Climategate issue is all that some folks are cracking it up to be. I’m sure you’ve heard how some scientists swapped e-mails which seemed to suggest they were massaging data to support claims for global warming. “Massaging,” being a nicer word than manipulating. Maybe they were, maybe they weren’t. Maybe we’ll find out for sure once the investigations are done. Maybe we won’t. Maybe my living room will melt tonight and it won’t matter.

Whether these guys played footsie with the facts or not doesn’t worry me much. So many scientists have studied this business of the planet getting hotter, that unless we find a much deeper and broader conspiracy at work, I don’t think the entire field of research should be unduly tainted by this episode.

What does concern me, is the ancillary notion that scientists would be pursuing a political agenda at all; that we even have pro-global warming and anti-global warming camps. I really believe in the power of science. I believe it can help us understand our world, can help us define and deal with our problems, and one day will possibly even explain why hula-hooping remains an insurmountable challenge for me.

But I’ve always thought science should be asking questions, pursuing research, and accepting the results with no regard for whether those results support or refute a given scientist’s political views or beliefs. Is global warming the fault of humans? Is it a natural cycle? Is it a little a both? I don’t really care, unless the answers will help us truly determine how seriously we need to take this matter. For that, we just need good scientists who will be equally at ease with data that shows global warming getting worse or getting better; that shows man is to blame, or not.

My profession deserves from of the blame for the side-choosing going on in the labs. The scientist who sticks to cold facts often struggles to be noticed, while the flamethrowing ideologue gets his own TV show. If the headline says, “Climate Summit Begins in Copenhagen,” you can put that paper directly into the bottom of the canary cage, because no one is going to read it, including the canary. But if the headline says, “Climate Summit Begins AMID CONTROVERSY,” those papers will sell themselves, and the scientists embroiled in that controversy will have their phones light up like Christmas trees.

We can blame the public a bit too. People want simple, black and white answers. Research that says “something is happening very slowly, over a very long time, which might cause serious troubles, and we’re not positive why it is happening or what we can do about it,” tends to get a big yawn from voters; whereas, “Hawaii is sinking,” gets the gang up off the sofa.

But all of that aside, I think it is incumbent on our scientific community to back as far away from the political trenches as possible. Getting in bed with the Democrats or Republicans, or any interest group will only wind up in heartache. Sure, you might find extra funding, but the price is far too high. Because the minute any scientist tries not so much to find the truth, as prove a point, he or she is heading for hot water…no matter the temperature of the world.

Sorry to rattle on so much. Must be the heat! Ha! Call if you are so inclined.

Regards,

Tom

Follow Tom on Twitter @tomforemancnn.

Find more of the Foreman Letters here.

Reporter's Note: President Obama is the first president I’ve ever known who is younger than I am, if only by a bit. So you might consider my letters to the White House the advice of an elder. You might, but I think that would be stretching it.

Tom Foreman | BIO
AC360° Correspondent

Dear Mr. President,

I have just ended a magnificent day. I mentioned in a previous letter that it was my birthday, and now I feel I really must elaborate. This was my 50th birthday. In addition, my wife and I share the same birthday. No kidding. So when we heard that our beloved Saints were coming here to play against the Washington Redskins on our birthday, we decided that as our gift to each other, we would get tickets for our two teenage daughters and ourselves and go. Mind you, this was a couple of months ago, when it was no one imagined that the Saints would still be undefeated by the time they arrived.

The game was cold and as you might have heard, extraordinary. The Saints, quite frankly, did everything wrong. Their offense was off key; their defense like a sieve. The Redskins played as if they were the unbeaten team; marching down the field time and again on offense, and hammering the boys from the bayou when the Skins were on defense. Yet, period after period, the Saints stayed around; persistently trailing in the points, but staying at least vaguely within striking distance.

And then, when the game truly appeared utterly and completely lost, (and I must say, my family’s spirits were in the basement, birthday aside…) the Redskins slipped; missing a critical “nail in the coffin” field goal. The Saints pounced. It went into overtime and the Saints won. It was a very hard loss for the Redskins, no doubt, and having lived here for almost nine years, we have affection for that team too. Still, we came home and enjoyed a marvelous late birthday dinner made by our daughters, opened some presents, and as I write this, I still can’t believe the Saints pulled it off.

I said the Saints did everything wrong, but in retrospect, that is not actually true. They did one thing that is terribly right: They did not give up. I know that I have written about this before, but it’s always a lesson worth remembering. Whether a person is the president or a pauper, the only assurance of hope comes from relentlessly and optimistically pushing forward, despite all the setbacks we face, and believing good things can come.

In honor of my birthday, that’s it for tonight. I shall bask in the glow of my team’s good fortune, wish my wife (my birthday partner) a good night, and catch the late train to Snoozeville. I’m fifty. I’ve been alive for approximately twenty-percent of our nation’s history. And yet, I feel reborn. Ha! Now that’s a birthday.

Regards,

Tom

Follow Tom on Twitter @tomforemancnn.

Find more of the Foreman Letters here.

Reporter's Note: President Obama’s new plan for Afghanistan is being chewed over on the Sunday political talk circuit. Me? I’m going to the Saints game…but first I’m posting my latest letter to the White House.

Tom Foreman | BIO
AC360° Correspondent

Dear Mr. President,

Near a little diner that we like called the Georgetown Grill, there is an intersection where I found twenty dollars in the street a couple of years ago. It was a rainy day, rush hour traffic was buzzing all around, and I was ambling through a crosswalk when I looked down and saw it lying flitter-flat, soaking wet on the pavement. Good luck, huh?

The problem is, ever since I have been unable to walk past that spot without reflexively looking around for errant Jacksons. It’s become a family joke. “Keep a sharp eye kids, this is where the money grows wild!”

I mention this because I’ve been thinking a good bit about your speech on Afghanistan last week, especially the part where you emphasized that this was a haven for the 9/11 attackers. No question about it. Those Al Qaeda types enjoyed some pretty choice conditions for a while there for plotting and planning their schemes, and probably they’d be pretty happy to take up residence again if the Taliban seized control and would have them.

But it seems to me that the real hallmark of the terrorist movement has been adaptability. We start protecting planes, they start attacking trains. We begin searching ships, and they grow more fond of cars. We use more drones, they hide more deeply in populations where drone attacks are more likely to cause civilian casualties. What I’m saying is, I wonder if we attach too much importance to the idea of where the attacks came from in the past, and if that might be blinding us…or at least drawing resources away…from the places from which they might attack in the future.

Certainly there are plenty of deeply troubled, vaguely lawless spots in the world where a variety of terror groups are active, and I’ll just bet dollars to doughnuts that the Al Qaeda crowd, even as they deride your plans for Afghanistan, are taking seriously the idea that they may have to relocate at least a bit more of their operations. But, like I said, it looks like there are plenty of places for them to go.

In short, I think if they launch another attack out of Afghanistan, it will be pure, in-your-face spite. But if they can’t, I have no doubt they will try to launch one elsewhere; taking advantage of our focus on their old headquarters.

Remember that one of the chief assessments of 9/11 was that we failed to see it coming because of a “failure of imagination.” While it is up to you and the Congress and the military leaders to hash out the rights and wrongs of pursuing your strategy in Afghanistan, I can tell you this hands down: It’s not very imaginative to think that our enemies will just try to do the same thing from the same place over and over again.

And if we imagine incorrectly, we could be in for a terrible surprise…finding that we’ve spent our money, our lives, and our efforts raging against what might effectively prove to be a diversionary front in a worldwide battle.

On other topics: Did you hear that story about the guy dressed as an elf making a bomb threat in a Georgia mall? No kidding…he was turned in by Santa. Talk about making it on the naughty list. Call if you can. And oh, btw, it’s my birthday! Go Saints!

Regards,

Tom

Follow Tom on Twitter @tomforemancnn.

Find more of the Foreman Letters here.

Reporter's Note: I have not seen President Obama at the mall, which makes me wonder how his Christmas shopping is going. Mine is progressing pretty well; as is this continuing series of letters to the White House.

Tom Foreman | BIO
AC360° Correspondent

Dear Mr. President,

Getting the ghost out of our attic is not going to be easy. I have seen him (or her, I’ve never been that good at seeing the supernatural) peeking shyly from the ornamental window at the highest corner of the house for almost two months now, and even though she/he makes no noise, just the idea of…it….being there has started to trouble me. Of course, it should not. After all, I put it there.

Every October, I crawl through a narrow attic passage on a board over the joists, trying not to disturb the insulation as I wriggle through, balance on a pair of beams, step to the window and slip the lighted, plastic ghost into place. Then in early December, I make the journey again to take the ghost down and hang a huge (and heavy!) lighted wreath outside the same window. Anyway, we’ve got to make the switch this weekend and I’m not looking forward to it.

There are many chores this time of year that are a bit of a struggle to take on, and I’m sure you must be more than usually overwhelmed with the prospect of Christmas shopping. So I decided to help out with a little gift suggestion list for some of those closest to you. Considering our economic times, I’m going with a blend of practical and pleasant.

1) Joe Biden: Call me crazy, but he looks like a guy with plenty of comfy slippers, so that idea won’t work. Not a drinker, so wine is out. On the other hand, what does every Vice President have a lot of? Time on their hands! I think I’d give him either a decorative hour glass for his desk, or perhaps an aquarium. He can watch the fish swim around, and if you need to keep him corralled you can even make it part of the job. “Seriously, Joe, I must know how many times the angle fish goes through the little pirate ship today.”

2) Hillary Clinton: What she really wants you can’t give her; not without giving up your job. But you can give her the next best thing: How about an Oval Desk! I know that seems a little extravagant in our tough times, but she’s done more than her share to make your Administration look good, if only by keeping her husband in a productive and positive mood about it all.

3) Kathy Sebelius: She’s had some difficulties, what with the swine flu vaccine and the breast cancer screening controversy. With health care on the table, I’m pretty sure you can’t afford to give her time off to go to a spa, but maybe you can lower the heat on her. How about having another party? That will focus all the attention on your security folks and the social office. You can call it the “Let’s Give Kathleen a Break Christmas Party.” Maybe you can even issue a presidential challenge: A free poinsettia to the first three people to sneak in without invitations.

4) Tim Geithner: No sweaters, no iPods, no new cell phone or HD TV. This guy needs cash. At least a hundred bucks. Make like the grandparents and give him a hand.

5) Me! Truth be told, Mr. President, I’m doing fine. Sure, I’m worried about the economy like anyone else. I pray for the safety and success of our troops overseas, and I can’t help but be concerned about the deepening political divides in our nation. Anything you can do to make those situation better, I’m all for. But in a hands-on, put-it-under-the-tree kind of way, I don’t really need or want anything. Except maybe a call.

Ah well, the ghost is howling in the window and the wreath is waiting. Going to get our Christmas tree this weekend. I notice you already have yours. Have you decorated it yet? And btw, nice job on the big, outdoor tree-lighting with the family. Looked like fun.

Regards,

Tom

Follow Tom on Twitter @tomforemancnn.

Find more of the Foreman Letters here.

Tom Foreman | BIO
AC360° Correspondent

Back in junior high gym class when wrestling was on the agenda, there was no more frightening foe than the hulking Gooch McFeeney. You knew from the moment that he lumbered to the mat, dropped the beef shank he’d been gnawing on, and squinted his grizzly bear eyes, that you had no chance of winning.

But by running around, shrieking like a cheerleader every time he landed a hairy paw, and frantically squirming at least one shoulder into the air each time he went for the pin, you could delay losing for quite a while. Go on long enough, Gooch would tire, and maybe you would not have to lose at all.

It is a peculiar characteristic of sports, chess, and arguments with your spouse, that winning is much tougher than merely not losing. “Winning” requires aggressive, focused, and tenacious effort. “Not losing” just requires holding on.

That is the key problem we face in Afghanistan, even as President Obama’s new strategy is put into action. Whether we leave in 18 months, or reassess and leave in 18 years, the Taliban, as far as we can tell, is never going to leave.

There are plenty of other serious issues. Our relationship with Pakistan, while long standing, often veers into that shaky sort of Jon and Kate territory. Can we really count on them to guard the Taliban’s back door escape route while we chase the bad cats out of the Afghan kitchen? This notion of rapidly training up enough Afghans to secure their own country is another big question mark. How will they pay their troops? Are there enough young men there willing to throw themselves into this fray, or will too many seek instead a personal détente with their local Talibanistas? On it goes.

In each case, we have to effectively make progress, and the Taliban has to merely hang on. Our measure of success is the stabilization and security of an entire land. The Taliban’s success: Just a few hundred guys hiding in the hills, who wake up each day to say, “We are still here, and patient, and waiting for our next chance.” Where is Gooch McFeeney when we need him?

Follow Tom on Twitter @tomforemancnn.