Tom Foreman | BIO
President Obama has had a relatively rough week. So have I, in my own way, but since I’m not a president, no one really notices. Ah well. At least I have my letters to the White House to keep me warm.
Dear Mr. President,
I am playing chauffeur for a daughter's prom tonight, so I am writing this at a bar on the Georgetown waterfront where I am killing time until I pick the gang up from dinner. I've never really liked bars. I don't drink, and they are generally too noisy for conversation, but I figured this was a reasonable place to grab a meal and read a bit while I waited. I am working through The Sun Also Rises, and a steak that quite possibly came from a bull that chased Hemingway through the streets of Pamplona. I'm no food snob, but this is dreadful. Met a very nice couple from Ohio though, whose daughter just moved to town. That was nice.
Ah well, I suppose I should not complain, not after the week that you’ve had. For so long, at least politically, it seemed like you could do no wrong, but this week it looked like you were dancing the DC Two Step with three left feet.
Don't let it get you down. Everybody has bad streaks, and everyone makes a mistake now and then. That said, I was rather disappointed by the revelations about your failed maneuvers in the Pennsylvania Senate race; you know, having former President Clinton try to prod Joe Sestak out of the race so your pick, Arlen Specter, might win. We all know now that Sestak said no and went on to soundly whip your chosen candidate.
I must say this type of thing has always disappointed me, whether it is done by Democrats or Republicans, and certainly both sides have tried such tricks plenty of times. I’m a big boy and I know politics is a rough, dirty game. But when either party tries to openly to stack the deck even before we get a chance to vote, it always feels as if they don't really believe in one of the cornerstones of our democracy: the right of the people to choose. No, that’s not really it. I guess it’s more like this: When you, or anyone else tries to manipulate whom we get to vote on, it feels like you do not trust voters to make a good choice on their own. It’s like you asked us to believe in you, but you don’t believe in us.
Anyway, it really is a shame that you had to toss that stick onto the wagon this week too, when you have so many there already. (And please note that I’m not even mentioning that whole white-shirt-and-slacks on the oily beach business. Who picked that outfit? I know you own some jeans. I saw them at that baseball game. Certainly your vaunted advisors must have at least mentioned looking a little more like a working person and a bit less like a visiting politician, didn’t they?) But like I said, hang in there. I know my letters have been a shade tough this week, but when times get bad, they’ll usually get better soon enough. And after this week, I kind of think you have nowhere to go but up.
Time to go pick up the prom kids. Call if you wish. Always nice to hear from you…or I assume it would be.
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