Dear President Trump — First, how the heck ARE you? Hope you’re catching up on much-needed rest and all’s hunky dory with you, your fam and loved ones. Just wanted to send a note of gratitude for your service in the White House.
Funny thing? Friends regarded me as certifiable after volunteering I’m writing you a thank you note.
“Publicly…?” one whispered.
Whispering. What odd behavior for something as stout as an American. Why, it’s as if someone were watching and threatening retribution.
Thanks for standing tall on watch DT, for a season at least, keeping the insane outside the castle walls. How tough your job must have been. Historians might look back and note: These were the years America turned ugly.
Heavens. The things you accomplished in 24 hours while closest associates grinned, Iago-like, plotting your demise, your family’s ruination. Lies about you rained enough to choke a planet-sized python. Accusations of crimes actually committed by your accusers were swallowed by a gullible public. Fawning talk show imbeciles sniggered about you and half the country. Like some hideous, snarling fisherwoman, always nagging and scolding, our leftist culture has become what it despised: The Man. It was like someone Xeroxed “The Hunger Games.”
The comedian George Carlin had it right: “Political correctness is fascism pretending to be manners.”
Counterpoint? Please pass along thanks to one of the most charming, inspiring first ladies ever, Melania Trump. What a gracious, high-class, intelligent delight. She never got her due.
We’ve fought world wars and survived depressions. We’ve shined light on the darkest spots of our soul and were healed for the effort, civil rights a big example. Who would have thought self-destructive insanity would be our nation’s biggest test? Monday to Sunday, you rolled up your sleeves. Red tape strangling the country? You cut it. A government stymied by Mandarin constipation? You worked to not only eradicate bloated bureaucracy, but also pruned it down to a useful size. You reminded that we have government of the People, by the People and for the People. Not Government of the Government, by the Government and for The Government.
Good. Darn. Hustle. Donald. J. Trump. Grateful for you.
I get my infinitesimal amount of hate mail, a couple of death threats and just the one assassination attempt. (Remember? That AYSO column from the ’70s? I sorta made fun of soccer and those prancing, grinning-out-of-context sissies who play it?)
My trials? Picayune. I marvel at your stamina, sense of humor and stick-to-it-ness, all while being America’s Most Hated, a title dishonest and unfair. I was humbled when, in 2018, you shook hands with EVERY cadet graduating from Annapolis. When you quietly gave that bus driver $10,000 after he saved a suicidal woman? There’s hundreds of anecdotes, hidden from view by a bile-filled media. Hate does build readership.
You’re one of our country’s best presidents. And all while your own people smile warmly, then slink off like Loki to ruin not just a random day, but every single one. This constant drumbeat of hatred? It’s not coming our way. It’s here.
From both sides, friends questioned my wisdom in writing a public thank you. “You nuts?!?! You’re gonna get — targeted!” That warning? From a Democrat.
I’m reading threats from his Peace, Kindness & Kumbaya Party that dwarf any George Orwell imaginings. Actors pen torrid fantasies of beating Trump supporters to death and Iranian mullahs are allowed to vent their assassination fantasies of former Oval Office renters.
Funny thing? I hear no ACLU outrage when public servants demand concentration camps for conservatives. It wasn’t just Cute Katie Couric who earnestly asked why Republicans shouldn’t be “deprogrammed.” A handful of social tech billionaires and their flying social justice monkeys are making war on free speech and opinion. There’s blacklists against hiring Trump supporters.
Refreshing. One Vision. One Insane Asylum.
Sadly, our side shares equal blame. What a time for the Right to misplace their cojones. Wouldn’t want to lose membership to the Internet Peep Show by complaining or The Brain Police might not deliver your Amazon package.
You did good, Donald J. Trump. More than. Especially with the call to Make America Great. It’s stunning the drowning chorus for: “Let’s Just Be Mediocre.”
Great? Even a Democrat newspaper columnist should aspire to write great things, to craft a powerful and resonant voice, to share his heart, soul and conscience. Different voices together can create America singing beautifully.
Can create. Will they?
I often ponder strange things and wonder about great civilizations that suddenly disappeared. The Olmecs long ago just up and walked into the jungle, by the hundreds of thousands, never to return. Something made great populations from India to the South Pacific disappear in a blink. Weather? War? Bad religious advice?
Historians might look back and note: These were the days America embraced insanity. And violently, viciously, turned on one another. It’s not like we’re drifting toward Civil War in America. We’re in it.
I’m not remotely a fan of President Barack Obama. But, what if a grandmama of color wrote a letter — publicly — singing all two of Barry’s praises? Should terrified friends whisper: “Beware of reprisal!!” or warn: “Don’t tell ANYONE for whom voted!!”
You see, Grandmother gets to, Everyone gets to, most importantly — I GET TO —write a thank you note to my president.
Not counting Lutherans, half the country feels I don’t deserve to have a job, a career, life, my opinion, my prayers, my family — for God’s sakes alive — The Way Station where I eat my breakfast.
This is America. I get to — be.
It can be uncomfortable, even dangerous, to stand up to the mean and insane in all their vainglorious Halloween costumes and shaming, distorted faces.
Donald J. Trump? Thank you. Thank you for standing up and not just getting the job done, but doing it under budget.
John Boston is a local writer.
