Dear Faux-President Trump:
I don’t like you very much. Let’s get that out of the way up
front. I could list my reasons why, but that would take most of the day, and I’ve
got a lot on my mind. You could read this blog to find out, but I know you don’t
like to read, so that’s out of the question.
Even though I don’t like you, I am an American and I care about this country, and unfortunately, you happen to be the president right now, so I want to offer some suggestions that will solve two problems at once. First, they will make you appear to be somewhat presidential – and don’t you think it’s about time for that? – while actually making America great, as you promised you would do.
They say you like for things to be kept short and simple, so I’ll throw in some e-z-2-read bullet points to keep you from drifting off. I also know you like to see your own name a lot, and I’ve got that covered, too. So put down the phone and listen up, Donald J. Trump, because this is very important. Your future could be riding on it.
They say you like for things to be kept short and simple, so I’ll throw in some e-z-2-read bullet points to keep you from drifting off. I also know you like to see your own name a lot, and I’ve got that covered, too. So put down the phone and listen up, Donald J. Trump, because this is very important. Your future could be riding on it.
I offer these suggestions free of charge. You won’t have to
pretend you’re going to pay me and then stiff me later.
* First off, Donald J. Trump, for the love of god, stop the tweeting.
Stop it right now. Instead, use your phone to call some doctors, nurses,
hospital administrators, the AARP, rural health clinicians, retirees, cancer
patients, children with life-threatening illnesses and military veterans with
catastrophic war wounds and invite them to lunch at the White House. Tell them
you want to write a new health care law that addresses their concerns, and
listen to what they have to say.
These are the people who will be affected if you repeal and
replace Obamacare, so let them tell you – Donald J. Trump – what they need.
Paul Ryan can’t help you with this; he doesn’t even understand how insurance
works. Mitch McConnell is an obstructionist and an empty suit. He can’t help
you, either. Once you understand how health care really works in this country,
you can get some of these smart people to help you write legislation that
might actually pass in Congress and do some good for the American people.
* Next, Donald J. Trump, ditch the chauffeured limousines and
golf carts you normally ride in and get yourself into a truck. Don’t just sit
behind the wheel and go “beep beep” for the photo op but throw on some jeans,
boots and a flannel shirt, sit in the passenger seat with a long-haul trucker
and head west toward California. Talk to the driver about his experiences
traversing the infrastructure of America. Check out the roads and bridges and toll
plazas the rest of us use and watch the trains that run alongside the highways.
You want to fix infrastructure, right? First, find out what it is and what it needs.
That’s the ticket, Donald J. Trump.
* When you get home, you’ll be ready to kick back and relax
with Sean Hannity and the other sexual molesters from Fox News, but you won’t
be finished just quite yet. Instead of Ted Nugent, Sarah Palin and the other village
idiots you have dined with recently, invite some homeless people over for KFC.
Get a few clients from the nearest Meals on Wheels chapter, a widow living on
Social Security and Medicaid and a single mother working three jobs at minimum
wage to feed her five small children. Have her bring along a couple of the
kids, too, Donald J. Trump, to tell you about the meals they get at school.
Make sure your budget director is there as well, so the two
of you can see the actual human beings who are affected every time you cut some
social program to give you and your 400 closest billionaire friends another reduction
in taxes. After dinner, you can start rewriting your budget.
* Finally, Donald J. Trump, give me a call here at home. I’ve
got a whole lot of other ideas that I think could really help you in this job. Full disclosure: I used
to be a journalist – you know, an enemy of the state – but I’m really not that
bad. I have a pretty good brain myself, a decent enough I.Q. and I know a
little bit about a lot of things. You see, I read, Donald J. Trump. When I want
to know something, I read. I could teach you how if you’ve got time, and I know
you do, judging by the number of rounds of golf you’ve been able to play since
your inauguration.
So ring me up, Donald J. Trump. I’m retired so I’m available
most any time. (Afternoons are best.) I can be there in a few hours, which will
give you time to fire Steve Bannon and the other neo-Fascists who have been
filling your head with treasonous nonsense for the past two years. Show him and
Priebus to the door, send your kids out for pizza and order me a couple of
bottles of cold Blue Moon. You’d like it. It comes with an orange.
We’ll sit down and come up with plan that really will make
America great. We might even get the rest of the world to like us again…but
that’s another whole letter. I’ll be writing that one to you soon.
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