Dear Don Letter #1

Dear Don,

Don’t hold your breath, sir. 

See how polite? So nice, with the sir and all. Very nice. Very special, like a world jewel, like the New York Times.

Believe me.

I mean, of course, don’t hold your breath while you’re waiting for the cast of Hamilton to apologize, or for the CIA to back down, or for the National Park Service to come around and your cabinet picks to come around and the 65 million people who would’ve preferred a nationwide lottery as a way to pick a “president” to come around to your dye-poisoned weltanschauung.

Sorry, Don, you’ll need to look that up–but no rush; you actually ain’t got one of those.

On second thought:

Do Hold Your Breath

In fact, that’s what I meant all along believe me.

See, here’s the current situation, obviously not great.

  • The USA has NEVER EVER won a worldwide breath-holding competition.
  • We could have IF we’d had beautiful leadership.
  • You are a beautiful leader. Well, OK, on the inside, right? That’s what they call the beauty part, yes?

Since you’ve always been one of those who lead by example, I’m counting on it. And here’s the sort of a plan on a napkin version of how I envision this working:

Go into, let’s say, the Jackson bedroom in your new crib. (Oh, there’s not one of those? Really any room will do, even like the one Elvis was in at Graceland when he, you know…never mind.) Take a stopwatch in there with you. Maybe you could borrow the one Mel keeps under the mattress, but the fact of the matter on the ground at the end of the day is that LOOK: that whole deal with the stopwatch was just her trying to be funny, imitating something she saw on a re-run of Love American Style when she was learning “English,” and it had nothing to do with anything. Nothing. There’s no problem. Believe me.

Start out with just a medium amount of hyperventilating, maybe by imagining a couple of dishonest reporters 15-20 feet in front of you. On your first couple tries, take it easy, maybe hold your breath for, like, 8-9 minutes tops–remember, this is just to start getting a feel for your natural capacity, which I’m assuming is tremendous.

You, after all, are someone who gets it.

Next, add water, which the breath-holding experts say helps to incentivize boundary-busting performance in competition. They also say that deeper is better, but it’s fine to just practice in your Jacuzzi. Also, it’s important to relax the lungs, so even though I know you’re no fan of the grape, have a glass of Cristal, or a handful of muscle relaxers.

Oh, sure, I’m anticipating your question: it’s OK if Mel joins you for this practice session. She’ll be very proud of the progress you’ve made in yet another field of endeavor.

Now, time to start ramping it up.

Imagine for a minute that you’re golfing with Little Marco, Lyin’ Ted, and Barack Hussein Obama. In the gallery, Miss Teen USA finalists, screened for anorexia. No no, screened FOR anorexia, to assure they’re not the type that’ll win and then start with the trouble.

You “accidentally” drop your approach shot on 14 into that really deep water hazard with the Koi in it.  “I got this” says you…

14 minutes later, when emergency services have been summoned by those of little faith, you surface, POTUS ball held high. And most impressive of all?

The hair is perfect.

Obviously, the sky’s the limit. And imagine the headlines when you go lung to lung with that Danish loser:

“President” Bests All Breath-Holder Pros, Leaves Former  Champ Melancholy, Indecisive Regarding Rematch

Ooh, speaking of the sky, maybe next you could work in a leap from a record-breaking height into the ocean. D’you dig Red Bull, Don?

Just you and your Crocodile Dundee knife and a few sharks.

The ratings for that one? YUGE!

Gotta run, Don, but lemme know what you think,

Bad Thad

P.S. By the way, I almost forgot. My buddy says that what was really in all those “divestiture” folders was the first alphabetic third of your Enemies List. Is that for real, or just an alternative fact?