Dear Don,
Sorry I haven’t written to you in a long time. You didn’t respond to my suggestion about the whole taking-back-the-breath-holding-world-title-making-you-obviously-an-American-hero thing, and for a while I figured you were just too busy with more sort of nuts and bolts president stuff. But somebody told me that you’ve been watching up to 10 hours of TV a day. Was that fake news? Even if not, of course, and you’ve been keeping up with current affairs, et cetera, nothing in the Constitution limits your power to watch as much TV as you want, right?
Either way, I’ve been surveying some of the other candidates who’ll be running for your office in 2020, suggesting the breath-holding deal as a way to build name recognition, prove they’re prepared to commit time and effort training to show the world NOBODY holds their breath longer than the U.S. of A. Y’know, most of them have not starred on shows or even been on TV that much before; maybe you could at least tell them, if you become close friends while waiting in a green room or something, how much exposure, good bad or indifferent, helps when you’re hoping to get a gig that involves fooling enough of the people long enough to get what you want out of ’em.
I might be getting a call from one of those potential candidates in the next few minutes, so I’ll keep this short.
(By the way, I’m writing to you on the day Manafort is convicted on 8 felony counts, and Cohen pleads guilty to 8 felony counts. Sheesh, and it seems like this might be an exception to that all-exposure-is-good-exposure idea.)
I want you to think about something, dude.
(And no, I would not go all informal like that if I thought you were anything like a legitimate president, as opposed to such a pure Unpresidented One.)
I’d like for you to review your life and see if you can figure out where you went wrong. Compared to the circumstances so many earthlings are born into, you had an awful lot of advantages. Think of everything you were dealt, and imagine it as a single hand of cards.
Really be honest, for a second, and see if you can dig what a beautiful, surefire winner of a hand of cards that was. Then, contrast that winning hand with the one everybody you’ve ever met was dealt.
Maybe there’s something no one but you can know about your life. But I would suggest that, overall, you were dealt a pretty darn good hand.
And here’s one of the many lessons that even the children’s version of your story will teach. It’s a life story, I reckon, that proves ol’ Heraclitus was right about a man’s character being his fate.
Even if all your cards are aces…
…they won’t make a good house.