Dear President Elect DJT,
When I was in eighth grade, I ran for class president. I had no experience whatsoever, and to be quite honest, I actually forgot I even applied. Two days prior to the one and only debate, a teacher called me and reminded me that I had a speech to give. This was problematic. I was neither good looking or popular. My teeth were weird. I had lame shoes. I was in the band. I had no understanding of student
government.
Luckily I came to the understanding, as most ruthless politicians do, that I just needed to do one thing to get me elected president. I needed to lie. Lie right through my weird teeth. I remember writing in extraordinarily sloppy cursive this one page manifesto, that our school was to have a pop machine in the lunch room and more school dances. I sold this platform to a gymnasium full of agreeable junior high children. They fervently believed me. They cheered. I did my best Mussolini chin impression.
I won the election. I won by a lot. There wasn't even talk of rigging. Honest. Mr. Derue, the teacher in charge of our government, ran a tight ship and would have none of it We used the same voting machines they used for actual elections in my town. It was a big deal. If you check the microfiche, I might even have been in the newsletter. Seriously. Look it up.
Being president sucked. Not only did I not come through with my pop machine promise, every other Friday I had to have my lunch in a classroom to talk about a government I had no power over. It wasn't at all what I signed up for. This was eighth grade. Girls were growing boobs. How the hell was student government going to increase my chance of touching boobs? Remember, I was in band. I was lanky. The outlook was grim.
Anyway, the only thing I can safely say I actually did in those trying times was make the theme for the year’s Semi Formal “November Rain,” the immortal classic from Guns n Roses (You’re welcome, class of 1998. That song was money and you know it.). It was a hit. We decorated the gym with raindrops.
My point, Mr. President Elect, is that I have experience in government. I’ve been there. Since politics is new for you, I thought I’d give you two pieces advice that I learned during my administraion.
Don’t ever promise a pop machine. In this crazy American experiment, there are some things even presidents can’t do.
Come through with something that will help every American. Like dances with “November Rain” as the theme.
I hope this reaches you well. I really hope you realize that you have to leave the lunch room.
Sincerely,
Dan Beers
P.S. When I realized I was losing my hair, I just started to shave it. Just something you should probably think about.