Wednesday, February 25, 2009
A Love Letter
Dear President Obama,
I watched you make your speech on the television last night, curled up on the bed with my youngest daughter and several of the dogs and I just, well, I just want to say that I think I might actually be in love with you.
Now don't worry. I'm not a crazy stalker or anything like that woman in Fatal Attraction (just the idea of boiling a bunny makes me think about how much trouble it would be to clean all the fur out of a pot, you know?) so I don't want you to to report me or give my name to the FBI or the CIA or the Secret Service or any of those governmental departments. I am not insane (on most days, not since I started taking the medication) and I am the happily married mother of four and besides that, I am no match for your wife in the areas of beauty, age brains or any other area for that matter (although let me ask you- how good of a cook is she?) and really, I have a tiny crush on her too. Did you see the way she hugged that little girl who wrote the Congress a letter about her school? I about died when she did that and that little girl was so obviously scared and shy and her eyes were as wide as saucers- the big kind you serve cake on, not the tiny kind you put under a teacup- but Michelle just held her hand and then hugged her up tight, both of them wearing shades of purple (was that planned?) and it was the sweetest thing I ever saw.
And I can tell, even from far away and when you're on the TV and I'm here in my living room, that you and Michelle are one hot couple and that's another thing that I love about you both- you don't seem to have forgotten what's important which is each other and your darling girls and I could go on about them all day, but really, I think you know what I'm saying, which is that your love for your family seems real, real, real and not fake like some of those politicians whose wives and children appear to me to be part of their political ambitions and tools like, oh maybe a really good briefcase or a good head of white hair.
But enough about all of that.
What I really love about you is the way you talk. You speak English so beautifully. I'm not going to mention any names of any former presidents (okay, the initials would be GWB, I don't even want to write out his whole name) but some of them (and I think you know who I'm talking about, don't you? Do I need to draw a picture? I don't think so but if I did, he would look like a monkey, only not quite as smart) made me feel positively sick to my stomach when they opened their mouths like the way you feel when you've been to the fair and have eaten some fried dough with sugar on it and a barbecued sandwich and a Polish sausage and maybe a fried Twinkie too, and oh, yes, then some kettle corn and THEN someone asks you if you'd like an ice cream sundae.
Yes. That is how George Bush (whoops!) made me feel every time he opened his mouth but when you speak, President Obama (I just like saying that) I feel like I could fall into your eyes and your words and drown in them, so to speak. You pronounce your words correctly and you use words that don't insult the intelligence of a four-year old and I just beg you to say nuclear because you actually do know how to say it and that just thrills me.
I mean, nuclear is a word that represents a lot of really, really big stuff, whether you are talking about energy or bombs and it worries the heck out of me when the president can't even say the word right because if he can't, how can he possibly understand the concepts behind it?
This is going on for far longer than I had thought it would.
But I can't help it. There's just so much to love about you. That tie you wore last night, for instance. It was red and white striped, like the flag behind you, but on the diagonal like a candy cane and...okay. I won't say any more about that. Clothes do not make the man but the man does make the clothes and you make clothes look fine. As does your wife, might I add.
And it's not just how you say things, but what you say. For instance, you talked about how the cost of war should be known and how we HAVE to get this health care thing straightened out and how parents need to understand that education begins AT HOME and how we can't bow to despair (I don't know if you said that or I just made it up, but it sounds good, doesn't it? you might want to use that sometime and I give you my permission) and how education has to be important and how all kids should stay and graduate high school and how we are not going to torture people and that you want to close down that prison in Cuba and almost everything you said made me feel like "Golly. At last someone is in charge who knows what the fuck they're talking about." Excuse me for using that word, but really, sometimes it's the only one that will do.
I swear, you couldn't have made me any happier unless you'd looked directly at the camera and said, "And, Mary Moon, you will be able to eat all the bacon you want without any weight gain or adverse health effects."
Well, that and if you'd said something about how ridiculous it is that we don't allow gay people to get married or serve in the military. I mean, really, come on. It's time to get our heads out of our butts on that issue.
Well, that's just my opinion.
So I guess I'll wrap this up now. I know you're a busy man and you have lots of things to attend to and I don't want you taking up any family time with unimportant things like love letters from fifty-four year old housewives, but I just wanted you to know that so far, I think you're doing a great job and please keep it up and don't dye your hair because I like how that gray is coming in and oh yes, one more thing.
Dang. You're handsome.
And I won't end this with LOVE because that's a mighty powerful word, but I guess I started it with love and this is a love letter but I don't want you to get the wrong idea.
So I'll just end it like this and please know I mean it from the bottom of my heart:
Gratefully and sincerely yours....Ms. Mary Moon (Who is thinking she's sort of proud to be an American for the first time ever in her life and thank-you for that, too.)
P.S. If you ever want me to come up to Washington and help you in any way, such as planning a garden or cooking delicious food for you and your family, please do not hesitate to call me. I will even pay for my own gas to get up there.
P.P.S. Your mama and your grandmama would be so proud of you that if they were alive, they would probably just die. That didn't come out right but really, if there is a heaven, they are the proudest people there. I can just see them, dancing on golden high-heels and snapping their fingers and hugging each other and besides that, there are a lot of mothers and grandmothers and aunties right here on earth who are doing the same thing- you just make us all so proud.
P.P.P.S. I had a dream about you last night and you were just as cute in the dream as you are in real life. Don't worry. It was not a perverted dream in any way. We were just chatting. I swear.