Nippy Katz (not his real name) sent me into an emotional tailspin after my last letter by suggesting that my relationship with you might be toxic. I rode out a long ewww, choked back a denial that we have a relationship, and then got scared. One-sided relationships do count and some people don’t differentiate between romantic and platonic relationships. I could be in trouble if Elaine, the LMPD, the FBI, or the secret service don’t differentiate and think along the same lines as Nippy.
What happened next surprised me. First, I want you (and Elaine, and the LMPD, and the FBI, and the secret service) to know that my obsession with you is purely platonic and my desired outcome political. If I were looking for anything else, I would compare you to Joe (also not his real name) and run as fast and far from you as I could get. Joe was my puppy love. He said he loved me and I was thrilled, although to me true love meant I held his hand while he carried my schoolbooks but I’m pretty sure he expected more. My heart (or maybe just my self-esteem) suffered greatly when I discovered Joe was also telling Patty (nope, not her real name either) that he loved her. He explained that he truly loved me but had to say the right words to her so she would give him ‘what he needed’. I bought it for a while because – well, I was young and stupid. Fortunately, I didn’t stay stupid forever. I broke up with him and decided never to be so gullible again.
On the platonic side, this is exactly what you’ve done this week. Same as Joe, you told Main Street you love them (“We won’t solve this problem until the biggest banks are allowed to fail”), and then tried to excuse away playing kissy face with Wall street (Please give me ‘what I need’ - campaign dollars - to protect you from the Democrats who want to stop you from – well, getting what you need from Main Street). I almost felt fourteen again, and not in a good way. However, this is a love letter so I refuse to stop on a negative note.
On the positive side, another old love called me after reading one of my letters to you in the newspaper. After all these years, who would have dreamed that our shared opinion of the job you aren’t doing would reunite us – and prove, finally, that I am not a black widow. His call, reminded me what real love feels like. He asked the right questions, made me laugh, reminded me of fun times, and most importantly confirmed my belief that real love is based on shared principles and selfless wishes for others. I was able to enjoy hearing about his new life and he didn’t begrudge paying for my Medicare with his tax dollars. Unconstrained by worn out adages and absurd social mores, we discussed politics and religion, and our ideal worlds without even thinking that we have to be just alike, have the same needs, or share a last name in order to want the best for each other. It was nice. Thank you for making it possible.
To bring this full circle, I remembered that my parents taught me that showing love was far more important than saying the words. I’ll withhold the words and continue to show my love for you continuing to vote for candidates who protect all of those wonderful gifts the Democrats have given you over the years. If you’d like to toss a little love my way, you can start by clearing up the confusing messages that make me compare you to Joe.
p.s. Thought you might get a giggle from this. I heard today that GE’s 2007 (not sure about the year) tax return was 24,000 pages long – almost as many pages as your last estimate on the Health Reform Bill.
The White House Debunks Senator McConnell's inane comments about financial reform.