To: The Subpar Bogey Man

Before I launch into today’s letter for real, I need to tell you that a friend pointed out my terrible typo yesterday granting you another month in office. OMG – that was a big biff. To set the record straight – I know perfectly well that inauguration day is January 20, 2021 and not February 20, 2021. I will be watching the celebration with bells on, savoring every second of the spectacle introducing a new, build-back-better, era.

Now that I’ve cleared up yesterday’s mistake, I want to be sure you know that today’s salutation is purposely not referring to you as sub par since in your golf world that would actually be a good thing. I also decided not to freight the “bogey” part with triple or quadruple, etc. since I like the simplicity of the above salutation and how it sounds (at least in my head), but please feel free to insert whatever level of bogey happens to be commensurate with your mood, which I’m guessing is well down in the pits.

At least I hope it is – for your sake and for your karma’s sake. And yes, I’m petty enough that I do take some solace in the idea that you’re suffering, so there’s that. But the real reason I hope your mood is in the pits (and this does have to do with your karma) is that if you’re secretly feeling smug and self-satisfied then that would mean this whole deal with your loss and your nutso grasping at voter fraud straws is part of some nefarious plan to thoroughly trash democratic norms and (likely) set millions of your followers on the path to sedition.

I just checked and Vladimir’s birthday was October 7^th so this would be super late birthday gift if you’re pulling this shit for him. I wouldn’t put it past you, though, to have sent him a self-destructing note on his big day promising him an “experience gift” come November. If you did this or anything remotely like it, then I seriously doubt you’ll ever return in human form (i.e., the universe will have imploded before you go through enough karmic returns to earn the necessary merit to be granted human form again).

But enough about you. Literally. What I really want to say today is how utterly awesome it was to feel ok about reading actual news articles this morning. I’d read maybe four or five such articles before I realized I hadn’t made my usual beeline to the Editorial section, having skimmed past all the “Trump This” and “Trump That” noise that’s been the constant fare until Monday when Emily M finally pulled the plug on you. Hallelujah!

What a joy to read more about Biden’s national security picks and about the conjecture about why he hasn’t yet named a Secretary of Defense! How cool to consider the relative strengths of Carol Moseley Braun and Deb Haaland for Interior Secretary! It was also pretty neat to read the piece about Raphael Warnock and how he appears to have the GOP thoroughly freaked out because he’s so strong. This is an aside, but have you seen the hilarious ad where he’s walking his dog (a cute beagle) and casually telling the listener that he and his supporters knew the opposition would come after him with a smear campaign and then at the end comments “I think Georgians will see her ads for what they are — don’t you?” as he drops the poop bag in the garbage. Priceless!

The one bright spot pertaining to you is actually quite a big one and it’s one I had no idea you had in you…. You actually shut down the Pebble Mine plans to trash Bristol Bay. Whoot! Even though it was almost certainly because your son didn’t want to lose his favorite fishing spot, you might just get a half karma point for that.

May we be safe to read the news without worrying too, too much about our blood pressure.
May we be willing to give a bit of credit when it’s due.
May we celebrate the strong, diverse group of incoming leaders.
May we accept that we probably can’t really relax for a long time, but that things are looking up.

Sincerely,
Tracy Simpson