Hello Dear Readers,

Below is my last letter to President Trump, which means that I will no longer be adding to this blog.

You can find me at my new address ~ https://thebidenletters.com/ ~ where I will be posting letters to President Biden more days than not (though not every day!).

Thank you to everyone who has ever visited the Daily Trump Letters site. You are a small but mighty band and there were definitely days I faltered and might well have abandoned my daily correspondence commitment had it not been for you all.

May we all be safe as we venture forth.
May we be willing to do the work we need to do.
May we be strong for one another and for the planet.
May we accept that we are all precious and deserve dignity and respect.

Sincerely,
Tracy Simpson

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Donald,

Here we are on your last half-day in office, just under two hours before it’s officially not your office anymore. You might think that I’ve been saving up a ton of stuff to tell you in this last letter or that I’ve come up with some clever, pithy way to end it. Well alas, I’ve barely had time to plot out the timing of getting this last message out to you before noon EST and then watching our new President and Vice President take their respective oaths of office. (I’ve taken the morning off from work so don’t fuss at me about the Hatch Act.) So no clever pre-planned pith today – if anything resembling clever pith does surface, it’s just luck.

I did ponder the idea of telling a “Once upon a time” story, starting with how this weird, pretty unhinged guy, an avowed racist and misogynist, declared his intention to seek the presidency gliding down a cheesy gold-plated escalator and ending with that same guy taking the early copter out of Dodge to avoid the embarrassment of being arrested at high noon ‘o-one on the Capitol steps. The problem is that the middle parts of the story are so awful that they’d make a Brothers Grimm fairy tale look absolutely tame, even the one where children are abandoned and a witch sets upon fattening them up to eat them. And besides, the rest of my one-sided correspondence to you covers much of that interior territory. So really, full on story telling isn’t the way to go this last morning. I will say though, that I love (as in really, truly love) that as you slithered away you said “we will be back in some form.” Are there no filters anywhere in that left frontal cortex of yours? You left yourself so wide open with that one. “Some form” indeed.

Which leads me to my last story for you. I decided to stick with my morning walk routine this morning despite having taken the morning off to watch the “new day dawning” festivities and headed north on the arterial in front of our house. Two blocks up I noticed a rather large, dumpy looking box sitting in the middle of the northbound lane. I couldn’t tell whether it was empty but it seemed like it could endanger drivers if they were to try to avoid it so I decided to move it to the sidewalk. Well, ‘lo and behold – when I got close enough to see what it was I discovered it was an XXL size box of clumping cat litter. No shit, really – I’m not making this up. The box was damaged when it fell off of whatever truck was carrying it and the product was leaking out the side. There’s now a nice trail of clumping cat litter from the middle of the street across to the sidewalk.

So here we go – the universe served up the perfect coda to your despicable run of violence against US and against the world – clumping cat litter, something one would use to clean up and contain shit, something one could use to make slippery sidewalks passable, something one wouldn’t ever think to pair with a POTUS but that demonstrates you didn’t break either the universe’s or my sense of humor. Clumping cat litter is also the perfect thing to take care of whatever disgusting “form” you might assume, so we’ve got that angle covered too. Whoot!

Before signing off, I want to let you know that we took a vote in our family and unanimously decided to affirm that you are a bad sport, which in our family, is the harshest thing one can be accused of. It doesn’t begin to cover your sins, but to be a deemed a bad sport is really damning and you sir, were and are a very, very bad sport.

May we be safe from anyone who thinks it’s a good idea to emulate you.
May we be willing to remember and confront what we need to remember and confront.
May we hold strong and steady through this transition.
May we accept we have much, much work to do.

Sincerely,
Tracy Simpson