President Barack Obama sent me a personally addressed happy Thanksgiving Day message in the most intimate way available these days, via an e-mail from one of his advisers. He’s still not giving me his personal address, the one that goes to the BlackBerry.
It is personal, though. It says “Steven –” at the top, which is very difficult to fake. And he knows how much I love to see two hyphens right next to each other. It gets me to prattling away and making everything all oogy.
He talks about how Americans will be sitting down together, counting blessing, giving thanks, overeating, renewing old feuds and restraining orders, laughing at the Detroit Lions and the Oakland Raiders, etc.
Eventually he starts writing about people who can’t break bread with family because they’re overseas or working “second” jobs. Apparently he has no sympathy for those whose “first” jobs require them to work tomorrow, like cops, convenience store clerks, criminals and South Kitsap reporters. Frankly I didn’t know there were any second jobs available.
Fortunately, Diamond Parking is taking the day off, so Chris Henry can park out in front of the building.
Finally, the president gets really personal, and not in an offensive way. He didn’t bring up that open wound I still have from that surgery in March, or my weight. He did write:
“You have been there through victories and setbacks. You have given of yourselves beyond measure. You have enabled all that we have accomplished — and you have had the courage to dream yet bigger dreams for what we can still achieve.”
Yep. I still dream of another championship for the Los Angeles Dodgers, and that those Warren Avenue parents (present company excluded) would stop complaining about my friends in North Perry.
You can read the president’s message after the jump and pretend he sent it you. That’s my Thanksgiving Day gift to you.