Ancient History

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An open letter to all serious Presidential Candidates*

Dear Presidential Candidate,

I’d like to extend an invitation to dine at my home, with my family, at your earliest convenience.

I am an unaffiliated, undecided voter. I am generally suspicious of anyone who wants to be President. It is unforgiving, thankless, aging, stressful, dangerous, and I honestly believe you have to be all sorts of crazy to want this job.

Why come to dinner at the home of someone who thinks you are nuttier than the pecan pie we’ll have for dessert? (if Costco has them in stock)

Because I will learn so much about you. With six kids, a frantic dog, and an important fish, you will be challenged when you cross our threshold. You’ll enjoy toy demonstrations, scar stories, a child-led grand tour, and some sort of roast with veggies and biscuits—or, with enough notice, I might drag the crockpot out and make some rocking chili. Your security detail can do a sweep of our home for hazards, but I can save them some time by letting you know to avoid the kids’ bathroom.

Otherwise, you’ll have time to relax in shabby-chic splendor. When I say “shabby-chic” I don’t mean we have a $10,000 dining room table that looks like it was painted by a drunken tornado or curtains made out of an 1880s western brothel’s bedsheets. We have some chic stuff, but most of it is shabby—lived in, loved, comfy, replete with Cheetoh-finger prints.

We are middle-class and we believe in strength tempered by mercy. Strong education, health care, national security, a realistic energy policy, and a brave economic outlook rolled together and sealed with a tender but smoochy kiss would make us giddy. We recognize sincerity, are annoyed by theatrics and posturing. We want someone who will stand up to bullies but won’t be a bully. I’d love to find a candidate who will inspire oil prices to fall so I can stop talking to myself as I pump gas.

Ultimately, we want someone who can and will restore respect to the office—to make it a position moms and dads would be proud to see their children reaching to attain. Personally, I’d be horrified to be the mother of the President as it stands now. Change that for me. If I think you can, you’ve got my vote.

A few details as you plan your campaigning schedule: we live in a suburb of Denver, conveniently located near Rocky Mountain Metropolitan Airport, “minutes to the city, the mountains, and an average of 300 days of sunshine per year…what are you waiting for?” says their marketing team. They can accommodate big jets, and you can purchase carbon offsets in nearby Boulder. I hear they sell them on street corners.

So, what are you waiting for? Come to my house for friendly din-din and a little scrutiny. We allow feet up on the coffee table and if you come on a Friday or Saturday night, we’ll play Wii. And we won’t erase your Mii after you leave.

Thanks for considering our dinner invitation.

Of voting age,


*serious Presidential candidates defined as someone who has participated in a nationally televised debate, not some drive-time DJ “running for President” on the platform of colder beer for everyone.

17 comments to An open letter to all serious Presidential Candidates*

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