You know, Mr. President, I've been solidly behind you for as long as I can remember. I defended you to all comers. I worked to defeat that old guy and the eye candy he hired all last summer and fall. I celebrated in November; I celebrated again last week, when you were inaugurated, even though you ignored my preferred choices for your Cabinet.
But it's been ten days now, and what have you done? Sure, sure, you announced the closure of Guantanamo; you proved that the House Republicans, at least, are inconsequential and uninterested in bipartisanship; you opened up the presidential archives to the public; you put your weight behind a stimulus package to move the economy forward; you reannounced plans to leave Iraq in sixteen months; you forcefully renounced torture; you signed the Ledbetter Act.
Big deal. The only thing I asked for in my submission to change.gov, the easiest thing in the world to do -- you haven't done it.
Every morning, I put on my bathrobe and go out to the road to get my newspaper. I look left when I leave the house, but up by the barn I see the same scene, every day: a Toyota Matrix and a Hyundai Elantra, both used.
I don't get it. Where's my unicorn?
If it's too hard for you, you can skip the spangles. I'll braid the tail myself, though some tack would be pretty useful, if you don't mind. I've already warned the vet that we'll need some special food, though he seems doubtful about supplies in these tough economic times.
In fact, Mr. President, it's winter here, and an unattended unicorn for any length of time might be a bad idea. I'll settle for Robert Gibbs making a statement promising us all unicorns as soon as the weather gets better. Even a vague promise of a special surprise in our dooryards in a few weeks will probably keep me on board.
But I'm warning you, Mr. President. I'm a patient man, but my patience is limited. Ten days, and you haven't done it. You go much longer, and I might consider voting for that eye candy next time around. Who knows what she'll promise to get elected?
I understand that you have a lot on your plate. As I told you in my change.gov submission, that only means you should attend to my needs first, as what I'm asking for is so simple.
Maybe you didn't read it. Here's your second chance. I'll assume it'll take a week or so -- maybe two, if you have to use UPS Ground. So I'll assume you can take care of this little matter by President's Day.
So here's the deal. Unicorn by the end of February, or there's no telling what I'll do.
Are we clear?