Almost struck me dead

by David Grand
October 16, 2003

No, not by a car, a falling tree or lightning bolt, but by a letter I received the other day in a large 12" by 10" manilla envelope from, of all places, the White House. Only getting a letter from the Vatican, the U.N. or from my ex-wife would've been more unexpected.

I didn't open it right away, figuring that it undoubtedly contained a request for a contribution to the president's campaign fund, as I'd gotten for Clinton's campaigns. But I discounted that possibility, since theirs came in letter-size envelopes, and weren't sent by first class mail. Plus, requests for money sent from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, D.C. would've been sent only to registered Republicans, not to lifelong Democrats like me.

I became so curious at to what was inside the envelope, that rather than tearing it open, I carefully opened a small corner with my letter opener and peeked inside, not that I really suspected that it might contain a letter bomb or anthrax particles that some terrorist had mailed me in a stolen White House envelope. But as U.S. Attorney General John Ashcroft warns us, we must remain ever-vigilant to possible terrorist attacks, including against private citizens. However, I viewed the chances of them singling me out as a target was as unlikely as catching rain in a thimble.

So then, "throwing caution to the wind," I boldly opened the envelope and carefully pulled out the contents, and found, not one, but two letters bearing the White House letterhead. The covering letter was from a Sydney R. Johnson, Director of Correspondence for the First Lady. In it, he apologized for the excessive delay in responding to my correspondence to her, which he said "had only recently arrived in a large shipment of mail delayed for over a year, due to the screening process." I was at a loss to remember what correspondence he was talking about. But then some dormant brain cells woke up to remind me that I had written to her nearly two years ago, enclosing a copy of my column, titled: "An Impostor in the White House."

While most readers automatically assumed I was zinging Bush for stealing the election from Gore, in reality I was referring to their having the nerve to bestow the same name on their new Scottie as my six-year old Scottie, Barney (not that I could claim proprietary rights for that name). Also enclosed in my letter was a picture of my loyal friend and his true love Bonnie, a Sealyham terrier, who dominates him, like women do in most marriages.

But I was both astounded and pleasantly surprised to see that the other White House letter was written and signed by the First Lady herself; to wit: "Barney is intrigued to learn that there is another Scottie with the same name living so close to the White House. Spot finds it hilarious, because Barney always thinks he is unique. Thank you for sending me the clever column and the photograph of your Barney. He is beautiful!" She also enclosed a photo and bio on "Barney Bush," who was given to her and the president when he was a puppy, by the former Director of the EPA Christine Todd Whitman in 2000. (It was big of her not to take him back when she was eased, not too gracefully, out of that post.)

Well, between receiving that lovely letter from the First Lady, and being called his "pal" by Governor Ehrlich at a bill signing ceremony (for Del. Donald Elliott's bill) this past May, I'm leaning more and more towards switching parties, albeit that I vowed to Sen. Larry Haines I'd consider it only after I had a sex-change. But it's for sure, that no Democratic "biggies" ever paid me a kind word, in writing or in person, or even recognized my existence. However, my Democratic heritage may stop me from taking such a drastic step in my twilight years.

But regardless of what my ultimate decision is, I hereby declare a moratorium, to remain in effect throughout the balance of this calendar year (but not a day longer), on writing any columns criticizing my Scottie-loving president and my bosom pal in the governor's seat, with the following stipulation: This moratorium should not be construed, however, to mean that I am, in any way, rescinding what I've said in past columns regarding any and all stupid and humongous mistakes they've made to date. (Maybe I should take a hiatus from writing for the remainder of the year to enable me to keep that promise.)