Don’t go trying some new fashion

Don’t change the color of your hair

You always have my unspoken passion

Although I might not seem to care

— “Just The Way You Are,” Billy Joel

Dear Donald,

You don’t know me, but you’ve heard my name bandied about in many of the circles you move in. That’s not important at this point; I just want to tell you how much I adore you and your ideas. I’ve had my eye on you since you were a child.

The “handlers” that had been drawn to you because of your initial persona — the “crazy” Donald, the riot-inciting firebrand, the “bad guy” with the ladies — are rethinking their plans.

Now that you’re a star, and gaining attention, they’re worried; they want to change you. Are you kidding? You’re the guy who caught the country’s, and now the world’s, attention. You’re the provocateur with big exciting ideas that I fell in love with. You proudly say how much you love the “poorly educated,” as do I, and it is that group that truly understands you.

The religiously liberal say they love them too, but they’re just using the poor folks to fill their empty pews. You’re liberating them, elevating them to a master place in the coming new age, and I’m right beside you on that, Donald. I’ve had a great relationship with the “poorly educated” throughout history. Once you get them to their feet, as you have, there is no stopping them. They’ll march right beside you to the top.

Which brings me to this new bunch of striped suits around you; they’ve got me worried. I know these guys. Their hearts, using the word lightly, are in the right place; but as clever as they seem, they’re amateurs. I’ve worked with their kind for eons, and they always overstep and mess up, like, for example, Adolf Hitler, a man the politically illiterate compare you to. That’s absurd. It’s nonsense. He had none of your class or subtlety, and often overreached.

Right now, your new “handlers” are overreacting to the whining liberal media, who are saying, “He’s loud and vulgar. He debases women while pretending to love them. He’s a liar. He makes fun of the handicapped. He’s flamboyant and coarse.” They want you to change, Donald. They’re suggesting that you start acting more “presidential.” What exactly does that mean?

They want you to start channeling the white, intellectual Barack Obama, who pauses between each phrase, standing there thinking about what he’s gonna say.

By the way, that birther thing was brilliant. That caught my eye right away — it had just the right smidgen of provocation. And that mass expulsion of the undesirables? Delicious.

The move you made to toss that old lady into the street, and then employing the eminent domain trick? I loved that. The world is full of troublemaking little old ladies, is it not? But there’s only one Donald, and that’s the big guy America is falling in love with just the way I did.

Look at Bernie’s kids. They’re learning from you. Did you see the way they took over that liberal convention in Las Vegas? They threw chairs, made death threats and filled the Internet with great obscenities. Like your followers, they’re my kind of disciples, malleable and eager. (I pause to wring my hands in glee.)

Yes, Donald, you’ve got that macho swagger I’ve seen on countless ancient streets. Like my political heroes down through history, the ones the liberals and do-gooders demeaned and called “fascists,” “demagogues,” “tyrants” and ” bullies,” like Nero, Caligula, Peron, Franco, Mussolini. You induce a primal fever.

Some listened when I whispered into their ears; others just couldn’t make it work. You win some, you lose some, I always say.

You’re probably, at this moment, confused and wondering who I am, by what name I’m called. Ohhh, I’ve had so many names down through history, so many.

I’m just here to help, Donald, and as for me?

“I don’t want clever conversation

I never want to work that hard

I just want someone that I can talk to

I want you just the way you are”

Yours truly, Mr. Scratch.

J.P. Devine, a Waterville writer, will read from his book “Will Write For Food” at 6 p.m. Wednesday at the Belgrade Library.

Copy the Story Link