From: gwb
To: Hank Blakely
Sent: Tuesday, January 25, 2001
Subject: About my simple speaking
 
Dear friend:
Once again I turn to my correspondence, keyboard in hand, to wish you good tidings and to resume my candid impressions of the day's transpirations.
 
HAH! Fooled y' didn't I? It was me all the time! But that's an example of how I'm learnin' to speak things better by takin' what y'call electrocution lessons from none other than Mr. George F. Will! Himself!
 
S' funny. I didn't used to like ol' George all that much. I guess because he's a famous newspaper calumnist and knows a lot about literature, politics and other types of thinkin' like that. But it turns out he knows a lot of manly stuff, too, like baseball and boxin' and racin'. Plus, it also turns out he's married!. So he doesn't make me near as nervous as he used to.
 
I'm guessin' George didn't exactly want this teachin' job so much himself. I heard him tell Dick C that backin' me in the campaign had just about ruined his reputation as an intellectual, and now he was afraid that "continued association would imperil (his) immortal soul as well"
 
But Dick told him that he guessed it was time to "call in a few chits" if he (George) knew what he (Dick) meant, and he (Dick) was sure that he (George) did. When Dick said that, George got even paler and stiffer, and finally agreed to do it. Later, George told me if they can teach pigs to find truffles, he guessed he could pull this off. I really like a man with a positive attitude.
 
But y'see, that's why I admire George so much. Take that thing about the pigs: that's what you call a "semaphore". A semaphore is when you say one thing but mean another. And I guess ol' George is just about the best semaphorist there is.
 
My first lesson was in "Continuity". George says that when you start a sentence with one thought, you should, he says, "strive mightily" to end it with the same one, even if, as I do, you kind of lose track of it halfway in the middle.
 
George has been real encouragin' to me. Everybody's been sayin' that I'm dyslexic or somethin' because of the way I say things. George says I'm no such thing. He says the way I put things is "evidence of a nearly perfect random thought process". He says that my thoughts are only loosely connected, and that's good because it keeps me "mentally limber". Then he flashes one a'them one-microsecond smiles that tells you he's just made a joke.
 
I like ol' George, but I got a feelin' there's a lot of winter in that man.
 
George says that I need to more focus my thinkin'. That's not gon'na be easy. I kind'a see thinkin' as like bein' in the middle of a big field of flowers, where you can pick any one you happen across. I think George sees it more like a railroad track where you're only allowed to pick the flowers you find between the rails. George says that's a surprisin'ly good semaphore, and that what I said was the hallmark of good conservative thinkin'. He says it's important to keep headin' straight down the track, too, and not to look to either side, because you might get distracted and lose your way. George says you should never look back, either, because the saddest thing he can imagine is lookin' back down the track and seein' all the things you missed on the sides.
 
That does sound sad, and it makes me glad that my life hasn't been anythin' like a track - just a big ol' highway where I can switch lanes anytime I want.
 
At any rate, I just wanted to let you know about my new lessons. I'll tell you more as soon as I learn it. Who knows, If I study real hard, I might one day become a master electrocutionist.
 
Wouldn't that be fine?
 
'Til next time,
W, P*
.
(*stands for "president". It used to be "P.E" for "president-elect", but now I'm a full "p"!)