Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: WEDNESDAY, June 8, 1994 TAG: 9406080057
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Ben Beagle
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
Dear Mr. President:
I'm not going to be coy about this and say that this is the first letter I ever wrote to a sitting president.
I've written to several, and some of my friends who have these really great senses of humor say that I'm old enough to have written to William Howard Taft.
I haven't gotten an answer from a president yet, except that I did write a column in which I shamelessly solicited George Bush for one of those caps that said "White House Tennis" above the bill.
George wrote me a letter - which was suitable for framing - and said he didn't have any caps to give away. Oh, well. I was never one of the thousand points of light, either.
I'm not bitter. It's just that I think Bill Taft would've sent me a hat.
If you have any hog hats around, you might pop one in the mail, but this isn't why I'm writing this letter.
(On second thought, forget the hat, Mr. President. Such a gift might well be taken as bribe to a powerful, ruthless columnist who controls public opinion and can make or break your wife's health plan. A hog hat is not all that big a deal, but we have to be careful these days.)
This letter is by way of inquiry into comments you made after that clown used the presidential helicopter to hit a few balls up in Maryland.
Some of us wonder where you get these people.
You should be thankful your wife isn't into designer clothes.
It's my recollection that on one occasion you said this 13 grand or so would be paid back to the taxpayers. Later, you said the taxpayer wouldn't have to pay a "red cent."
I am hoping that you will be paying us a little something. There are many of us who could use a little extra bread right now.
I, for example, stand to be ruined because I over-ordered knit shorts on my credit card. I have a dazzling array of shorts, but this is not the kind of stuff you wear to bankruptcy court.
I know this sounds kind of kinky, but I couldn't stop myself, Mr. President. I just ordered and ordered before I came to my senses.
Sounds like I might fit in at the White House. Ha. Ha. Know you don't mind a little joke, sir.
I'll be waiting to hear from you, Mr. President. Boy, can you imagine how big a cap saying "White House Tennis" would have been on the City Market?
Sincerely, Bennie Beagle
by CNB