My letter to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue

Deear Mr. President,

You said repeatedly in the debate last night that "it's hard work." Whether you were talking about Iraq or your own position, I agree with you.

It's all hard work. But all your grousing suggests to me that you probably aren't up to it, and that you don't really want it. Someone who's up to it doesn't spend his first presidential debate complaining.

So I have a proposition for you. The life of an ex-president isn't a life of want, and even if it were, we all know your extended family and their friends can provide for you. They're good for it. What I'm asking is that you concede this election. No longer will you have to bear the weight of the world.

And there's no shame in it, either. Your father served one term. He seems to be doing all right. What with skydiving into his 80s, he's really sort of an inspiration.

We all know being president is hard on you. Why, your hair seems to get lighter every year (except around the time you make a speech, but that's another story). It's a simple proposition, Mr. President. You retire to Crawford or Kennebunkport, and the rest of us don't have to worry about having such an overwhelmed president. Sir, no longer will the demands of statecraft have to interfere with your napping schedule and jogging regimen.

I hope you take this letter to heart and consider it with the same seriousness with which you considered stem cell research in 2001.

Thank you and God Bless,

Poop Ruiz