Dear Congress

Dear Congress, and by Congress, I include you, Senators McCain and Obama:

I can't sew.  I know -- that's just not what you're thinking about right now, is it? But maybe it should be.  You see, if we plunge to a Depression, like that crazy guy from MSNBC keeps saying, I won't be able to make my clothes, as they did in the 1930s, and then I'll have to spend a good part of my adult life naked. This actually would affect you, as I'm no spring chicken, and, as any good academic, am rather pale.  Not pleasant.

Speaking of chickens, I've recently discovered my parents/grandmother own a dilapidated farm in East Texas. I have decided if you can't pull yourself together, I'm going to have to give up my academic career, because colleges will surely be one of the first institutions to go, since they don't feed or clothe people.  That means I'll have to move to this farm and grow hens.  As every good farmer knows, you don't "grow" hens, you raise them, which tells you how much trouble this is going to be for me and my family.  Having grown up 10 miles from the Pilgrim's Pride plant, I have to say that farming would be unpleasant.  Congress, have you ever smelled a chicken farm?  I swear to you that if you screw up this economic bailout, as it appears you seem determined to do, I will find each and every one of you, bring you to my chicken farm, and rub your nose in the dirt.  Because that is basically what you've done to me.

Dear legislators, it's time for you to stop playing with me for your political gain. We all know that you, Republicans, rejected the bailout so that you could, upon running for reelection, say you rejected it.  But this is a cruel game. Perhaps the bailout wouldn't have worked; perhaps it was a terrible plan.  Anyone who's lent money to a gambler has their doubts about giving $700 billion to banks who clearly have bad decision-making skills.  But I'm not sure that's why you said "no," and that makes me angry.  Democrats, you're just as bad.  It may be a partisan issue for you, but it's a home loan for me. It's a car loan for my friend; it's a college loan for my students.  If I buy the paranoia, it could cost me my paycheck if my employer can't get the funding to meet payroll.  

And if I sound a little frantic, Congress -- if I sound needlessly worried -- that's because you've spent zero amount of time telling me just what this really means for me.  Just because you use the words "main street" doesn't mean you know what's happening here; and as a result, neither do we.  

In short, Congress, I'd like to slap you in the face.  Not figuratively -- I think you all need a good hard whack across the nose.  I would like to volunteer my services.  And when you've come to your senses, I'd like for you to reach across the aisle and figure out a plan that keeps our banks from failing completely.  Because I've got a gunny sack, but I've no idea what to do with it.  

Sincerely,

Kacy