MR., SIR, YOUR EXCELLENCY, PRESIDENT BIDEN,
Yo. It’s your boy, Archie P, back with another letter.
Did you miss me, man? I know you never responded to my first letter back before the DNC, or to my second letter when you folks decided not to come to Milwaukee, and you’ve never in any way acknowledged me or the magazine even slightly, but I also know that’s just part of the whole “I’m the leader of the free world. Look at all my dignity,” thing you have to do to keep up appearances. I’m sure you’ve been super busy getting elected and swearing the oath and being the President and whatnot, too. I get it. Totally. My feelings are in no way hurt.
So for the past couple months, I’ve pretty much just been waiting for you to send me something back. (I’ve been told that triple-texting looks really “desperate” and “pathetic,” and “Archer, I was only nice to you because I’m a waitress at Chili’s. It’s literally my job. Leave me alone.”) But I just couldn’t wait any longer when I heard that you were finally, for real this time, going to come to Milwaukee.
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On Tuesday, Feb. 16, the Pabst Theater is going to host you for a town hall with some small-time journalist I don’t think anyone’s even heard of — Anderson Hooper, something like that. Not sure you made the right choice of host there, Joe. I realize that my masculine energy and boundless charisma can be intimidating, but my questions would have been fair and thoughtful. I guess we’ll have to see how this amateur Andy does in my stead.
But heck, I’m excited you’re making the trip. We were pretty heartbroken after losing the DNC this summer, after all that build-up. I’m certainly pleased that for your first official trip since the inauguration, you’ve chosen our fair city. Many thanks, Big Joe!
Now that you’re finally here I’d like to refer you back to my first letter, where I recommended a bunch of cool Milwaukee stuff for you to do while you’re here. If you have time now, maybe give something a go. The Art Museum looks great on a winter night with all that snow around. Also, we now have bear sculptures in Cathedral Park that are pretty cool. The Mitchell Domes are arguably even cooler in winter, because you can hop into a little desert right in the middle of the frozen city.
You ever had a paczki? Hold on, are you Polish? Let me google this. I know we’re best friends, so I should probably know this, but one sec.
Google says you’re American. Should have guessed.
Well anyway, paczki is a Polish donut filled with jelly. It’s a big thing around here on Fat Tuesday, which is the day of your town hall. There’s a bunch of places nearby that sell them. National Bakery and Deli is a famous one, Aggie’s Bakery, Peter Sciortino’s, Cranky Al’s. I’ve never had one because I eat a diet of exclusively coffee, cigarettes, and ground chuck to maintain my chiseled physique, but I’ve heard they’re quite enjoyable, and there’s nothing more Milwaukee to eat on Fat Tuesday.
I’m glad that you’re last fun day will be in Milwaukee, because the day after your town hall is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of a season of repentance and austerity for Catholics like us. Did I not mention before that I’m also Catholic? Well, I am. Just another reason we should hang out more. If you’re going to be in town for Mass that day (or maybe you want to pop in for a quick confession), we have a beautiful basilica on the south side, St. Josaphat’s.
After you do the whole worshipping thing, we can swap stories about giving stuff up for Lent. One time I gave up hot showers. Then I realized that cold showers are unpleasant. Then I just stopped showering. It was fun.
So anyhoo – those are a couple new suggestions I have for you. Hope you’re doing good, my guy. Being President must be pretty wild, I bet. Keep your ear to the ground, and your head in the clouds.
P.S. Pete Buttigieg? Are you kidding me? I’m so much better at transportation than that guy. I drive my car, like, once a week. I’ve been on planes. Boats, too. Dude, you know I was vying for that secretary position, and it’s kind of cold that you just give it to some guy from Indiana and don’t even call me back. Whatever, man.
P.P.S. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Can I please still be the ambassador to Norway?