Dear President Obama

Dear President Obama,

How are you? That’s nice. I’m pretty good too. Last week I stumbled upon a really amazing vintage shop in Collingwood, and found Dior tights from the sixties for twenty bucks! I didn’t buy them, but just the fact that I discovered such a fashion wonder really made my day. So I guess I’m doing pretty well, thanks for asking.

To be perfectly honest Mr. President, I have an ulterior motive in writing this letter to you (not that I don’t want to know about your general wellbeing...I really do care). And that is to beg you to reconsider your decision not to visit Australia. I assure you your honour (is that what I’m supposed to call you, your honour?) I would not write unless I felt like it was extremely necessary. The happiness of our Prime Minister is in your hands. And he is a fragile man.

Now I understand that you are a nice guy. You laugh a lot, make inappropriate jokes like the rest of us and love a ciggie on the side.

You don’t cheat on your wife like this guy:



Deliberately lie to your countrymen like this guy:



Or generally alienate ¾ of the world’s population by acting like a gun toting moron who watched a little too much “Rambo” and not enough “Gandhi”:



Oh, I mean:

 

 You have a cute family, a puppy and genuinely seem to be making some positive changes in a country that a while ago seemed to be a drain on the rest of the world. They like you! I like you! University students will be wearing your t shirt for years to come (Che Guevara would be livid). In fact your likability factor as that cool guy everyone wants to be friends with, is actually at the core of the problem.

I understand that you’re busy. America is full of crazies who are constantly trying to bring you down (and get you to say something that is vaguely socialist *gasp*). And trying to introduce National Health Care, ok that whole thing has gotten a little hairy. Maybe Australia hasn’t sculpted a bronze statue of you as a boy ala Indonesia:

But this should not be taken as lack of enthusiasm for your visit. We are a shy nation who doesn’t want to make the first move! We’re not going to go in for the pash before you give us some flowers.

Anyway Mr. President I digress. Although your reason for staying in the land of the brave and home of the free is understandable, there is a silver haired man that, while putting on a brave face, is nursing a hole in his heart. Sure he acts all nonchalant like he hasn’t been planning for your visit for months, but I assure you that like a bride left at the altar, this is one rejection that he will never forget. What about Kevin Rudd Mr. President?

Let’s face it, everyone wants a piece of the Obamainator, but Australian prime ministers in particular have always looked to the U.S for their BFFL. But Ruddy is missing out on this opportunity. This is a guy who was probably called a dweeb a lot at school, sat in the front row in class and never swapped his nutritious sandwich for a Roll Up. It’s safe to say that he would be thoroughly looking forward to the Jock of world politics throwing him a diplomatic bone.  But instead Ruddy has been left disappointed. Probably reading “He’s Just Not That into You”. And listening to this song on repeat.