Dear Senator McConnell:
Several times over the last few days, I’ve heard clips of your Thelma and Louise comments. It’s embarrassing enough to hear your ridiculous, mostly untrue statements the first time. I still suffer a bit of PTSD over the static cling comments about a decade ago. Living with media repeats is torture and, unlike you and your party, your sane constituents don’t like torture. There’s a slight possibility that sharing my own Thelma and Louise story with you might be therapeutic, so I'm willing to give it a shot.
Debra was a Face Book friend first. We met in a support group for people who were suffering the devastation of having to live with your sidekick, Rand Paul. Adding Rand Paul to Mitch McConnell was very much like adding the secondary diagnosis of chronic fatigue to my already existing rheumatoid arthritis. I needed support.
After Rand Paul hired goons to stomp heads and refused to accept responsibility for that disgraceful decision, Debra and I met in person when we drove to Lexington together to attend the head stomper’s trial. In case you haven’t had the experience, it is such a pleasure to finally meet someone you have only communicated with on paper or via the internet, and discover that the real person behind the written word is every bit as intelligent, generous, passionate, and warm as you expected. (Seriously, you should agree to meet Debra and me sometime. Seriously – as in not pretending that you are finally willing to meet with everyone by scheduling a Tea Party event outdoors on the Capital steps where we have to risk our reputations or lives in order to maybe get to ask you a question that you can ignore in person.)
One of the big bonuses with Debra was that in addition to intelligent, generous, passionate, and warm, she is also lots of fun. We jumped into her cute little red car and cruised down the highway, chatting and laughing as though we’d known each other forever. Along the way, we phoned two more allies we were to meet in Lexington. It was almost like a party.
Excitement mounted as we neared our destination. When I neglected my map duties to check the posters in the back seat, Debra made a wrong turn. We laughed as we ended up in a parking lot with a one-way lane to an exit that would lose us even more. She looked at me and said, “Well, Thelma, do we break the law or go off the cliff?”
I said I wanted to be Louise, and I was okay with breaking the one-way parking lot law. She agreed and turned the car around.
Okay. I know my Thelma and Louise story has nothing to do with economics. But it is fun and honest so I beat you on at least two points. Your Thelma and Louise story is a dishonest pretense at a discussion about economics and it is neither fun nor honest.
Debra and I survived our wrong turn, made it to court, got a television interview, and got back home safely. I don’t think your trip over the cliff will end successfully. You see, Senator McConnell, at this point in the game, going over that cliff won’t hurt most of us at all.
But it will hurt you.
Hoping you put the pedal to the metal so we can be free of you,