Winning the Presidency By a Hair

Dear Donald Trump,

Thank you for busting through the age-old clutter of polyspeak these days with your neo-enlightening style, your clarity and concision of upright thought, and, above all, with your animus which hugs sort of as it lectures and improves us all.

You are the light in dark America.

In standing up against the duh in existing U.S. policies and providing, rather, brilliant, down-to-earth solutions for America's pressing needs, you stand out among all the other 2016 presidential candidates (your countless Republican peers included) as a flowering lily pad in a stagnant pool.

Your defiance of all the stupid, senseless laws no longer apposite in 21st century application (e.g., the 14th Amendment, with its nonsensical guarantee of citizen rights) is timely. Your call for building the 200,000-mile-long Great Wall of Xenophobia is monumental. Your deft insights about the President, Mexicans, liberals, women, aging models, LGBTs, TV networks, ISIS, stiffs, Rosie, Megyn, Jeb, tiny little guys, and others who are not you are priceless.

But the primary reason I'm writing to you today, Mr. Trump, is that I believe to your bullhorn, to your body language — indeed, to all your pertinent invective and revolutionary ideas that have culled from our dark landscape such a horde of devotees — I believe that there's an asset as yet untapped which, when enjoined to those others, will guarantee you the 2016 presidential nomination. That last asset, Mr. Trump, is your hair.

Specifically, we Americans implore you to change your hairstyle. Get rid of the waveover. Pay your favorite stylist (or maid) to execute a tasteful trim. Tell her or him that you need a new mane: a style that reflects your awesome sense of order and propriety. This idea is genius, Mr. Trump. In a phrase, your new hair will seal the deal.

The People are blown away by your excellent stances for America. The People love you because, through your anger and nonconformity, you have given voice to their anger and torn down the commoners’ Great Wall of Fear of political incorrectness. The People love you, Mr. Trump — just as people love cultists — because their awe of your novelty blinds them to your fa├žade. Cut your hair, sir, and those who follow you will grow to legions!

Trimming your tuft, neatening that coiffure, will fix your reputation as the one and only American who can get things done for America. Do this, Mr. Trump, for it will make you in the bedazzled eyes of The People even more worthy than they already believe you are.

In sum, Mr. Trump, perfect the only thing about you that as yet inhibits your full bearing as "one of us." Compromise that hair, Mr. Trump, and surely you will saunter to Nomination Night as if on an ornamental steed: America’s next “Brightest Hope.”

Thank you, and...

Best Regards,

Kenneth Vanderbeek