An open letter to the children.

ObamaProtestMiles, Katya, Grace, Grace, Andrew, Kelsey, Emmitt, Josh, Rachel, Gavin, Westin, Ryen Dean, Brittany, Tori, Carly, and every child I cross paths with but I don’t have time to write out.

Kids. If I can pass on one truth about life that I’ve learned, something that would’ve saved me a lot of frustration it would be this:

Kids, there are going to be dicks.

Dicks are always going to be there. I remember when I graduated ¬†High School and went off to College, I remember thinking: “well, that’s it for dicks. There’ll be no more dicks in 2 South in Anderson Hall at Miami Of Ohio.”

But there’s always dicks. I remember after many years of a special brand of dickishness reserved by God for Midwesterners – moving to Wrigleyville…where there would finally, be no more dicks.

As I worked my way into the world of employment, I thought each rung on the professional ladder would shed the possibility of working with a dick, whether it was my job at an accounting firm or working with salesmen. And, of course, when Barack Obama was elected President after eight years of a President who was every dick I’ve ever went to school or worked with; I said goodbye to dicks once again. But kids, there’s always going to be dicks. You’ll read about dicks like Joe McCarthy in your history books and be tempted to think “well thank God the days of dicks getting re-elected by fear mongering and accusing everyone of the opposition party of being Communist are over.” Don’t bother. Use that part of your brain to think about Power Rangers. Fun, fun, fun Power Rangers.