Happy New Year, Don Rumsfeld

Dear Mr. Secretary: If anyone deserves a better year than 2006, it’s you.

As someone who once lost a top job, I feel your pain. The calendar goes blank, message slips disappear, and people avert their eyes as though you had “loser” stamped on your forehead.

Sure, they gave you a brass-band sendoff, but a sensitive person could see you felt as if the epaulettes were being stripped from your shoulders.

The good news is this: You are now free to do what you do best—set people straight.

Don’t take less than a million-dollar advance for your memoirs and then let those who let you down have both barrels. Start with your “good friend,” Dick Cheney, who should appreciate a shotgun metaphor.

Instead of looking in the mirror in 2000 and picking himself for VP, why not you? You could have spent these past years whispering into young Bush’s ear and being charming on ceremonial occasions.

Instead, they have you fronting for clueless politicians and gutless generals as a punching bag for the malicious media.

After all, your invasion plan sliced Iraq like a hot knife through butter. Why would anyone expect a master strategist to turn traffic cop?

Don’t stop believing in yourself. Even young Bush gets something right once in a while. In fifty years, the world may appreciate his brilliance and courage—and yours.