My Dear Donald…

The Strait of Hormuz is Two Miles Across at its Most Narrow. Shutting it Down — a Primary Iranian Goal in War — Cuts off 30% of the World’s Oil. Public Domain Photo by Tim Kopra Courtesy Johnson Space Center, National Aeronautics and Space Administration

We need to talk before you have a war with Iran.

I can call you Donald, right, as long as I don’t call anybody else Donald?

That’s kind of cool. I could never be The Steve because I was raised in a small town and there was this fellow named Steve Humphrey. His claim to Steveness was stronger than mine for two reasons.

My birth certificate said “Stephen Teehee,” and that’s a secret you hold close if you want to be Steve in rural Oklahoma. It’s the “Stephen” I speak of, not the “Teehee”. My last name brought me some grief, but it represents a fine old Cherokee family.

I’m also entitled to my Cherokee name, Ginatiyun Tihi. But I would feel like a faker, because I’m not fluent in the language, having been raised among Creeks.

But you, you are The Donald, and you have lots of words. I won’t kid you, the way you use them has concerned me. The big deal is from the time you took office you have personalized international relations.

Justin Trudeau is young and good looking and his ascent to Prime Minister at his age grates on you. I get that. But he’s from a political family. Does the name Pierre Trudeau ring a bell for you?

I didn’t think so.

But my point is that you don’t need to get along with Justin Trudeau for the United States to get along…