My Dearest Rachel,
On this historic day, your MSNBC show debuts, and a fragment of the cable news network will finally be able to see what I see, to know what I know, to feel what I feel.
We're talking love, baby.
A love that is spreading about the mainstream media like the seed of a teenage hockey star.
 | There's no question that the 35-year-old {Maddow} will cut a different figure than most of her cable brethren. - LA Times |
Words cannot describe how happy I am that the world at-large will be able to drink in the Maddow goodness that has sustained me these four long years. And yet, it is with a tinge of sadness that I pen this Ode de Rachel.
I fear I will be left behind like a runaway bride at a gay marriage, like Samantha Ronson on June 24, 2009.
| Maddow also knows how to think fast on her feet, a quality that is surprisingly rare in the world of media talking heads. 
- Boston Globe |
Rachel, I've long known that you think fast on your beautiful elfin besneakered feet. I've been there from the beginning. No, I am not a Rhodes Scholar, nor do I have AIDS, and I've never spent a night in a federal penitentiary. City jail, yes. But nobody writes his or her dissertation about the societal scourge of the 24-hour drunk and disorderly lockup.
But Rachel, I have always known you were the one for me, even when I didn't know you existed. From the first moment I heard you on Air America's AM New York City station, I was captivated, enthralled right up to when you moved down the dial and I could no longer get reception in my Manhattan apartment.
| Everything about her radiates competence and a deft, bright careerism. - Nation |
During our time apart, my love for you only grew fonder, like a P.O.W. yearning to clutch Uncle Sam to his breast. I did what I could to stay connected, going so far as to download Public Enemy's Muse Sick-n-Hour Mess Age, New Whirl Order and How You Sell Soul to A Soulless People Who Sold Their Soul? in hopes that Chuck D. would sample one of your progressive bromides about the Zimbabwean economy for my "I Luv U RM" iMix.
To prove my devotion to your wise radio mentor, I attempted to leave a flaming bag of dung on Craig Kilborn's front porch. Maddeningly, his forwarding address led me to a foreclosed McMansion overrun by bobcats. But this isn't over Craiggers, not by a longshot.
| Yet here was just this headline, delivered by Maddow, looking like Sylvester the Cat, practically licking yellow feathers from the corners of her mouth. - Nation |
And then, like a former beauty queen turned sportscaster, there you were, lighting up MSNBC more than the dye in Chris Matthews' mane.
Yet, there too, were the intelligentsia, taking up the air we breathed together. Unlike The Nation, I don't see you as a cartoon cat, an animated pussy, but as the woman that has stolen my heart like the votes in a poor black neighborhood.
| MSNBC should let Rachel Maddow be Maddow. Let Maddow freely, proudly share all her values, most of which are the values of the Democratic Party's left-wing ruling elite. - Newsmax |
Even the conservative blogosphere is ga-ga, but I will not allow Maddowmania to sweep me away in a fawning avalanche. Pat Buchanan has a thing for you? Well, guess what? I too am named for the patron saint of the Emerald Isle. I too attended a Jesuit University. I too have Celtic roots. And I too fear Mexicans.
Rachel, we are meant for each other. We are soulmates. We are McCain/Palin. We share not only a deep an abiding love for defense industry appropriations, but my Father was also a military man who served stateside during Vietnam. Think of our long fireside chats over a bottle of Chianti. I may even be able to offer insight into the political mysteries of the Last Frontier as I was born on an Army base in Fairbanks Alaska. (What up, Sarah!)
You once said you like to "professionally bully people about what they drink." I'll put my cocktail napkins on the table: beer (craft, cheap, domestic or imported); wine (red, white or in-between); whiskey, gin, rum and the occasional margarita. But Rachel, I'm drinking whatever your drinking. I imagine it to be a holy spirit of Raki, tonic, honey, Sapphic sweat and mint leaves.
| We're gay for Rachel Maddow...Okay, we still don't want to kiss her or anything. - New York Magazine |
How dare the liberal media proclaim itself gay and not want to feel the feathery snog of Maddow's soft lips and hot breath? I would live through ten more Bush years for just one supple kiss. I am not a schoolgirl with a crush, although I could be if it helps. Nor do I have deep-seeded inner-confusion even though you once said, "I look like a dude."
Not in these eyes.
To me, you look like an angel.
That is why I am going to reconstitute my genitalia for you, my progressive petunia. There is no greater gift a straight married man can give, than the very flesh he calls his own. No point in trying to talk me out of out it, my penis is going to be offered up as a sacrifice of my devotion and our burgeoning love.
And don't tell about your lifetime "commitment" to Susan Mikula. Seeing as you haven't gone the Ellen and Lindsay Funke route, to me that says more than "cold beautiful elfin feet," it says you are yearning for something more than domestic stability and the 9 p.m. Eastern slot on MSNBC.
And that something is me.
I will be the Gertrude to your Alice, the Amy to your Emily, the Lana to your Brandon...the Lorena to your Eleanor. We don't need to rush. Doctors tell me this will take some time. But if you desire my darling, send me a sign during your debut broadcast, and I am off to Lithuania to let my flower bloom.
Yours in love everlasting,
Patrick, soon to be Patricia, Sauer
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