Dear B.,

Howdy, amigo, from Crawford, TX. I know you’re busy, which is why I’m writin you this letter and havin Laura scan it into the computer so I can send it by email, and then you can read it on your Blackberrypod while you’re takin a cigarette break or catchin your breath between basketball games or I don’t know. But however it gets there, I hope it gets there if it can (This Reader’s Digest compilation CD of great love songs that Laura sent away for just came in. LOVE it.) And, also, too, I hope this reaches you in well health. Seems like I’ve been hearin a lot about you and health in the news lately. I worry about you, B.

B., I’m writin this particular letter to you mainly cuz I know you got a lot of international influence, what with the Noble Prize and all. Also, cuz you like sports.

I’m fixin to get to the point here. You may or may remember that, during my presidencery (RIP), I went on a week-long “tangent” about colonizin the moon. As you’re prolly startin to figure out, some week-long tangents catch on, others don’t, and still others become wars. But, as for the moon, well, America is a greaterest nation full of folks who would rather “save” the planet we have now instead of just moving to a new one. This reasonin is similar, in my view, to one trashin a hotel room and then refusin the nice clerk’s offer to move one to a new, clean hotel room with a workin TV and a shower not clogged and full of beer/puke, but I digest.

B-rock, I’m writin cuz I wanted to pitch to you the idea of proposing to the International Olympic Committee the first Space Olympics.

One of the greatest important things about space is remembering the true space, and lookin back, one of the great mistakes I made as owner of the Texas Rangers was building the new stadium in Arlington, Texas rather than in orbit. That, and not gettin a martian in the Sammy Sosa trade. So, like I always say, fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, can’t get fooled again! Point bein, I don’t want you to make the same mistakes as me, B., so I wrote you a propositional memomiranda. Here:

Accordin to the great dictionary, Wikipedia, Article VI of the Outer Space Treaty, which was passed sometime in the past, talks all about international responsibility, and states that “the activities of non-governmental entities in outer space, including the moon and other celestial bodies, shall require authorization and continuing supervision by the appropriate State Party to the Treaty.” Activities is, as they taught us at Ivy League, another word for sports. And I’m not sure what the rest of it means, but I’ve been watchin a lot of the Syfy channel lately (Don’t tell Michelle I’ve been sittin in front of the TV and not exercisin!), and it seems to me that’s it damn near time for us to get responsible, internationally, and do space sports.

I gotta tell you that I really thought this one through, O-balla. Start to beginning. I even invented some events the athaletes can achieve. For exemplar:

Gravity Gymnastics
Al Gore told me that there actually is the gravity on the moon; it’s just weak, like Congress. Can you just imagine all them little girls spinning around and round out there in space? It’d be like the moon landing video, only with emaciated Russians, and real.

Moon Rock Dodgeball
That movie, “Dodgeball” was real funny. I nearly choked on my pretzels when I had watched it. And they got lots of rocks on the moon that people can throw at each other. That’d be funny, too! Thisclaimer: But don’t you be eatin when you watch Moon Rock Dodgeball, B. I worry about your health!

Space Skiin
Put on skis! Soar through space! Watch out for that asteroid!

Table Tennis of the Future
I read somewhere that Chinese are actually a different race, so if we sent them to space, they wouldn’t fair as well. It’d finally be time for someone else to win. The Chinese can’t be approachin super power status and winnin everything; under international laws, that’s not fair.

And, I mean, the athaletes could do all the other events, too, like runnin and swimmin and rowin and etc., just the same as the regular Olympics, only it’d be much cooler cuz it’d be in SPACE.

Oh, and, B-boy, I know you like it when people think real hard, so I even came up with some provisions and rules for the Space Olympics. I’m gonna get Karl Rove to help me stragerize a little more, but here’s one of some of my ideal so far:

Rules and Provisions
1. All athaletes will be required to wear moon shoes made by Big Time Toys. Note to B.: Remember those? Bounce, bounce, to the moon! To infinity and beyond! Etc.!

Also, too, B., I was rewatchin the Beijing Olympics openin ceremony on Youtube, this time with a clear mind cuz I’m not mad at Pooty Pute anymore for invadin Atlanta, the other mornin and I was like, well, goddamn. Space Olympics could do better than that. I mean, that Zhang Emu fellow has some nerves tryin to show up America with all them Chinese kids runnin around and dancin and lip-singin. America is a great nation of 300 people, maybe the greaterest, and I was thinkin it’d be real cool if we got Martians to perform some sort of tribal dance to a Lady Google song. I don’t know if Lady Google will still be popular by the time the Space Olympics come around, but Madonna’s still kickin, so let’s puh-puh-puh-pray (This Grammy nominee CD Laura sent away for just came in. LOVE it.).

B., I also know you like to have lots of support from famous folks for things like elections and other politics things, and I already got some support from other politic folks. For example, some lady Laura knows named Ms. Pelosi told Laura she’s all for the Space Olympics because of some sort of favorable gravitational pull or somethin. I’m not sure if Al Gore had a talk with Ms. Pelosi, too, or what, but I’d guess so because that man can’t shut up about science. Laura’s pretty excited about it, too, B. She said somethin about getting a perfect vaccum in space, but I don’t know about that because we just bought one of them robot vaccums, and what could be more perfect than that? A robot in my house doin my chores like my name is George W. Jetson! And Bono told me he’d attend if we let him sing in the openin ceremonies, but I told him I’d get back to him since he’ll be real old by then and I’m already trying to book Lady Google, and besides, when people think of Bono they think of AIDS, and I don’t want the Space Olympics to be all Debbie Downer, you know it? Also, I don’t know if you remember that band N*SYNC, but one of them singers said he’s super interested in space travel, and he definitively wants to buy a ticket to the openin ceremony and at least a few events (I have a feelin he’d love Men’s Gravity Gymnastics).

Anyway, consider it. I’ll be awaitin for your reply here in Crawford, watchin Syfy, and soakin up rays from the sun (which is also in outer space! Divine interconvection!). To get real candid, I worry about your presidencery, B., and I think you’ll find that the Space Olympics is the right decision for your presidencery, the right decision for my former presidencery, and the right decision for the illegal aliens.

To infinity and beyond!

G.W.

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CJ Hallman’s fiction has appeared in Identity Theory, the 322 Review, Dogmatika, and Defenestration. She enjoys underwater basket-weaving, Chinese literature-in-translation, shimmying into worm holes, and successfully violating the time-space continuum. But mostly shimmying. She lives in Austin, Texas.