Carole Radziwill Writes an Open Letter to President Donald Trump

Dear Mr. Trump,

I know you love Fox & Friends but is there a chance you switch the channel on Wednesday nights and watch RHONY? We just started our ninth season. Ratings are huuuge. Like your inauguration huuge. Your bank account huuuge. Your tiny hands huuuge. Over seventeen million people watched our premiere episode! We’re HUUUUGE!

Did you see us talking about you? You're this season’s Johnny Depp pirate. Which isn't quite like a leg on the floor at Le Cirque, but it's not bad, my friend. You are still a star on reality TV!

My friends are starting to avoid me and calling me a know-it-all elitist, because I'm into politics. Election years interest me. It’s not a stretch. I made my career in the news business, and politics is kind of...newsy. They also know I ran for president of the board in my building and won. Did you see that episode? It was a beautiful thing! You would have loved it, it was a landslide. The biggest win ever in the history of our building. I won the popular vote, I won the unpopular vote. I'm the smartest woman in Manhattan, I'm huge. I’m bigly!!!

(Ironically, I’m in charge of leaks and wiring now, too. We have similar challenges. I feel you, babe.)

I am interested in news, though. It's my thing. I'm a little passionate about politics. I love it, although until you, it had been a bit boring. Simply put, I spend more time engaged than the average Jane, or, even your average Ramona. Like I said, it's my thing. 

I watch real news and Fox news both. I read Politico, The Washington Post and the WSJ. C-Span plays on the television in my living room all day. Little excites me more than public hearings on tax reforms.

If I were a musician, no one would argue with me about tonal and atonal progressions. They wouldn't haughtily claim superior fingerings on arpeggios, dismiss my musical background and walk away.

But I'm not a musician, or a plumber, or an accountant. I'm a journalist, so my expertise is - information. Oh, I know, I'm not currently working in news right now, so it doesn't count. But a retired doctor is still deferred to when there's a rash in the room. Why is it so hard for my friends to acknowledge I may know more than they do about politics? Why would they know about FOIA requests anyway? That is kind of, sort of, what started the infamous email scandal in the first place. I'm quick to admit the many topics they know more about than I do, like parenting, blood alcohol content, all 245 kama sutra positions. 

That reminds me, my friend Sonja Morgan told me she was an advisor to your campaign. There are pictures of the two of you together and she said you entertained her and her girlfriends at a well, raucous, dinner at Raoul's. In my hood!  She held a Tea Party last week, but when I brought up the election people waved their hands and scurried away. Our country was founded on fighting over spilt tea! Why hold a Tea Party if you aren't going to talk politics?

So anyway, we're arguing about you. Everyone is. Are your ears burning? I don’t think I’ll be invited to a gossipy lunch again, because I can't stop correcting the alternative facts you throw up like Reese Witherspoon at dinner on Big Little Lies (ep. 6.) So good!

You know, like the one about Secretary Clinton being a criminal because she used her husband's email server to do work at home?  Ha ha. Lock her up!  Lock her up! That got you some cheers, so you kept saying it. It's catchy. I get it, you wanted to win. And winning, at any expense, is the game, right?

My friends didn't want to hear about Comey’s findings or that he may have violated the law in revealing them. Or when you openly encouraged a hostile superpower to hack into a private computer, which is kind of skirting the law. You love skirts! And they don’t like when I mention the three fraud cases or the NY AG’sinvestigation of your charity. That's all dumb. I mean, what about the colors at Sonja's Tea Party? And lack of hats? It’s an outrage! Those are both real issues, ones where we should all take a stand.

I’m taking a stand on the cut-off age for hickeys. I love a hickey. "You’re Never Too Old to Suck" could be your next campaign slogan. Like it? I trademarked it already.

Anyway. It's not important. The thing that is clear is that I'm an elitist. Being an elitist I can invite, disinvite , and invite again, anyone I want to. I'm having an elitist party, with my fellow elitists, Dems and Republicans alike, on your big night. It's my party, and I'll be informed if I want to. 

Oh, one more thing: If being an elitist is doing my civic duty as an informed citizen, understanding the difference between conspiracy theories and legitimate news (and a legitimate candidate vs a con), speaking out against racism, misogyny, lies and hate, and voting against a guy (nothing personal) who doesn’t seem to want the job, and in my opinion is far too unfit, unqualified and inexperienced to lead this country, then I am guilty as charged. Elitist. Lock Me Up!!

Oh, but if you do lock me up, do you think you could find a way to smuggle me some Sabrett hot dogs? I'm a New Yorker, after all. Thanks.

Yours Hugely,

C.