The Honorable Ed Schafer
United States Department of Agriculture
1400 Independence Ave., S.W.
Washington, DC 20250
Dear Secretary Schafer:
Belated congratulations on your new job. Did our welcome basket arrive in good
shape? Maxine, who does a great job managing the fertilizer division of the
local co-op, said it was a mistake to include the two bunches of bananas. But
they looked plenty green leaving here, and most of us thought you were the kind
of thoughtful short-timer who would see real meaning in a bowl of ripening
fruit.
I know the combination of an unsigned farm bill, still-crippled beef trading
with Japan and South Korea, the biggest hamburger recall in U.S. history and
soaring food prices may imply excessive responsibility for a position described
by White House headhunters as "part-time." But it's critical not to be bitter.
Don't think of the former secretary as the mutinous skipper of the Titanic
(whispering "good luck with the leak"). Think of him more as a generous team
player who has left you the glory of the end game.
Don't take the department too seriously: When President Grover Cleveland asked
for an annual report on the state of agriculture, Secretary J. Sterling Morton
responded with a terse three-page summary, concluding with a recommendation that
the department be abolished as an unnecessary evil. Cleveland quickly asked for
a rewrite, reminding Mr. Morton of certain political realities, not to mention
his own job security.
The USDA has never taken itself too seriously, a humbleness no doubt reflecting
the public's general indifference. Though you might be noted someday in the Farm
Belt edition of Trivial Pursuit, don't lose too much sleep about how you'll be
remembered by history. You won't be.
With all due respect, sir, you need to do a much better job grooming for
success. Frankly, you're a bit long in the tooth for your new job (i.e. 11 years
older than the average age of the previous 28 secretaries), a fact trumpeted by
that shock of silver hair. A dye job would probably draw unwanted attention,
though maybe you could spin the story by using soy ink instead of Grecian
Formula. At the very least, Mr. Secretary, please lose the mustache. Not only
will a clean shave lend your entire department a more youthful image, it could
significantly remove you from harm's way.?
Of course, I'm referring to the department's chilling history of facial hair
fortune. Consider these simple facts: 1) The first six secretaries served with
honor and relative distinction behind either full beards or bushy handlebars; 2)
in 1921, Secretary Henry Cantwell Wallace dared to flout tradition by
introducing a farm bill with nothing on his face except a smile and splashes of
Aqua Velva. Two years later he was found dead in his office, face down in angry
letters from hairy farmers demanding parity; 3) on Dec. 31, 1994, Secretary Mike
Espy hitched a ride to the Rose Bowl aboard the Tyson corporate jet, forced out
of office by unproven allegations of bribery. He was the first USDA taskmaster
to sport a mustache in 70 years.
Best of luck and buy a razor.
Sincerely yours,