An Open Letter to Donald Trump, from a Chair

Around the table at Christmas dinner last year, as the presidential primaries were just starting to really heat up, I promised my family that I wouldn’t make a public endorsement of any candidate running for President. They didn’t want the attention and frankly, I didn’t either. Some people have questioned this decision, as though I am obliged to make an endorsement just by virtue of the fact that I am a well-known chair. I rejected this notion. For a while, at least.

People from all over the world sit down with me (OK, if I’m being honest, on me) and they ask all kinds of questions. “Who are you voting for?” “What do you think about Trump’s border protection plan?” “How can anyone have 33,000 emails about wedding planning?”

I always say the same thing (even though I’m actually not even sure if anyone can hear me talk). I say:

No comment.

I’ve declined to comment on every single presidential question that has come my way. It’s a matter of principle. And fear. I’m terribly afraid of being on the wrong side of history when the dust settles.

My great-grandfather was the chair that Hitler sat in from 1937–1939. They actually just found him a couple of years ago, along with his memoir. In it, my great-grandfather reveals that he knew all along that Hitler was a sociopathic dictator. But he did nothing. He said nothing. And in all honesty, it probably saved his life. If it wasn’t for his decision to remain silent, I might not be the chair I am today.

So under the guise of protecting my family and those closest to me, I’ve remained silent.

Well, a funny thing happened last night, watching the second presidential debate. Maybe the months of criticism finally got the best of me. Or maybe I just felt that this contest was too important for me to idly sit by.

Or maybe it was when I saw Donald Trump attempting to have sex with a chair.

Maybe it was only then that I realized that something was truly wrong here.

I’m sorry Poppy. I’m sorry Meemaw. I can’t in good conscience remain silent anymore. I will be voting for Hillary Clinton because I am confident that she will never sexually abuse a chair on national television.

It’s that simple. I was always planning on voting for Hillary, but I was also planning on keeping that decision between myself and the voting booth. And possibly the next person to sand and stain me. I always end up spilling my guts when the sandpaper comes out. It just feels so good.

Over the weekend, I heard the leaked tapes and the locker room talk. I watched the video. It was bothersome, but it didn’t hit home for me.

But when he wrapped his hands around that chair and you could see the maniacal look of a chair-rapist creeping across his already creepy face, I lost it. So I got up, even though I technically can’t move, and I starting writing this letter.

I don’t know if it’ll make a difference. After all, I am just a chair. It doesn’t matter that I am a well-known chair that many famous people sit in every day. That’s not the point. The point is that I, as an American chair, have the right to voice my opinion. And it’s a right that should not be exercised only when it’s convenient. It’s a right that should be exercised with every meaningful conversation that I’m a part of. Like this conversation right here.

I have faith in the American people. I don’t think that after writing this letter, Trump supporters will come find me bearing hatchets and condensating glasses without coasters. No. I think I will be safe.

But even if I am not…and even if some lunatic does come after me, hacking me apart with a handsaw…I will head to my grave peacefully, knowing that I performed my civic duty. I spoke up when it mattered the most.

Never again will I see my brothers and sisters get humiliated and abused on national television. Not by Donald Trump and not by Clint Eastwood. Not by WWE wrestlers and not by anyone else who decides to use a chair for their own personal devices. And certainly not behind my President’s back:

No more. It’s time we take a stand, on all four legs, but differently than how we already stand because otherwise no one will tell the difference. It’s time we stand up against chair abuse. If we don’t, what will our tables think?

Sincerely,

Andrew
a famous chair