LePage should at least be funny in his handwritten nastygrams

Supporters of Gov. Paul LePage rally at the State House in June. Troy R. Bennett | BDN

Supporters of Gov. Paul LePage rally at the State House in June. Troy R. Bennett | BDN

The letters keep coming.

And with each one, the office of the governor is a little more diminished.

Gov. Paul LePage has fallen into a nasty little habit of blasting off ill-considered, handwritten notes to people who have fallen out of favor with him.

It’s a long list.

And it continues to grow to include political leaders, business leaders, activists and normal people who took the time to write the governor with no real expectation that they would get an angry reply.

Poison pen letters are nothing new. And, in fact, they’re not new from famous — or infamous, if you prefer — writers.

Charles Osgood, of the CBS News Morning Show and “The Osgood File” on CBS radio, has written an entertaining book that compiles blistering missives from famous writers, including Mark Twain, Ben Franklin, Oscar Wilde and Bob Hope.

Needless to say, LePage is no Twain or Hope. He’s not even a good imitation of Groucho Marx, whom Osgood also included.

Osgood calls his work simply, “Funny Letters from Famous People.” Released in 2004, it’s safe to say that the next edition isn’t likely to include any of LePage’s so-far public letters.

Although the mysterious note from LePage to Good Will-Hinckley that led to the firing of Speaker of the House Mark Eves from a private-sector job might make the cut — if it turns up. The letter apparently threatened the school if it didn’t dispatch Eves and is the focus of a federal lawsuit accusing the governor of blackmail.

As Osgood writes in the introduction to his book, “a real letter about a real situation from a real person, especially a real politician, author, or show business celebrity … Now that can be funny.”

A number of the letters Osgood highlights can best be described as mean, but with panache. The meanness comes with a flair for language and wit that is undeniable.

Tench Tilgham, a 38-year-old bachelor, wrote to Gen. George Washington, explaining his overdue return from leave, saying that he had married. Washington responded, acerbically, “We have had various conjectures about you. Some thought you were dead, others that you were married.”

President Lincoln was known for his short correspondence and sharp pen.

Lincoln once responded to a woman who requested a “sentiment” and an autograph: “Dear Madam. When you ask from a stranger that which is of interest only to yourself, always enclose a stamp. There’s you sentiment, and here’s your autograph.”

And my favorite, a letter from C.L. Clemens, also known as Mark Twain, is to the gas company complaining about an unannounced loss of service.

“Dear sirs. Someday you will move me almost to the verge of irritation by your chuckle-headed Goddamned fashion of shutting your Goddamned gas off without giving any notice to your Goddamned parishioners. Several times you have come within an ace of smothering half of this household in their bed and blowing up the other half by this idiotic, not to say criminal, custom of yours. And it has happened again today.”

I’d pay money to see his letter to the cable company.

Unfortunately, LePage’s letters, while not short on meanness, tend to lack flair or wit.

In a letter to a constituent in southern Maine, his handwritten note barely made sense.

Responding to Cape Elizabeth resident Louise Sullivan, who had written asking him to resign, LePage angrily and incoherently responded: “Louise. I bet you would like to see me resign. You live in the south who exploit those who are not so fortunate, or understand the level of corruption that southern Mainers ignore and welcome! Regards, Governor Paul R. LePage. P.S. Not going to happen!”

Perhaps his followers appreciate his plain-spoken style, but if you’re going to use the power of the office to attack constituents with nastygrams, you should at least do more than stick your tongue out and say, “Nah-nah. Boo-boo.”

If you’re going to be angry, at least be funny.

Flipping through Osgood’s book, I did see one letter that reminded me of LePage. It was from Lincoln, of all people.

Recommending two young men for work, Lincoln wrote a message that perhaps captures some of LePage’s ideas, if put more succinctly and eloquently: “My dear Sir. The lady of this says she has two sons who want to work. Set them at it if possible. Wanting to work is so rare a want that it should be encouraged.”

That’s certainly better than the LePage version: “Get off the couch and get yourself a job.”

Some people claim that the art of letter writing is dead. That’s not true, but with the governor it is badly wounded.

David Farmer

About David Farmer

David Farmer is a political and media consultant in Portland, where he lives with his wife and two children. He was senior adviser to Democrat Mike Michaud’s campaign for governor and a longtime journalist. You can reach him at dfarmer14@hotmail.com.