DEAR MISTER PRESIDENT
By Charlie Clark

Dear Mr. President:

I've seen little evidence that you're inclined to take advice from me. But I thought I'd toss another suggestion onto the stack now teetering over your in-box: On your first day on the job, call the White House screening room and have them schedule a showing of the new movie Thirteen Days.

Yes, this bone-chilling dramatization of the 1962 Cuban missile crisis spotlights the Kennedy dynasty, which is not to be confused with the dynasty on which you've come to depend, and the film does showcase the heroism of, well, the party of your ``opponents." But there is a lesson in this rich piece of celluloid (if you can get past Kevin Costner affecting a Boston accent) that could make or break your presidency.

President Kennedy, at the time younger than yourself and facing similar public doubts about his maturity, was forced into a national security baptism-by-fire through deadly events beyond the control of any of his campaign handlers. Even more harrowing, he had to navigate a lonely path to a resolution by sifting through conflicting advice from competing military, diplomatic, political and familial advisers, some of whom were laying traps to manipulate their greenhorn boss and advance their own agendas.

When I hear you describe yourself as a ``delegator," whose notion of governing seems to fall back frequently on the principle of ``calling Dick Cheney, Colin Powell or Karl Rove," I feel the need for reassurance. So do many in that pesky majority of American voters who did not support you in November, and who still question the circumstances of your victory.

We've already had one Wizard of Oz president. Ronald Reagan, who, notwithstanding his amiability, perceived mandate and iconic status, was lost without his 3 x 5 cue cards, and allowed his feuding aides to execute end-runs around him. You show similar tendencies.

The New York Times' analysis of your daily schedule as governor of Texas revealed you worked about a six-hour day. When much of the country was glued to the historic and educational audio broadcast of the Supreme Court oral arguments on the case that brought you the presidency, you were ``above the fray," outside playing with your dogs. When reporters asked you questions during the Florida recount, you spoke from the heart and told them to phone Jim Baker. And in many of your appearances announcing Cabinet appointees, you came across as the least essential player on the stage, limiting your comments to generalities about the American Dream and the dedication of those joining your team.

True, there are people who like an unengaged president. They find him reassuringly just like them. Some actually fear a take-charge leader who signs executive orders or proposes legislation, because they associate such actions with taxes being raised or regulations tightened. But the truth, as you are about to discover, is that agendas, be they liberal or conservative, still must be planned and enacted by the public officials who work day in and year out.

Even if you want to abolish half the federal agencies and cut tax rates to zero, someone still has to hold the hearings, write the legislation and implement the program. Taxpayers are paying you to participate. So I implore you to set your ambitions higher than being a mere advisee who basically ``phones it in."

As Thirteen Days will teach, you have to focus enough on the unique demands of the presidency to form your own opinions on things. (The phrase ``the buck stops here" is not a reference to campaign fundraising.) Promise us you won't just play PR, and pose as a seasoned chief executive with the seven habits of highly-effective whatever, merely because you were twice elected to a position few outsiders realize is actually the fifth most-powerful office in Texas.

Surprise us by committing instead to a goal of applying yourself in fresh ways to a job that is vaster than anyone except 43 men in history could imagine. Convince us of this by holding some press conferences in which you go beyond rehearsed tape-loop slogans and respond in detail to critics about the tough choices ahead.

Of course, you may feel safer sticking to your approach of seeking to reassure the American people with calm cockiness, and the claim of being ``comfortable" surrounded by smart people. If so, you will continue to remind me of the sign I once saw in a busy local sandwich shop: ``Anyone who remains calm amidst all this confusion simply doesn't understand the situation."

Charlie Clark is the author of Finish High School At Home, and a frequent contributor to The Idler.