This is a very brief diary to lift your spirits on a Friday afternoon.
Hat tip to Joe. My. God.
Dad, you told me once you knew mom was the one when you started imagining me, your American dream. Well, I think it's time I told you mine.
I don't want to be a billionaire.
I don't want to roll in a Ferrari.
I don't want to marry a supermodel.
I don't want a pad in Beverly Hills.
I don't want to party with Kanye on his G5.
What I want is a job that I love and that loves me back.
I want to build a future for my kids the way you built it for me.
I want to take my first paycheck and lease a car that isn't going to kill the planet.
And drive to a bank that will invest in me instead of casino games.
And open an account to start saving for my first home.
And when I finally pull up that for sale sign, I'm going to get down on one knee right there in the front yard and propose to the love of my life.
This is my American dream.
And on November 6th, I'm going to vote to make it real.
Mom, dad, Sarah, pop-pop - please.
Let's all work as hard as we can to help our young people realize their dreams.