My Open Love Letter to Margaret Brennan, Financial Reportress Extraordinaire

CNBC may not rank among your favorite television networks. It has no Sportscenter, Larry King or Raymond (whom, by the way, NOT everybody loves). CNBC isn't sports; it isn't raunchy teen drama; it isn't mass-appeal, visual eggnog -- and I'll tell you flat-out that even I am interested in almost nothing it has to say.

But ever since I started my full-time desk job in an office that radiates CNBC from no fewer than 10 TV's, I have found a reason to watch. Nay, a reason to live.

Margaret Brennan isn't a typical modern-day anchor/reporter. Unlike the majority I've seen, she would have a terrible time convincing me that she used to decorate the floor at college drinking parties. She's the real girl next door: the one with whom you swing at a playground -- not at a club. She's the cutest girl on TV, and in my mind, her brand of cute is searingly, soul-stunningly hot.

A bit of research, furthermore, reveals a complicated woman underneath the adorable facade. And so begins my open love letter to Margaret Brennan, the current owner of my heart.

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Dear Margaret,

Why do you so cruelly tease me? Your rare, two-minute appearances on Retail Detail, while informative, are grossly frustrating for someone who needs you in order to breathe. Of all the regulars on CNBC, you get perhaps the least air time; this is a clear injustice against the most brilliant, shining star not only at the network, but in -- dare I say? -- the universe.

Then again, your rarity is what makes you special. If they put you on the air for as long as they do most anchors, you'd have to make fake, fleeting comments like, "What a refreshing story that was," or, "Intriguing insight, Bob." And you'd probably have to feign interest in whatever that Cramer dude has to say, like poor Erin Burnett does. You'd risk being oppressive and boring like the summer sun while, in your current role, you're more like a distant supernova: just visible enough to make us want a telescope.

Yes, it's better this way. It's better that you to appear only rarely, briefly... at least, that's what I say before I cry myself to sleep. **sigh**