Cornwall-on-Hudson resident Gary Regan shares his open letter to President Obama that first appeared in the San Francisco Chronicle.  He is the author of "The Joy of Mixology" and other books.

Dear President Obama:

I do not represent the San Francisco Chronicle on the issue I'm about to open up, but I think that I can safely say that I speak for a large number of American bartenders when I ask you to consider encouraging, or even demanding, that everyone in this great country of ours make a far bigger effort to "plan the increasing use of the metric system in the United States," words taken from the Metric Conversion Act of 1975.

That's right, Mister President, we made a commitment to go metric more than 30 years ago.

I'm well aware, of course, that there are far more important issues for you to tackle right now, but I think that if you could see your way to giving this topic just a little thought, you might see that, if this country took steps to join the rest of the world in their metricity (yes, I just made that word up), there might be some advantages to the switch that aren't immediately apparent.

Think, for instance, of all the jobs that would be created. For a start, thousands of packaging designers would be called into action to redesign labels on cans of soup, and bags of sugar and all manner of boxes and cans and bottles and bags. Then all the gas pumps would have to be recalibrated. That's a job and a half, huh? Next we'd have to retool the machines that produce milk cartons so we could finally buy our milk in liters instead of pints. (I hope, President Obama, that I don't have to point out the fact that the liquor industry in America is one industry that went metric years ago. So far ahead of the milk guys ...)

Is it also possible, Mister President, that our exports will grow if we go metric. Your average chappie in Britain, I believe, would be far more likely to buy an American apple pie if he knew that it was 25 centimeters in diameter. Tell him it's a 10-inch pie and there's a good chance that he'll buy an inferior English pie instead.

When you took the reins, President Obama, countries that have not been enamored of us in recent years immediately gave us another chance to show how great we could be. Surely we must seize this opportunity to show them what we're made of. If we pushed the metric issue, those Europeans would no longer be able to laugh at us behind our backs. Not too very long ago I visited a bar in Paris where I overheard one Frenchman say to another, "Oh, zoze Americains! Zeh steel theenk in ounces, you know. Ooh la la!" I left that bar in a hurry and went straight to the nearest McDonald's for a Royal Cheese (that's what the French call a Quarter Pounder).

There's one more reason that I'm urging you to work on this issue, Mister President, and it involves cocktails. As I'm sure you know, the cocktail was invented in America, and American bartenders have always been regarded as being the very best in the world, but the sad fact is that we're beginning to lose ground. Bartenders in London, Paris, Sydney, Hong Kong, Bratislava, Moscow and Rome simply don't understand our recipes, you see. Ounces mean nothing to them.

If you act now, though, the bartenders of America will be quick to order their metric jiggers, and American cocktails will be once again be served at the best bars in the world. You just watch us, sir. We'll jump right in there, and before you know it the rest of the world will once again marvel at the creativity of the men and women who work behind the bars of America.

I've created a drink, Mister President, that we could perhaps use to toast you if you can pull this metric thing off. The ingredients are all American, and although most of them are made in California, I did include an East Coast product, too. It comes from a family that supplied George Washington's troops with their apple brandy. Pretty cool, huh?

In closing, President Obama, I'd like to wish you and your family all the best for the next four, or eight, years, and if I might be allowed to offer to show you around some of the fine bars we have here in San Francisco, I'd be happy to pick up the tab next time you're in town. (We'll go nonalcoholic if it's more politically correct.)