On Wasser-White House Relations

At this point when someone mentions Obama, unless I‘m a few drinks in, I stay uncharacteristically quiet. I find that those who don’t support him usually have the wrong reasons why a la “that SOB with his stupid mosque”, and those that do support him? Put best by my friend Jamie to calm me after being cut off by some schmuck in a Pontiac Vibe touting ‘yes we can’; “if they’re stupid enough to buy American and vote for a socialist, they don’t need you to confirm they’re a moron” – and so, with the option of either way arguing with an idiot, I stay silent to be thought a fool, rather than to speak and remove all doubt. When it comes to Wasser-White House relations, I’m caught between a rock and a hard place of wanting to support the leader of the country, paired with the fact that I don’t believe he could lead a bedbug to a mattress; unless of course that bedbug wanted to contribute nothing to the journey in which case, I’m sure Obama could find some way to lend a helping hand and preferably a top tax bracket home who could assumedly afford the extermination spray. (And so, my elephant is out of the bag).

This past week however, my frustration went from a place that was shared with the populous, to a place that was felt by me alone. My grandma found out she needed an arterial stent, basically a small tube placed in clogged arteries to keep both her Carotid artery, and Long Island steak houses near her home, open and in working order. Peter Lugers: 1. Hedda Wasser, also a winner. This is until she went to her cardiologist and was told that her insurance that she had paid thousands of premium health care dollars into since the last ‘great depression’ will not cover so much as the Hospital’s jello or static soft-core porn because she is (un-admittedly) over 75 years of age.

While I usually try to block out statements of ignorance such as ‘Obama is trying to kill the old people’; it does seem as if geriatrics are finally about to remember what it feels like to be fucked. And so I turned to Facebook, where apparently there are people with far more time on their hands than I have. Who knew that ‘The White House’ a. has a Facebook page, b. has less fans than Kim Kardashian (about 800,000 to Kim’s 3 mil) and c. would be the cheapest form of entertainment available now that The World Weekly News is out of print. As such, I’m sharing the highlights of today's posting:

The White House: Photo of the Day: Carved pumpkins depicting President Barack Obama, Abraham Lincoln, and the White House sit on a stone wall next door to where the President was attending a dinner reception in Providence, Rhode Island, Oct. 25, 2010.

Sami B: How much of taxpayer's money did you waste for that?

Lisa B: @Sami.... don't be stupid. John Reckner carved them. Idiot.

Sami B: I'm pretty sure the money for this could have bought someone a tooth filling. Just lookin' out for  you ungrateful rednecks!

Jim W: @sami. it said nothing about who made them. how do you know an artist didn't hear Obama coming in and then carve this beauty. Great Photo

Timothy S: The pumpkins... which WERE THE POINT OF THIS POST are stunning. Y'all need to take your bickering somewhere else.

Mary M: (with the burning question on my mind): Why is Obama always putting himself beside Pres. Lincoln?

Mike A: How can anyone like this lier that has no idea what the hell he is doing and has the nerve to blame someone that had nothing to do with the economic down turn and loss of jobs AS SOON AS THE DEMACRATS TOOK MAJORITY OF CONGRESS IN JAN 2007 IS WHEN GOVERNMENT TOOK A LONG DOWNHILL SLIDE AND YOU HAVE BARRY HUSSEIN COMPLAINING ABOUT BUSH,GET YOUR FACTS RIGHT JAGOFF

Nanda: Very cool, 'cept Obama looks pissed off. Perhaps he's thinking about how he keeps getting cock blocked on the hill.

James H: good lord, after reading the comments some of yall are pathetic, whining about tax payer money on a pumpkin, n being robbed by a president, and what does this have to do with the pumpkin lol..., so ur basing ur pissed offness on assumption, which is kinda like goin to take a dump, and assuming theres toilet paper..... that bein said, it looks bad ass, and its a tribute not just to obama for those whining about him, but to abe as well and what he wanted for us over 100 yrs ago...i couldnt do that well of a carving, could you? so why whine and stress it, its not gonna make yall happy when your on your death bed reflecting back on your life. so why are u waisting your time gettin upset over a pumpkin

And last but not least, the only one with any sense;

Andrew G: some of you people need to learn how to spell


IN CASE YOU WERE WORRIED ABOUT HEDDA: Don’t be. My grandmother is lucky that she has a doctor in the family (were jews) and has saved well; but what if this wasn’t the case. As this out-patient procedure would cost tens of thousands, there are many that would be simply priced out, or would spend their livelihood in securing their health resulting in an end-of-life not worth living. While I often joke that my grandma will be killed by a black man, I always envisioned her demise resulting from a black man, her granddaughter (me), and a sex tape… there goes ‘Hope’.

A Time To Remember, and Some Things to Forget

For every generation, it is said that each has a defining moment. For some generations there are many. For our generation, January 20th, 2009 is the first of many historic moments yet to come. Whether you are a die-hard Republican in Boca cursing the "Arab-liberal", or an impassioned student wearing your pins and "Yes We Can" t-shirts - not to beat the dead [and somewhat non-sensical] Kennedy linked to Obama horse, but where we stood on Obama's historic inauguration will be etched in our minds as a moment none of us will be able to forget. For one, you didn't really have much choice but to watch; even Law and Order wasn't airing during Obama's homecoming, but secondly, the Obama administration marks a shift in our country, our culture and our society for what I believe to be the better. And not because he's a black man either, but because he is a man that will mold the next era of what is to become of American Nationalism.

So where was I when Obama boyishly fumbled over his oath? Huddled over my carmel macchiato on the steps of the ballroom in the GSU. My friend Mariel and I walked into what seemed to be some sort of preacher, and actually thought we were in the wrong place, at what could even be the wrong time, until we saw Diane Sawyer's blond bob appear on the big screens. Not finding any seats, we arrange ourselves on the back steps and until people started piling in - clearly they knew when Al Sharpton's gig was over - there was no one but she and I, free to share wisecrack commentary as loud as we like. Spoiled by our original sense of isolation, as people started piling in, we still shared wisecrack commentary as loud as we liked. But comon! Were we really supposed to let Dick roll by in a wheelchair unscathed? The line of the moment became, "Well he screwed America up the ass for 8 years.... I guess Barack returned the favor,... you know what you say about black men,.. once you go black, you're going to need a wheelchair." That turned into our new catchphrase for 2009: I'm going to Barack Obama yo' ass. 

But on a more serious note, in yesterdays inauguration, three things became clear; 1. in the words of the great Celine Dion, a new day has come, 2. When it comes to creating memories one cannot forget, people get awfully sensitive to their surroundings, and some may have preferred that my friend and I weren't in theirs, and 3. it is clearly impossible for the United States government to do anything without producing comedy.  

On the first observation, I am going to be honest here, I was a late-blooming Obama fan. I believed that it was important to our nation that he win, but in my mind at the time, not necessarily because he was the better candidate. I believed that the cost of Obama's loss on our society, our youth and our electoral system would just be too great. McCain, to me, was a noteworthy candidate who lost his candor to greed for the win. Obama an orator of whom I questioned his integrity. So with lack of faith in either candidate, along with lack of organization leaving me without an absentee ballot, I chose not to participate on November 4th. I did however exit-poll all morning, and help New England Cable News cover the election until California and Colorado were called that night. From a Dorchester church I sat next to a man who once upon a time sat next to Martin Luther King. Now in his 80's, he remembered organizing the March on Roxbury from his church where King spoke alongside him. He remembered the March on Washington, where he stood alongside King. While he can remember each second of moments from the past, what he couldn't truly sink his teeth into was what he was witnessing in the present. Yesterday, from the GSU, no where near that church in Dorchester; students, administrators, faculty and guests alike shared in one experience that has a different meaning for each and every individual in the room. I was proud of our nation for not making it about Bush's departure, but rather joyously, about the dawn of what's to come - I think that alone speaks to the mood of what Obama has been able to acheive. 

White, Black, Asian, International, American - it was a moment for all that could only be ruined by myself and Mariel.  "Mar - are you crying?",... "No.. these steps are just making my butt hurt... HA! I Barack Obama-ed my own ass!",.. on the second observation, need I say more? In hindsight, we could have been more sensitive, but we weren't being loud and the gig is up - were watching on the steps of the GSU. If you want hand holding, and kum-ba-ya spring the 100 dollars and hop a bus to Washington,... where ironically enough, the real comedy was taking place.

For starters, sorry to bring it back up again, but Dick in a wheelchair was just too good. The reason for his departure on wheels? He pulled his back moving boxes. Really Dick? One word: Vicodin. Another word: Codeine. I could locate both of those, and have them delivered - you're telling me that you couldn't muster the strength to WALK out of the White House? A man who has no qualms about sending troops to war has an ironically low pain tolerance. 

But in lighter fare, their was only one person who was completely appropriate yesterday; J. Biden... and no I am not talking about Joe. Wife Jill Biden simply glowed in elegant attire, a properly bleached smile, and rootless blond hair. As for the rest of them,... the gavel is coming down. It never ceases to amaze me how people can take hugely important days and not bother to look in a full length mirror. Exhibit A: Aretha Franklin, and her hat. For a woman who is all about R.E.S.P.E.C.T., she clearly doesn't have any for the fashion industry, along with Michelle Obama. While I commend her for bringing Laura Bush a gift, Michelle didn't then have to reciprocate by taking the gold draperies Laura Bush surely gave her and turn it into a coat. When I go out on a Friday night and know someone's around with a digital camera I go home and put on spanx for the fear of things showing up on facebook. Does the cover of the New York Time's just not phase her? 

But in the spirit of the Obama Administration I have hope: hope that along with the basketball court Barack hopes to build, he also adds to the White House a stylist. Finally, to cap off my list of things I could have done without while welcoming in a promising and progressive president, the ending poem. Anticlimactic doesn't even do it justice. That poem simply sucked. No way to glam that one up. Making the disasterpiece that much worse, right before E. Alexander read the poem stolen from a fourth grader, the announcer makes sure everyone at home watching knows, "needless to say, she worked very hard on this,..." My friend said it best, "if Obama picks his cabinet the way he does his inaugural poems, we're f&^ked". Luckily, we can rest assured that his policy makers outshine his poets.

Here is to a brighter future, a more innovative tomorrow, a better nation and to a time in our history where we cannot forget two things; our sense of humor, and our sense of purpose.