I’ve lived in Washington, D. C. for 28 years and have never seen a president or a first spouse. Everyone in my family has run into these celebrities. They’ve been to White House egg rolls, watched royal daughters dropped off at school and been annoyed by buzzing presidential limos.
You never know when a motorcade is going to pass by.
Last night Mel and I went on an IPA research mission. First we stopped at Uptown Tap House for Devil’s Backbone 8 Point IPA. Then to Glen’s Garden Market for Baltimore Washington Beer Works’ Tell Tale Heart. The evening ended at Pizza Paradiso where we had Three Star Brewing Company’s Sea Change (from a wooden cask – this makes all the difference. I can attest to wood inspired overtones of vanilla and crème.)
On the walk home, (yes we could still walk) we were forced to wait behind police tape beside the Washington Hilton. Connecticut Avenue was closed to traffic. My husband, the old hand at presidential sightings, rolled his eyes, feigning boredom and annoyance. Even though the walk home was delayed and I really needed to use the bathroom I was not bored or annoyed. I wanted to see the president.
I’m not a political person. Most of the time I manage to vote – thanks to peer pressure. Only recently have I learned the difference between donkeys and elephants, and my friends make sure I understand which team we root for. The president is a figure-head – an actor. But still, I’d like to see him in person.
Michelle got out of the limo. Nearby demonstrators held up signs and voiced objections about an obtuse issue. I wasn’t going to let them do that to My Figurehead! I applauded the first lady. (My husband thought I was possessed.) I applauded alone. I didn’t care. Surprised and confused by my feelings of….??? …princess-projection???…heaven forbid, patriotism??? I was caught up by feeling for the First Lady who speaks out for healthy lifestyles, cares about the nation’s children and families, visits hospitals, wears Lands End sweater sets, grows vegetables, and keeps bees which produce honey, from which her chefs make White House Beer.
It’s a wonderful country. Cheers!
Diane, that’s terrific. No kidding! and fun to read too. I like the clapping part………I see why you don’t move away from Washington……..it’s a city with life, a walking city, a city with a heartbeat.
I’ll let you know more about Italy when I recover a little more……….I’ve never walked, climbed hills and been so tired in my life………very uncivilized and un- laid-back way to visit anywhere.
Yay! You’re still writing…I’m laughing my head off :-))