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April 01, 2009
'I kissed the President and I liked it.'
The Romance novel cover is a parody, this is not
After completing my assigned duties as a volunteer at President Obama's townhall meeting yesterday, it was time for the program to begin, and I didn't have a seat. Most of the volunteers didn't have seats; we were expected to watch from alongside one wall, unless we got lucky and found an actual empty chair. But as I was trying to get out of the way of the Secret Service and a stray cameraman, a fella looked up and said, “Oh, do you need a seat? Let me move this stuff ...”Dare you to read the rest over the jump ...I was in the front row, to the right of the podium. The invocation was just ending ...
An introduction, and then the President was at the podium, 12 feet away from me. It took everything in my power not to drag out the Velcro and rubber bands to fling myself up there and stick to him. The crowd's reaction was instant, loud, compelling, infectious. Frantically and joyously clapping their hands, screaming his name. OBAMA OBAMA OBAMA! I happily joined in. We volunteers had been ... well, let's say “encouraged” to comport ourselves with dignity and composure. Yeah, yeah, screw that, it's O-time now, baby!
I was already stupid insane. When I wasn't taking pictures, I was watching every move he made. And then he took off his suit jacket. I have always had a thing for a well-constructed man's back in a crisp white shirt. Fine. Mmmm hmmm.
He spoke for about 10 minutes, then took questions from the audience. Without notes or a teleprompter, he answered them eloquently and with genuine emotion. If I hadn't been an Obama Mama before, I was now. I was completely enraptured and captivated. Someone called out, “I love you, Obama!” and he replied, “I love y'all, too,” chuckling as he said it. He used the entire stage, moving like a sleek lion, looking into the eyes of 3,000 people, resting on one, then another's face, his hand frequently stretched out as if to try and touch us, or the future.Yep, Beverly, we do know what you mean. Heh.And then he closed it down, put a stamp on it and mailed it to the world. We were on our feet, screaming for him, and I realized when he stepped down that he was going to walk around the perimeter of green fence rails surrounding the podium to shake hands and press some California flesh.
He started on the far side, away from me. The crowd caught on and the air in the building became thin and frantic. I began to panic a little; people were starting to rush forward, and I was right up front, but the Secret Service was ON it, looking over and ordering people to back up (nobody f***s with the Secret Service).
Denis, the gentleman who'd unknowingly saved me a seat, had my camera in his hand. I'd been telling him how much I wanted a picture with the President. Denis kept saying, “Just wait until I tell you. Stay right there and turn this way ...” For a few moments, I caught glimpses of the President coming down the line, people everywhere, all over and around him, like when you pour gravy on rice ~ he was saturated with hands, arms, bodies, the Secret Service like a safety net around his back and to the sides.
I looked up into the eyes of the President, and he looked down into mine. I laid my left hand on his bare right arm, thrust my right hand into his, and said, “I've been waiting for you since I was 12 years old. Thank you, Mr. President.” I stood as tall as my 5' could reach (he's 6 feet 90 or something), raised my head and leaned in, and he leaned down towards me. Suddenly, I kissed him on the cheek. I don't know why, I had nothing else to say that wouldn't take 20 minutes, I kissed him, and he didn't pull away. There was one of those kinda-sorta-almost shoulder hugs, not really touching, almost there, so I kissed him again, and again he didn't pull away. And damn, if I didn't kiss him again! He smiled down at me ~ he looked directly into my eyes ~ and said, simply, “Thank you.”
It was over. He moved on. My heart was in my head, I was upside down and right side up, all at the same time, in the rabbit hole on a bus being driven by Hunter S. Thompson and every last one of the Founding Fathers. I felt dizzy, yet more solid than I had in years. I wondered why I wasn't crying; I'll cry for a good shoe sale, but not now. There was no reason to cry; I'd had a “moment” with my President, and not just a moment, a FREAKIN' EXCELLENT GODDAMN MOMENT!
My new friend Denis returned my camera, and I looked anxiously ~ he'd done it! I had a picture with the President! Not full faces, but it's me, and it's him. (When did I get so old and jowly?)
“Mr. President.” The unbridled absolute joy of saying those words to the man for whom I'd worked so hard ~ I'm teary-eyed now, thinking back. We'd been told repeatedly that as volunteers at an official presidential event, we were representing the office of the President and that our behavior, our work, our actions would reflect upon that office. We weren't allowed to speak to the press; what if someone said something idiotic? It could be an embarrassment to the President.
I flashed on an old episode of “West Wing,” one in which Josiah Bartlett's presidency was in great peril, and a scene from that show suddenly became very real for me. The camera lingered on each of Bartlett's inner circle; one after the other, they repeated the words, “I serve at the pleasure of the President.”
Finally, I know what that means.
ALERT: And in case people think that Beverly Haut is a hoax, she was quoted in the OC Register last October
Barack Obama spent an estimated $4 million tonight a on a half-hour infomercial to try and close the deal for the presidency with the American people. And Orange County Democrats loved it."It was all I'd hope it would be and more," said Beverly Haut from Aliso Viejo, who describes herself as a retired paralegal and stand-up comedian. "I'm crying tears of joy and hope."
Posted by Darleen at April 1, 2009 06:30 AM
Comments
I masturbated thinking of Sarah Palin once.
Posted by: another guy not ML at April 1, 2009 11:54 PM