I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this USA headline: Obama’s vacation: lazy days, long dinners. It almost smacks of sarcasm, something we are unfamiliar with around here.
In between Libya's revolution, the financial markets' gyrations, the East Coast's biggest earthquake in a century and the impending wrath of Hurricane Irene, Obama finally had a full day to chill Thursday.
Evidence: a day at the beach with his family that stretched for nearly five hours, and an evening at a classic Martha's Vineyard restaurant that stretched for another three.
Perhaps this is the source of his pique: our photo embargo.
In a sign that Obama is truly vacationing, the traveling press corps didn't see him all day, despite following along in a motorcade.
I understand his frustration: everyone wanted to see the first couple on their return trip to the State Road restaurant, a “contemporary American tavern on the spectacular island of Martha's Vineyard” that’s located in the dry village of West Tisbury.
Here’s the best I can do: last year (again)
Somehow this retro-chic patchwork frock with tights look never gets old, does it?
Since the State Road restaurant is located in one of the many dry towns on Martha's Vineyard, they invited us to BYOB. So we did.
I know it may seem like a lot, but once again, ValJar came with us.
We also went to the (private) beach yesterday. As far as I know there was no problem with raw sewage this year. Just the threat of a pesky hurricane.
No wait, wrong kind of hurricane:
So basically just another day, another historic disaster. It’s become so routine that Big Guy just takes it all in stride any more. In fact, he’ll be making a statement about Hurricane Irene later today from our island residence (open press), but I have an advance draft of it for you:
Good morning. As you know, every day, Michelle and I go about our lives with duty, honor and pride. And neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night, nor the winds of change (Irene,) nor a nation challenged, will stay us from the swift completion of our vacation and my appointed round of golf. Ever.
If that sounds a bit familiar it’s because we’re on vacation and nobody felt like drafting a new statement so we just recycled the Postal Workers creed, which worked perfectly for the occasion:
Who every day go about our lives with duty, honor and pride. And neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night, nor the winds of change, nor a nation challenged, will stay us from the swift completion of our appointed rounds. Ever.
Except for Saturdays, in the near future.
In other news, I think the portrait of Big Guy that was in the Granary Gallery last year is still for sale if you’re interested.
You’ll recall that the portrait depicts Big Guy reading Steinbeck’s classic The Grapes of Wrath.
As I first reported last year, artists are really big on symbolism so I tried to figure out what message the painter was trying to convey with this affectation:
- He’s aware of Big Guy’s obsession with having a bunch of grapes
- It’s an illusion to Big Guy’s historic role in the country’s 2nd Great Depression
- It’s a reference to the plight of current-day “migrants” from Mexico, just looking for a job (along with millions of Americans)
- It’s a reminder of how much more hospitable the government run migrant camp in California was to the Joads than the private sector camps
Whatever it is, I don’t think it’s a good sign that it’s still for sale, and at a lower price. Oh, and did I mention that the second quarter growth was reported at an anemic 1%? Unexpectedly, of course. And Benny doesn’t have a single trick left up his sleeve.
Wow! We may have to think about changing our campaign slogan.
More like 1979. WTF?
Same as it ever was...