Dinner with Obama

Posted on Monday, July 13, 2009 7:08:36 PM by lqcincinnatus at www.freerepublic.com

I dreamed I was invited to the White House for a private dinner with the President.

I was a respected businessman, with a factory that produces memory chips for computers and portable electronics. My invitation to dinner with an American President was an honor.

I checked my coat, was greeted by the Chief of Staff, and joined the President in a yellow dining room. We sat across from each other at a table draped in white linen. The Great Seal was embossed on the china. Uniformed staff served our dinner.

The meal was served, and I was startled when my waiter suddenly reached out, plucked a dinner roll off my plate, and began nibbling it as he walked back to the kitchen.

“Sorry about that,” said the President. “Andrew is very hungry.”

“I don’t appreciate…” I began, but as I looked into the calm brown eyes across from me, I felt immediately guilty and petty. It was just a dinner roll. “Of course,” I concluded, and reached for my glass. Before I could, however, another waiter reached forward, took the glass away and swallowed the wine in a single gulp..

“And his brother, Eric, is very thirsty.” said the President.

I didn’t say anything. The President is testing my compassion, I thought. I withheld my comments and decided to play along. I don’t want to seem unkind.

My plate was whisked away before I had tasted a bite.

“Eric’s children are also quite hungry.”

With a lurch, I crashed to the floor. My chair had been pulled out from under me. I stood, brushing myself off angrily, and watched as it was carried from the room.

And their grandmother can’t stand for long.”

I excused myself, smiling outwardly, but inside feeling like a fool. Obviously I had been invited to the White House to be sport for some game. I reached for my coat,=2 0to find that it had been taken. I turned back to the President.

“Their grandfather doesn’t like the cold.”

I wanted to shout, “that was my coat!” But again, I looked at the placid smiling face of my host and decided I was being a poor sport. I spread my hands helplessly and chuckled. Then I felt my hip pocket and realized my wallet was gone. I excused myself and walked to a phone on an elegant side table. I learned shortly that my credit cards had been maxed out, my bank accounts emptied, my retirement and equity portfolios had vanished, and my wife had been thrown out of our home. Apparently, the waiters and their families were moving in. The President hadn’t moved or spoken as I learned all this, but finally I lowered the phone into its cradle and turned to face him.

“Andrew’s whole family has made bad financial decisions. They haven’t planned for retirement, and they need a house. They recently defaulted on a subprime mortgage. I told them they could have your home. They need it more than you do.”

My hands were shaking. I felt faint. I stumbled back to the table and knelt on the floor. The Pres ident cheerfully cut his meat, ate his steak , and drank his wine. I lowered my eyes and stared at the small grey circles on the tablecloth that were water drops.

“By the way,” He added, “I have just signed an Executive Order nationalizing your factories. I’m firing you as head of your business. I’ll be operating the firm now for the benefit of all mankind. There’s a whole bunch of Erics and Andrews out there and they can’t come to you for jobs groveling like beggars.”

I looked up. The President dropped his spoon into the empty ramekin which had been his crème Brule. He drained the last drops of his wine. As the table was cleared, he lit a cigarette and leaned back in his chair. He stared at me. I clung to the edge of the table as if were a ledge and I were a man hanging over an abyss. I thought of the years behind me, of the life I had lived. The life I had earned with a lifetime of work, risk and struggle. Why was I punished? How had I allowed it to be taken? What game had I played and lost? I looked across the table and noticed with some surprise that there was no game board between us.

What had I done wrong?

As if answering the unspoken thought, the President suddenly cocked his head, locked his empty eyes to mine, and bared a million teeth, chuckling wryly as he folded his hands.

“You should have stopped me at the dinner roll,” he said.

Beck almost got it right!

I read an interesting article penned by Glenn Beck yesterday. In all honesty he made many great points but as with all the talking heads he once again only told the politically correct part of the story.

At some point during the day, I hope you’ll take time to think and reflect on what it is we’re truly celebrating on the 4th of July — our Independence Day. Of course the Declaration of Independence was signed on July 4th, 1776 but it’s so much more than that. On this day, 233 short years ago, a small group of men dedicated themselves to a higher purpose, an ideal they believed in so greatly, they signed their name to its expression and in doing so put their very lives at risk.

What Beck doesn’t point out but which if of ultimate importance in today’s world is that small group of men were all white and were not thinking of anything but the welfare of their own people. The fifty six men who believed in the strength of their people and their right to choose the path they wished to travel.

Of the 56 men who signed the Declaration of Independence:
Five were captured by the British as traitors, and tortured before they died. Twelve had their homes burned to the ground. Two lost sons serving in the Revolutionary Army, and two more had sons captured. Nine fought and died in the Revolutionary War.
If you ever feel like your lone voice can never be heard, that the political system isn’t set up for “regular” Americans to change the course of history, remember: The signers were flesh and blood, mortal men with a divinely-inspired aim.

We should all take a few moments today and everyday of the year to give thanks to these men who braved so much to give us the right to choose our own path. But what Glenn misses is these men put that divinely-inspired aim in the only place it could make a difference, behind the sights of a musket. It was not God that created America but lead and powder that made their voices heard in the Kings chambers across an ocean.

The Signers asked for nothing in return for their pledge, but I say that we show our thanks with a pledge of our own: To remember, to be grateful, and to carry on in their spirit. America is the greatest country this world has ever and will ever know, and it will stay that way so long as “we the people” remember that just like in 1776.

It will stay that way, who is this guy kidding. Is he referring to “we the people” that allows a non-citizen to occupy the White House or the left wing Marxist running congress while the gutless right cowers under their desks because they are afraid of being told their politically incorrect. While the whole bunch of useless carrion allows a private company to control the financial future of what was once a strong nation.

I put forth a question to Glenn Beck but like all others it will never receive an answer. I ask you Glenn is political correctness more important than the future of your country? If not I would be happy to send you a list of people you need to sit across from and openly challenge their views, opinions and most important the facts that they can bring in open and honest debate.