CHIHUAHUAS FOR CHANGE

Be sure to scroll down when you see this picture.

Magic Margot Shoebox is a collection point for all that I hold dear - and that's a lot. My recent inspiration is Don Floyd's new blog thecaptainandthomasine.

The original title of my blog "Chihuahuas for Change" popped into my head two years ago when I was looking for a place to "store" all the information I accumulated on Sarah Palin. I've since dumped that information as others have done a far better job researching and accumulating.


Life is about change and since I have darling Libby the chihuahua the title seems to still be fresh.

KINDNESS

One can pay back the loan of gold, but one dies forever in debt to those who are kind.

"Nullius in verba" Take no one's word for it.
Do your own research.

Success if going from one failure to the next with enthusiasm. Winston Churchill

tracking

Tracking

SHOEBOX


I told you this is a shoebox and we all know that we simply put stuff into a shoebox in no particular order. That's how things are going to appear here. When something whaps me over the head you will be the first to know.

Right now, I want to tell you about my favorite blog in the whole wide world - Margaret and Helen. Hope you go read their post called "I can see November" - while there note their statistics. A grandson set this site up and it's been around the world several times. Margaret and Helen have been friends for over sixty years and counting.

http://margaretandhelen.wordpress.com/

Don Floyd and I have been friends for more than thirty years and counting. We first became pen pals in the late 70's. We are cousins and share a passion for genealogy. My major project this year was helping Don get his book "The Captain and Thomasine" published. Will give you more details in later post.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

GEORGE BUSH INAUGURAL - January 20, 2001


Life is made up of strange twists and turns.  On December 18th I was in the hospital in St. Petersburg Florida about to undergo surgery for a Belgium accident of two days earlier.  One short month later I was on a plane to Washington DC to attend the inaugural of “Present-elect” Bush.  Truly modern medicine is wonderful for it had patched me back together in less time than it took to determine the outcome of the election of 2000!

My recovery was supported by many friends who generously contributed flowers, food, cards and physical assistance to my recovery.  Many of these same friends are Democrats, and it is to them that I dedicate this short description of the gala events that I attended in Washington.  First, let me say that Steve and I went to the inaugural from a sense of curiosity.  We sought a catharsis to remove the horrible memory of my accident as well as “closure” for the most bazaar presidential election of the twentieth century. 

We flew to Washington on Juary 18th through Winston Salem where our plane was twice delayed in take-off caused by air traffic back-up at National Airport (now named for Ronald Reagan).  When we finally landed we saw acres of tightly packed private jets huddled in the early gloom of a January evening.  Obviously, the Texans beat us to town in time for the opening ceremonies at the Lincoln Memorial scheduled for 6:00PM.  However, we were the beneficiaries of the festivities that shot a huge display of fireworks over the Potomac just as we crossed the river.  If we hadn’t known better we would have thought that the fireworks were a special welcome for us alone.  (There’s more rejoicing in heaven over the return of one lost sinner…)  could it be that the Republicans thought we had joined their fold and were celebrating? 

When Steve and I decided to attend the Inaugral we realized we would be like “whores in church”, and I realized that more than one glass of wine at any function might cause me to “blow our cover”.  Here we were the only two Democrats in town whose arrive was announced with fireworks!  Life is indeed strange.

Our hotel was located just steps from “The Hill” as the Capital building is affectionately known by insiders, and appropriately enough the hotel was named The George!  What wonderful irony was beginning to unfold?    The lobby of “The George” was clotted with good Republican ladies snuggled in their full length mink coats.  Over the beds in our room was a huge Andy Warholisque copy of two thirds of a dollar bill featuring the standard picture of George Washington upon which was superimposed a portrait of a younger George Washington.  The whole was done in lurid reds, greens, yellows and fuchsia.

First there was the sudden announcement of the Jesse Jackson “love child” and then the rains started.  At first the weeping was soft with just a tear or two running down the cheek of the windows.  By morning the whole of Washington was awash in a flood of tears that collected in cold dark puddles.  The sun stayed in bed the whole of Friday January 19th claiming  symptoms of general malaise and depression.  In order to preserve our Republican image we ordered Continental Breakfast in our room at the Republican price of $20.00 per person and dressed in our finest for the first official event which was a luncheon reception at the very prestigious Hay-Adams Hotel overlooking the White House.  The party was given by Phillip Morris in honor of congressman Roy Blount with no expense spared.  The entire rooftop of the Hotel had been enclosed with Plexiglass windows, satin tenting, huge bouquets of roses and patriotic blue paneling decorated with overlays of gold stars.  We ate their food, smoozed with the congressman and admired the view and left feeling sure that our performance as Republicans would certainly receive a nomination at Academy Award time.  The city continued to weep all afternoon and the Washington Monument hid its head in fog.

Steve made an attempt to attend the swearing in ceremony, but returned damp and cold to “the George” just in time to watch the ceremony on television.  Even the television cameras seemed to shed a few tears as they recorded the ceremony.  The day grew even more cold and dark as we left the hotel for the parade.  It took a bit of looking, pushing and shoving using Margot’s wheel chair as a battering ram, but eventually we got through the street protestors and into the warm confines of The Texas Cattleman’s Association office on Pennsylvania Avenue.  Once again we found ourselves locked in the embrace of Republicanism as we enjoyed the buffet lunch and front row parade seats offered by this lobbying group.   Everyone in the room was from Texas and spoke with the Texas twang we tried so hard to imitate in order to keep our cover.  The accent might have worked, but certainly our clothes gave us away for we were not wearing the huge silver jewelry inlaid with cabochons of turquoise that is so favored by the Texas natives.  Some wore belts that could never have allowed them to pass through a metal detector.  They alternated watching the parade out the window and watching the Clinton long goodbye on television.  They threw verbal epithets at the television and would have thrown tomatoes had there been any handy.  Steve and I were keenly aware at that moment that if they discovered that we were Democrats they could easily have turned their wrath to us.  Like Brer Rabbit “we lay low”.

Our vantage perch was directly above the protestors so that we had both views of the parade.  The weather became colder and wetter and still they carried their signs and marched back and forth. 

Inaugural evening was crowned by the balls.  The one we attended was decorated the way one would expect to find for homecoming at an affluent college.  Cavernous tents stretched from the building to the street in order to protect guests from the weather.  Inside the white tents were draped miles of “Smylax” vine to soften the edges.  The National Guard Armory building that is roughly the size of a football field was entirely carpeted in soft blue.  Drinks were a la carte after waiting in a long line.  The photographic line was longer still and seemed to be the main occupation for those who chose not to dance and in addition provided a perfect place to people watch.  Margot’s long gown hid her ankle cast but she certainly enjoyed the convenience of having a wheel chair for resting in a long line.

George and Laura arrived around 10:00 PM and danced a step or two before leaving.  We stayed until almost midnight, collected our commemorative gold embossed Champagne glasses and headed for the car.  The great torrents of tears were lessening and in fact had changed to soft sobs of snow as though the city itself sought to disappear. 

Sunday morning was a miracle.  At last the indefinite was over, the deed was done and with a sigh, Washington put on its brightest face and sought to smile its way to the future.  The sky was bright blue and every surface was covered in heavy white snow.  We must go on no matter what and we must put on the brightest possible face in order to do it.

In an act of Democratic charitableness we took our Republican friends on a whirlwind driving tour of the city.  First we visited Arlington Cemetery then down the Potomac to lunch just before Mount Vernon followed by a drive through the old city of Georgetown, past all the memorials and a final run up the Virginia side of the Potomac along the Mt Vernon Parkway to its end at the CIA complex.

Everyone knows the CIA is in Washington and everyone knows where it is, but it is so typical that the sign at the entrance reads “George Bush Center for Intelligence”  No kidding.  We tried to take a picture, but were seen by the guards who ran both drivers license and tag through their computer and told us that if we ever came back we would be arrested for trespassing.  Remember, you heard it here first, George Bush does have Intelligence and its hidden at the end of the George Washington Memorial Parkway in McLean Virginia.  Is this Washington’s best kept secret?

We returned to “The George” Hotel, slept peacefully beneath the Andy Wharolisque George Washington picture and departed from the Ronald Reagan airport eternally grateful that Clinton said he would be with us always!

June 5, 2008

While cleaning up my computer I found this piece, and since it is the historic day after Barack  Obama received enough votes to be the Democratic nominee I thought it appropriate to write the end of the story.

Surely Mother Nature could see what we only dreaded.  Indeed she wept bitterly on January 20th 2001.  Is it possible that the events of the past eight years can have been so bad?  Our suspicion of George Bush was more than confirmed.  We knew he was an idiot from the beginning, but put our hopes in his receiving guidance from Vice president Cheney.  How could we know that the Vice President would come to be called “Vice” and was truly just this side of a mad man.

The Bush presidency has been a complete disaster, more than can be told here.  I cannot recall a single thing that he did right.  Only last week his press secretary Scott Mc Clellen released a book detailing what we knew all along about the conditions in the White House.  In addition in 2004 John Dean wrote a book “Worse Than Watergate” again revealing all the awful occurrences during this president’s administration.

How can people fail to see the harm that has been done to our country?  The coming election will be between John McCain and Barack Obama.  We are hoping that Barack will give a lift to the country’s standing in the world and will be a tonic to start the healing of our nation.

We have been torn apart by people like Karl Rove who practice just this short of treason.  They get people all stirred up over gun control, a woman’s right to control her own body and gay people who want legal protection for their commitment.  All the time they ignore our economy, health care, the awful damage we have done in Iraq and our failure to resolve disputes with enemies before resorting to force.  Our environment is probably past the tipping point and our gasoline costs $4.50 a gallon.  Is it any wonder that Mother Nature wept so bitterly on January 20th 2001 and then hid herself beneath the blanket of snow?

I am now 66 years old and will probably survive just fine, but my heart aches for the tribulations that await my children and the 6.5 grandchildren.  What a dismal outlook for their futures.  Barack Obama is our only hope.  May Mother Nature smile on him.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.