In times of foreclosing Bankstas, enormous corporate Checks & Bonuses, without rhyme or reason, our rhythm and balance seem out of season like rollercoaster rides in winter, our arms in hold up position, for good reason. Off balanced “Right” candidates cloud views of Yemen packages, violent Tea stompers and Alito’s shameful corporate allegiances.
Monday death called — Wednesday trip to Mom forestalled — Friday, funeral of Mother’s only sister. Then across the windy miles I race, until Jefferson’s whisper, it’s his place, the Mother of Presidents, locked in oral combat for wealth of the common, with Commonwealth at loss for healthy plan for real challenges at hand, AG practices stealth. Still bright sun, but cold wind funeral now but a breeze centering myself.
Until he arrives it’s likely you see, that I’m the only political blogger among the locals wanded and passed through before me, but like badge of courage, I proudly wear my press ID. Being on White House list, among the pressed press with deadlines, I’m the only blogger invited by the President, at least for this tiny moment in time.
So I prologue for thousands waiting in Charlottesville Pavilion exterior lines; Enduring the nip of Fall standing tall a sea of humanity, as preamble to DC Rally for Sanity. It’s not yet the hour hoped for to warm our bank accounts and ease our unemployment pain, with “Happy Days are Here Again.” Not yet fulfilled Emma Lazarus promise to welcome to our shore all who ask, seek and knock at our door.
It’s Friday before mid-term Election and just arriving from death’s occasion, I am pained inside and out from head to toe, so I embrace setting sun’s invasion with afterglow. Saturday, I must write, record, edit, mix down and air for the first time alone, reporter radio show. However, tonight there is no time to dwell on book ends of funeral done and broadcast to come, for all is as planned. We get the word, a giant eagle the sky fills. Reserved lanes open as evening cool gives way to traffic jams and night chills. Promised new dawn of sun warmed thrills, come when Air Force One lands in darkness still.
I stand with those invited in to report a Presidential visit, to save a young one term Congressman in his fight to lift America up and out of the chains of unemployment and lost dreams visited by those who passed over while going through our finances, sinking us with their economic outsources.
First speaks Mayor Dave, then Perriello Congressman, but with the entrance of White House press pool, I’m no longer the only blogger having fun. He’s here they cheer, offering masterful enthusiasm gap closing. Forcing my eyes for just a moment from camera lens, to see live what’s taking place, it’s the President of the United States and me face to face, as we bridge time and distance together inviting America to that higher place.