The Secret Service
A Time to Booster Our Re-Gathering – Internationally and Individually – Best of TREMR & OpEdNews.com Headline
OMG, how we non-Billionaire Americans love to be led by the nose by a myopic media lead by the nose by our collective Corporatism’s credit card creatives creating collective cravings catapulting Middle-class cash, into the clutches of controllers controlling the controllable.
Our Country Tis of the domestic oligarchs conning citizens into condemning Commander-in-Chief as the causer of current closeness to crash – all while overlooking cosmic Constitution re-construct by Conservative Carpetbaggers casting convoys of Ukrainians from control craving governor to our country’s capital city.
Aren’t we more counterproductive, than resurrected, when the trinity of believers’ descendants of Abraham’s, celebrate century-held beliefs, with violence in the holy city, against each other?
Our 2022 world needs fewer politicos grandstanding with imposed gas-guzzling bus trips hoping to raise their lone star above state shamer Ron’s desire for an increased birthrate, presumably to outnumber those who dare to say Gay during Springtime beach bar hopping.
Let us make time for a re-gathering of: the kindness of strangers, the coming together of partisans as bi-partisan, the prayers that launch us into the self-sacrificing of Good Samaritan actions – rather than the summarily senatorial, cease and desist dictates of corporatism’s money changers’ privy council betting on their expectation to reap what they have sown in the seedy profiteering of an overaged Senate boss yearning to breathe free from, one person one vote – vowing, the buck of We the People stops here with no further confirmations favoring objective Jurisprudence over the corporate appointed need for a GOP lock stepping America backward with, only supreme conservatives need apply.
Time to re-gather and remember, it is not the elected who make America of, by and for the people, but those who vote to elect them.
Seeing the re-gathering of Biden/Obama together in the White House again was heartwarming, indeed uplifting, in a year out of control: a planet being ignored while simultaneously raped to death, a foreign despot imitating the trumped in violently trying to overthrow a free and independent state and a near blackout not only of world peace but in our sincere individual and international collective ceremonious celebration of artistic excellence, overshadowed by conduct unbecoming.
Like the frog swimming gleefully in the pot of water simmering before coming to a deadly boil, losing one’s way can appear imperceptible until the very moment we see Dorian Gray in our mirror.
Indeed, we have strayed off our intended exceptional path, but even before 1776, failing to prevent our Civil War, maintaining the straight and narrow proved severely challenging.
Consistently proving our two steps forward and one back, we have maintained the struggle of a house divided: 30-40% preferring the Conservative POV that full rights and privileges of American citizenship remain in the control of a few powerful paler men vs. 60-70% Liberal/Independent population who believe justice for all means all are created equally entitled to the rights and benefits of our evolving Constitution – even as we self-inflict our swinging political pendulum.
Dwarfing the aftermath of FDR’s 1945 death feeding frenzy by Robber Barron’s descendants, on 8 November 2016 Americans lit a fire at the fork in the road of our ever-increasing North v. South path to war.
Some chose The Right path to decapitate our Republic, others left to preserve, protect and defend America, planet earth, and all life upon it – both opting to divide and conquer.
Since then, we have lost an abundance of what is good about, and for us:
- Deaths of Beloved creative artists
- Trusted Diplomate Madeline Albright
- A Secret Service above repute
We blind resurrection to the miracles of Ukraine, the victories of CODA, and the confirmation of Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson
Too often, we’re directed to deny, cause and effect truth, succumbing instead to GOP puppeteers grinding our noses in superficialities, programming us to fail to see the acceleration of our, American Dream, increasingly plowed into nightmares, our hearts into stone against neighbors, as we are sleep-walked pass appreciation for what is really essential to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness: the peace that passes all understanding – if together, we can keep it: Let There Be Peace on Earth: And Let it Begin with Me.
Dear Rachel Maddow, Headlined to H4 10/5/14 opednews.com
My first and only visit to the White House, in March 2011 was to do a story on First Lady Michelle Obama’s launching of StopBullying.com, for TheReasonableVoice.com.
No fence jumping; I walked through the guarded gate when static next summoned via guard house exterior speaker. On the approved list; my identification, credentials presented and accepted; White House Press Pass granted and swiped; told to continue through the opposite door; no further instruction. All seemingly routine.
However, when I stepped through the door onto the White House grounds, there were two sidewalks: on the right, descending to what looked like an old weathered and neglected green house; to my left, a walkway leading directly to my destination. As is my custom, I chose the Left path, straight to The People’s House.
Reaching a military guard, who seemed perplexed to see me, he asked, is someone with you? No, I answered. He inquired about my destination. The East Room. Another glance around, he then, indicating the now infamous unlocked WH door, said, the East Room was through the doors and to the left.
I continued, oh sir, would you please leave the umbrella outside. As it was a gift from my wife, I expressed concern about getting it back. He assured me, will do sir. Still I took the precaution of hiding it behind a large stone planter before entering.
Stepping inside The White House, I walked past two men, before pausing to enjoy the history surrounding me. Then, the second, Oh Sir. One of the men in black asked, is someone with you? No. Then, who told you to come in here? Indicating the door through which I had just come, without my umbrella, I answered, the guard. Looks followed, toward outside uniform, each other, then back to me. Where are you going? The East Room. Right through those doors, as they pointed down a short hallway.
Thanking them, I walked past a stairway to the East Room entrance, entering the long rectangular room, much of which was roped off to keep TV cameras and reporters separated from VIPs.
Armed with Nikon, and in my pockets, MP3 recorder and Flip, I stepped up to the rope, and took it all in. Then a female voice said gently, oh sir, is someone with you? I answered I was here for the First Lady’s anti-bullying forum. She told me it wasn’t starting for at least another hour, so I decided a preemptive men’s room strike was appropriate.
Retracing my steps to exit, she, slightly firmer said, oh sir, now that you’re in here, you’ll have to stay. Hmm, so using the slightly too high for leaning comfort, mantle, but perfect for Flip and MP3 positioning, I stayed, waited and standing.
By now Rachel, you’ve realized that your reporting on recent incursions into the White House, prompted me to tell my story. It’s not to further embarrass the Secret Service who, in my case I guess, supposed, someone unaccompanied, walking in a non-threatening manner both outside and inside the White House, must be, well, somebody, but rather to point out how my visit ended – providing whatever inkling of reassurance it may.
Enter the audience of DC luminaries, special guests who in part inspired Mrs. Obama’s forum against all forms of bullying, then the First Lady and finally, arguably the least protected President of the United States, since John F. Kennedy, Barack Obama.
After the speeches, and Valerie Jarrett Q&A, it was over: media asked to wait for the room to clear, but, ultimately, giving up on conversing DC crowd, was herded out of the back East Room door and pass the up stairway, where I exited the parade to exit and retrieve my umbrella. Oh sir. Explaining it was the way I had entered, failed to assuage the young shepherd.
So downstairs I went ending up in a dank smelling over crowded holding area, with a cheap cardboard looking sign with an image of The White House above the inscription: The White House, Washington.
It was in this room that I photographed Laura Smalley who lost her 11-year old son Ty Field after two years of school bullying.
Waiting near the exit (two sets of old swinging doors), I felt the chill of the rainy day as people came and went, and decided to leave. Pushing through the two door pairs resembling a saloon exit, I spotted a sidewalk interview, and, not wanting to walk through it, again took the path less travelled, stopping only for exterior White House photo opts, which included my first, oh sir, military guard in the background.
To capture the White House through a tree with gnarly shaped limbs, I navigated around driveway puddles onto the soggy lawn. Raising my camera for the perfect shot, I was oh sir interrupted. This time so characteristically different, instead of clicking the camera, I turned and saw a uniformed guard who asked simply, what are you doing? I began to explain the terrific shot I was about to get, when the Allstate’s Dennis Haysbert like voice said, don’t do that sir, walk toward me.
He looked both surprised and pleased to see my press pass, saying, this is your first time here isn’t it? Yes. He asked for my pass, deactivated it and then explained, while I had chosen the direct path to The White House, I should have stayed on the path from guard house to press room, adding the next time you’re here, don’t step off that path, ok sir. Yes sir.
My Rod Sterling moment, however: when departing the press room, I discovered, leaning against the wall near the second set of saloon doors, my umbrella.
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