President Bush's Ranch
A opinion column I published in the Florissant Valley Forum last year, enjoy.
Not to long ago I was spending some time with the president on his Ranch in Texas. We where sitting on his back porch, sipping lemonade and immersed in a deep discussion on a variety of topics. Really you should see it, his ranch is quite lovely, well It has to be, I mean he’s the president, ruler of all the free world, anyway the sun was just beginning to set giving the late Texas shy a orange hazy look, the wayward tree’s swayed back and forth dropping leaves on the unsuspecting beautiful, lush green grass. We where silent for a moment until I began to speak:
“So George (were on a first name basis) how do you sleep at night? I mean you created an unjust war, even after most of your military advisors told you this cluster would occur, changed your reason for wanting to invade Iraq several times, invaded good people’s privacy, really you must have some good stuff in the White house medicine cabinet.”
The president was not upset at all by my remark in fact his round face made a little smirk exposing several age lines on his forehead.
“See Dan that’s the beautiful thing about uncertainly, you never really know, or understand the truth. How do you know the war is unjust?”
I paused and sat there a moment until I replied:
“Well you or anyone else hasn’t really sold me on this idea, Is Iraq really a threat to us? Sure didn’t look like seem like it. I mean come on there where no weapons of mass destruction found, no major chemical weapons located, what gives? I have friends stationed over there and they have no idea what’s going on, half the time their getting shot at or digging through a dump for Hum-vee parts for what? Besides what do you care it’s not going to be your kids out there getting shot, it’s not going to be your wife or mother getting a folded American flag at her front door, realizing her worst nightmare has became a reality, It’s going to be guys like me who shed the blood while you and your friends and family attend fancy balls, eat fine foods, and drink the best wine.”
The President sat there suspended in thought; his eyes gazed at the sun setting slowing on the sky. Still no anger was dispensed from him.
“Dan,” he paused reaching down to adjust his sleeve, “uncertainly can also be a very powerful ally.”
He paused again while his wife Laura refilled his glass with fresh lemonade, and did the same for me. Really if you ever get a chance to meet the president make sure you taste their lemonade it’s the best I’ve ever had.
“See it really doesn’t matter what’s true and what’s not true; it’s want you believe is true. What you have to understand is: all the Michael Moore loving, liberal hippies are going to believe that I’m the absolute worst person in the world, because that’s what they what to think. Oppositely all the conservative, religious types are going to side with me, not the mention the rich people, boy they love me. Think about it, you’re never going to find if Oswald acted alone or not but, you believe he did or didn’t; then it becomes true, at least to the person doing the thinking. Really, do you believe everything you see on T.V.?”
“Not really, just the Simpsons.”
Of course I was joking; the president actually has a pretty good sense of humor.
“Man I like that show, I love how they bash Clinton.” He president replied.
“With all due respect sir,” I said. “Clinton wouldn’t have started an unjust war, flushed social security down the toilet, and irritated the entire world.”
The president slowly shook his head.
“If Clinton would have done his job and got Bin Laden while he had the chance, no one would think of September 11 as a significant day. Not to mention the secrets he sold to the Chinese.”
“Is that true?” I said
“Well,” The president picked up a rubber dog toy reached back and tossed the ball onto the lush green grass, the ball bounced twice before disappearing into the darkness. Barney, the president’s Scottish terrier, ran with swiftly to retrieve it. “It’s what I believe.”
The President leaned back, sighed, and checked his watch.
“Well Dan it’s getting late, you know I have that meeting with whats his name tomorrow.”
I stood, allowing a second for the blood to circulate back throughout my body, shook hands with the president and took one last look at the ranch.
“Man, that’s some good lemonade,” I thought as I made my way out.
Not to long ago I was spending some time with the president on his Ranch in Texas. We where sitting on his back porch, sipping lemonade and immersed in a deep discussion on a variety of topics. Really you should see it, his ranch is quite lovely, well It has to be, I mean he’s the president, ruler of all the free world, anyway the sun was just beginning to set giving the late Texas shy a orange hazy look, the wayward tree’s swayed back and forth dropping leaves on the unsuspecting beautiful, lush green grass. We where silent for a moment until I began to speak:
“So George (were on a first name basis) how do you sleep at night? I mean you created an unjust war, even after most of your military advisors told you this cluster would occur, changed your reason for wanting to invade Iraq several times, invaded good people’s privacy, really you must have some good stuff in the White house medicine cabinet.”
The president was not upset at all by my remark in fact his round face made a little smirk exposing several age lines on his forehead.
“See Dan that’s the beautiful thing about uncertainly, you never really know, or understand the truth. How do you know the war is unjust?”
I paused and sat there a moment until I replied:
“Well you or anyone else hasn’t really sold me on this idea, Is Iraq really a threat to us? Sure didn’t look like seem like it. I mean come on there where no weapons of mass destruction found, no major chemical weapons located, what gives? I have friends stationed over there and they have no idea what’s going on, half the time their getting shot at or digging through a dump for Hum-vee parts for what? Besides what do you care it’s not going to be your kids out there getting shot, it’s not going to be your wife or mother getting a folded American flag at her front door, realizing her worst nightmare has became a reality, It’s going to be guys like me who shed the blood while you and your friends and family attend fancy balls, eat fine foods, and drink the best wine.”
The President sat there suspended in thought; his eyes gazed at the sun setting slowing on the sky. Still no anger was dispensed from him.
“Dan,” he paused reaching down to adjust his sleeve, “uncertainly can also be a very powerful ally.”
He paused again while his wife Laura refilled his glass with fresh lemonade, and did the same for me. Really if you ever get a chance to meet the president make sure you taste their lemonade it’s the best I’ve ever had.
“See it really doesn’t matter what’s true and what’s not true; it’s want you believe is true. What you have to understand is: all the Michael Moore loving, liberal hippies are going to believe that I’m the absolute worst person in the world, because that’s what they what to think. Oppositely all the conservative, religious types are going to side with me, not the mention the rich people, boy they love me. Think about it, you’re never going to find if Oswald acted alone or not but, you believe he did or didn’t; then it becomes true, at least to the person doing the thinking. Really, do you believe everything you see on T.V.?”
“Not really, just the Simpsons.”
Of course I was joking; the president actually has a pretty good sense of humor.
“Man I like that show, I love how they bash Clinton.” He president replied.
“With all due respect sir,” I said. “Clinton wouldn’t have started an unjust war, flushed social security down the toilet, and irritated the entire world.”
The president slowly shook his head.
“If Clinton would have done his job and got Bin Laden while he had the chance, no one would think of September 11 as a significant day. Not to mention the secrets he sold to the Chinese.”
“Is that true?” I said
“Well,” The president picked up a rubber dog toy reached back and tossed the ball onto the lush green grass, the ball bounced twice before disappearing into the darkness. Barney, the president’s Scottish terrier, ran with swiftly to retrieve it. “It’s what I believe.”
The President leaned back, sighed, and checked his watch.
“Well Dan it’s getting late, you know I have that meeting with whats his name tomorrow.”
I stood, allowing a second for the blood to circulate back throughout my body, shook hands with the president and took one last look at the ranch.
“Man, that’s some good lemonade,” I thought as I made my way out.
posted by Dan Sonderman at
6:29 PM
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