What I like about your Prez is his ability to remain cool under the most dire situations. Lois Lerner pleads the Fifth and he’s cool. The Supreme Court hands him his head repeatedly and he’s cool. Putin takes over more and more pieces of the world and he’s cool with that. Putin takes off his shirt and he’s cool with that (sort of). The teenager running North Korea evidences absolute certifiability every day and he’s cool with that. Trey Gowdy destroys that IRS gnome (wasn’t he the most “soulless” looking guy you ever saw?) and he’s cool. NSA is snooping on all of us and he’s cool with that. His wife worries about the world’s supply of arugula and he’s cool. ISIS is beheading hundreds and he’s cool with that. Johnny Gomes gets beaned and he’s cool. A couple professional athletes “come out” and he’s cool with that. Hillary’s book tour goes flat and (I imagine) he’s particularly cool with that. Lois Lerner’s emails to and from the White House are missing and I sense he’s very cool with that. Isis is taking over huge hunks of Iraq and he’s cool. ISIS has liberated some of Sadam’s WMDs and he’s cool with that. Our southern border is a sieve, made with really big mesh that elephants could stroll through, and he’s cool with that. Mesh so big that ISIS terrorist creeps could fly big aircraft through without a mishap and he’s cool with that.
He’s so cool that he unveiled yet another hitherto unknown aspect of his endlessly surprising and mysterious persona …he not only smokes, drinks beer, plays basketball (failing to even touch iron on a standing layup with his dominant hand), wears funny shorts, golfs badly (presumably badly, since his golf scores are as secret as his medical and academic records) (I wonder what it costs to keep your golf scores sealed?), throws like a girl, craves arugula (my lovely wife says it tastes “peppery”…who knew?), gives guns to drug cartels so they can murder Mexican citizens and our own border agents…so the rest of us stooges will realize how inherently evil guns are…and … he also …plays pool …while busloads of children/adult-looking bearded males pour across our southern border.
Now, if my Daddy could visit me once more from Heaven and we discussed these things about Obama, I’m sure he’d stop me short when I mentioned, among the many other attributes of “our first black president,” Obama’s pool playing. Dad did NOT approve of me frequenting the two pool halls in my home town. Bernie’s Pool Hall was my favorite and the more staid of either establishment. 25 cents for a game of snooker. And old Bernie was cool. But Dad never went there. And he gave me strict orders to stay away from such places. It was unfair! A guy had to have something to occupy his time between the end of basketball/football/baseball practice and going home to bed. You couldn’t waste time phoning your girlfriend (Dad had an internal stop watch). What were you supposed to do? Go do your homework? Talk about “cruel and unusual!” (By the way, I hasten to mention, in all three of those sports the coaches strongly discouraged throwing, tackling, setting a pick-and-roll or doing anything “like a girl.”) (STRONGLY DISCOURAGED!)
Dad died ten years ago…so I doubt he’d understand anything about your current Prez. I don’t understand him and I don’t think that’s because I didn’t fall far from Daddy’s Tree. He certainly would not understand letting Tojo or Hitler recover anything his fellow soldiers had bought with their blood. (Dad commanded a light Stuart tank.)
Does anybody understand things like that?
A funny thing about Dad came to light when he visited me when I was about 45 years old. I had a pool table and asked him if he’d like to play a game. He eyed the table disdainfully. Complete disinterest written all over his wizened face. Then he “shot the eyes out” of the ivory. Who knew?
Ps: If my Dad were to visit me today from Heaven, we might play pool again, but we would not waste even a moment taking about a failed president.
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