All The News That Fits

Where are we going?

Posted by Jeanne on November 15, 2008

“Thank you all for coming. In these days before I take office, it’s good to talk about what I have planned for this country, and more importantly, what I have in mind for its direction. We may not get there in one year or even in one term. Probably not even in two terms, if at all. But I have never been more hopeful that we will get there. I promise you, we as a people will get there.” Obama looked proudly around the table at his newly appointed staff.


Helen Thomas, Obama’s new spiritual advisor, squinted under the harsh and unflattering light of government issued florescent bulbs. “Where, exactly, is there?”


Obama cocked his head. Helen was a dear friend and he felt obligated to find her a position in his new cabinet. But sometimes, the questions she asked revealed a certain level of animosity toward him. He secretly wondered if she doubted his omnipotence. Rather than answer, he chose instead to ignore her. “I’d like to introduce everyone to my new Chief of Staff, Rahm Emanuel. He’ll be my right hand man in this administration.”


Joe Biden cleared his throat and shot a hurt look at the President-elect.


Obama turned quickly to Joe and explained, “You’re more like my left hand man, Joe. Equally as important, of course, just a little more left, since Rahm is more of a centrist. That’s just the way it has to be.”


Joe couldn’t hide his disappointment. “I’m your Vice President, Mr. President. Doesn’t that make me, de facto, your right hand man? I mean, doggone it, sir.”


All eyes turned quickly to Joe. “What?” Joe said.


Doggone it?” Obama repeated.


Joe shrugged. “You know what I mean. It’s just not fair.”


Obama looked disgusted. “As you know,” he continued, “Rahm has a long, illustrious career of putting it to the Republican Party. He’s not missing his middle finger for nothing, after all.” He cracked a smile in his usually stoic expression.


The staff laughed, while Rahm merely blushed. “I do my best. I even wake up wanting to put it to myself sometimes.”


“He’s also a former ballerina,” Joe chimed in. He was unable to hide the malice in his voice.

“A ballet dancer,” Rahm stressed. “Not a ballerina.”


“Whatever,” Joe said and shared a laugh with Helen.


Rahm seethed. “Hey why don’t you go f–“


“Friends, friends,” Obama said with a calming gesture. “We’re all on the same side here. Joe, you have your talents as being the longest serving Senator in Delaware’s history. And Rahm, you proudly served on the board of directors at Freddie Mac during its most scandalous moments. I’m proud to serve with you both.”


Rahm nodded thanks to the people in the room, who were outwardly impressed with his credentials.


Obama regained control of the situation. He smiled and sat erect in his chair. “Now you all know who is responsible for making this presidency a success–“


“Chris Matthews?” Helen interrupted.


“No, Helen, ” Obama fumed. “Not Chris Mathews. He’s responsible for getting me elected. YOU all are responsible for making the presidancy a success. Now I want you all to get out there and do it!”


“Do what?” Joe whined.


Obama rolled his weary eyes. “Get us to where we’re going, Joe.” He picked up a cup of coffee and scowled when he spilled it on his designer suit. “Great,” he said. “Has anyone picked up my dry cleaning today? I’ll need a new suit.”


“I did, Mr. President,” Colin said. “I had them pressed just like you like. And they used heavy starch on the shirts, as you instructed.”


“Good job, Colin,” Obama was proud. He had a great staff. “Are you all fired up?”


“Yes!” They shouted.


“Are you ready to go?”


“Yes!” They all stood up and fist bumped each other.

 

“You betcha,” Joe grumbled.


 Obama scowled at Joe. “What?”


“Hey, I liked Sarah. And her cute little sayings. They were catchy.” He winked at Helen.


No one in the room dared agree.

Obama moved on, but not before giving Joe a look of utmost disapproval. “Then lets go,” he finally said with passion. “Let’s take this country where it needs to go.”

After much cheering, Joe and Helen finally rose from the table and followed the others out of the room. Joe reached in a cabinet on the way out and retrieved an item that he passed to Helen. “Here. You’re going to need this where we’re going.”

“What is it?” she said.

Joe rolled his eyes and sighed. “A handbasket.”  

 

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