Coffee in My Garden – at the White House
In case you missed it, we are in the midst of a Twilight Zone episode right here in the good old U.S. of A.
In case you haven’t heard, previously friendly park rangers of our once respected (now maligned) National Park Service are locking tourists in their hotel rooms, chasing citizens through the woods lest they dare enjoy the fall colors in the parks they pay for. Our once esteemed (now reviled) public servants (in name only) are towing legal citizens’ cars and ticketing them while welcoming illegal aliens to the Washington D. C. Mall where taxpayers are forbidden to tread (I kid you not), gifting them with portapotties, stages, sound systems, and politicians that we paid for while blocking off our scenic overlooks lest some wayward tourist dare take a picture of Mount Rushmore. I’m surprised they haven’t issued red hot pokers for rangers to gouge tourists’ eyes out.
They seem to be under the impression that they are the overlords and we are the serfs. They seem to have forgotten entirely that they work for us.
Emboldened by their successful torture of tourists, they decided to block World War II veterans who only wanted to see their memorial. (Was that really so much to ask?)
Veterans from all parties came together to right this wrong and removed the offensive barricades only to have all of their work undone the next day by workers who were supposedly on furlough at a cost of far many more dollars than normal operation would have cost. Spite House rules.
We can’t seem to control our borders and keep those pesky illegal aliens, terrorists and God only knows what else (because frankly, we’re not watching) out of the country, but by golly, we can sure keep a 90-year-old veteran in a wheelchair away from his memorial!
Our government’s less than wise decision to bite the hand that feeds it is juvenile, petty, and utterly ridiculous.
If I were in charge, I would dock the president’s and his minions’ pay times a trillion for every spiteful cent spent in keeping us away from our property. I would boot him from the People’s House – the house we pay for which he thinks he can keep us out of – forgetting that we are the landlords.
I would bring all our troops home and let the president and his park service lackeys defend the country for a while since they think they’re so big and bad. Upon their return they would be welcomed by barry-cades from coast to coast – oceans included.
I would make them volunteer for life at a veteran’s hospital, tending wounds of honorable men and women incurred by keeping the president and his minions’ ungrateful selves free. I would have them personally apologize to each veteran they disrespected, starting with the oldest and going right down the line to the lowliest private fresh out of boot camp. Since there are so many of us, that could take a while.
I would have them put a fresh white rose on the grave of each veteran who gave their life in this country’s service.
I would give each American citizen a lifetime pass to our parks (except present park service personnel, who would be banned for life) and return said parks to the states on the condition that they behave themselves and not be snots about it.
I would make the president and park service goons empty their vacation funds to reimburse each terrorized tourist for their hotel rooms and plane fare and write each one a note of apology, to be hand-delivered in person on foot, or by swimming if said tourists happen to live an ocean or two away.
And about that White House Garden.
I really thought we had something in common – a love of gardening.
I honestly believed you were a true gardener. I believed everything you said about the importance of vegetables and exercise and the joy of watching things grow.
It has recently come to my attention that since the semi-shutdown, the White House garden has not been tended.
That is unacceptable.
That garden was paid for by the taxpayers. We trusted you to take care of it. Instead, you’re letting it go to seed. Worse yet, you are letting perfectly good vegetables rot. So much for caring for the poor. Those vegetables could and should be eaten by someone.
Let’s move out to the garden, shall we, and pick a few veggies for dinner? Bring the girls. Bring their friends. In fact, this would be a great bi-partisan activity – perhaps your husband, Harry Reid, and John Boehner could negotiate while hoeing squash and weeding between the rows.
It’s a shame your husband didn’t bring fresh veggies from our garden to his stop at the food pantry. I’m sure they would have appreciated it.
And have you seen the size of those squirrels, Michelle? Real live American citizens may be starving (well, not the ones that loaded up during the EBT card snafu at Walmart, but real out of work citizens). You might want to introduce those sumo-sized squirrels to your “Let’s Move” campaign.
If the legions of gardeners on the White House payroll, children on field trips, senators, and congresspeople aren’t enough to get it all done, I’ll be happy to come up there and help. Better yet, why don’t we open it to all the people who have been laid off of late? I’d rather do that than see all of that food go to waste.
I’ll even spring for coffee.