Mister President

By

Marc J. Yacht

 

“Yes, here they come! They’re turning onto Carlisle Avenue.  You’re getting an eyewitness account from your very own Robert Lowe, WSUN radio, downtown Fairmont.” The tall lanky commentator held his mike in one hand and gestured with the other. “Just look at those motorcycles, four abreast, at least 15, 20 rows, the sirens are wailing and red lights are flashing.  I’m on the roof of the Fairmont Hotel looking down onto Main Street surrounded by the President’s own security forces.

 

Why the whole town must be lined up on the streets for a glimpse of our President. Yes sir, the President of these here United States.  Now, I can see them, the limousines, four no five and jogging along side are the President’s bodyguards.  Uh oh, they just pushed a couple of people back from the car.  I think they hit that man.  Some police on horse back are pushing others out of the way. What was that?”  Lowe raised the binoculars.  “Somebody threw what looks like an apple, no definitely an egg, right on the windshield.  There goes a tomato, splat, right on the side of the second limo.  Woo, now look at that, it looks like a head of lettuce bouncing off the roof of the third limo.  More police are pushing the crowd away from the limos motoring down Main Street.  That egg fell a little short.  Security just grabbed the woman who threw the cabbage.

 

How exciting, this is the first time a President has visited our city.  Wait, I see a small but vocal group of flag waving citizens cheering or perhaps jeering.  Look out! Look Out!  I do believe that was a stalk of celery bouncing off the forth limo or was that a scallion.  Security is fanning through the crowd grabbing anyone with vegetables and dairy. Look at that, two eggs crushed on the side of the first limo.  Here comes the National Guard.  They are moving the crowd back as the limos slowly pass by.  What a welcome for our Commander and Chief.”

 

Robert Lowe continued his incessant chatter over the airways of WSUN.  His flashy red tie flapped in the wind, as he stood tall amidst the armed security forces. 

 

Inside the third limousine, the young dazzling wife of the Mayor sat directly across from the President.  Her wool skirt rode high on her thighs.  Her darkly tinted stockings tightly contoured her lovely jambs. “Mr. President, the people of Fairmont are overwhelmed that you would pay us a visit.”  Her voice was full of admiration and respect; she broadly smiled at the President.

 

The Commander and Chief looked about.  “Excuse me, what is that dripping on the window?  I think that’s an egg.  Look, that cabbage just bounced off the roof.”  The President looked through the rear window and then to the side windows. “I’ve never seen anything like it; it’s a rain of vegetables and eggs.  Whoa, here comes a squash.”  Another egg shell and yolk slid down the window onto the door.  “Is this a farming community?”  The President looked puzzled.  The elected leader was a portly man with watery eyes, thinning gray hair, and a jovial smile.  “Such an unusual show of affection for the President,” he said softly, directing his comments to the attractive companion.  

 

“Robert Lowe, here, on the roof of the Fairmont hotel, for WSUN.  What a glorious day.  I see some signs.  Yes, I can make that one out.  It’s next to that group of flag waving citizens.  Out in 2012 you bum!  Ooh, that’s not nice, and that one next to it.  Why wait ‘till 2012 impeach the SOB now!  Do my eyes deceive me? Now that is an unusual sight, Mary Ellen Fly the Director of Right to Life holding a sign together with, none other than, Molly Faye Pritchard, the Director of the Women’s Right to Choose.  On this we agree ---this President must go!  Imagine those two together!”

 

The motorcade continued toward the Convention Center.  “Mr. President, I must tell you what a splendid day this is.” The Mayor’s wife beamed.  “I just saw Molly Pritchard, the head of the Choice Movement standing arm and arm with Mary Ellen Fly, the head of the Right to Life group here in Fairmont.”  The pretty young lady sighed with satisfaction after addressing the President.

 

“The President looked directly at the Mayor’s wife.  “I always like to feel my presence brings adversaries together.  Little else provides me more personal pleasure.”  His languid eyes drifted toward her delightful thighs then quickly glanced upward. He comfortably sat back with a fatherly smile.

 

Outside the motorcade, the security detail frantically diverted people with vegetables and eggs.  A cabbage bounced off the rear fender of the President’s car.  From the roof of the Fairmont Hotel, Robert Lowe cringed as he saw another volley of eggs crash into the motorcade.  “This is quite a day, an unusual day indeed.  Ooh yes!”  Lowe rolled his eyes and continued filling the airways with ongoing prattle. “You will hear the President’s speech live on WSUN, Fairmont

 

Those attending the President’s oration were carefully selected and paid highly for the privilege.  The packed hall held 5000 supporters, carefully screened before the arrival of the President.

 

The mayor made it clear, when addressing his lackeys that morning, no sitting President would be embarrassed in his town.  In the Hall were the major networks and a cadre of reporters and commentators.  POTUS’s entrance to the Grand Hall was eminent.  The speaker system carried the announcement, “The President has arrived in the parking area.  He will be here shortly.” Cheers erupted from the hall.  Noisemakers and clappers further buoyed the attendees.

 

At the press box, John Eagerton of the Eagle turned to Sally Myers, an editorial writer from the competing Post, and said as he leaned back, “I’m amazed that they could find 5000 people in the whole country to cheer this nincompoop, let alone from Fairmont.   She laughed, as did several other reporters in earshot.

 

The citizens on the street were not handpicked and had little difficulty expressing how they felt about the President.  One poor family huddled around their homemade sign.  ‘I’D BE HAPPY TO PAY TAXES—IF I COULD JUST GET A JOB!’   Their clothes were shabby and less than what was needed on this cool spring day. 

 

Another more affluently dressed gentleman looked somewhat out of place carrying his placard.  ‘OPEN THE BANKS – I WANT MY MONEY!’  Overhead, a bi-wing carried a banner, ‘HAIL TO THE THIEF!’  Many people from the street looked upward, pointing toward the plane, cheering and laughing.

 

“Robert Lowe, again, for WSUN.  The motorcade has entered the parking area and is about to stop at the entrance of the Grand Hall.  From where I stand, I can see the door to the President’s limo open.  I can also see other dignitaries leaving their vehicles in the motorcade.  All are now making their way to the entrance.  I must tell you security is tight.  Well, look at that, the motorcycle brigade has set up a wide cordon around the motorcade, keeping the large crowd at bay.   Above me are two well-armed Apache helicopters, whose military crews are keeping a close watch on the street.  Uniformed security continues to move the crowds further back from the motorcade.”  Lowe loosened his tie. 

 

“The President has left the vehicle with the Mayor’s wife.” Robert Lowe described the scene below him. “The Mayor is now joining them.  I hear the Fairmont High School Band playing, Hail to the Chief.  How proud they are to play for POTUS.”

 

Lowe chattered on. “There is that signature two handed wave, The President has turned, and I see that signature smile as he waves to the crowd about 200 yards distant.  The onlookers are responding to their President.  I may be wrong but overwhelming the cheers, I hear boos, catcalls, and I see profane gestures.  I truly hope the President is unaware of this raw show of emotion.”  Robert Lowe looked about and shrugged his shoulders.

 

“The President continues to smile and acknowledge the Fairmont citizens who have fared this cool weather to get a glimpse of their Commander and Chief.  I must complement the police, presidential security, and mounted officers who are doing a yeoman’s job of controlling the spectators.  The President has turned, is still smiling, still waving, and now entering the convention center.”  With his red tie flapping, his left hand on the mike, Lowe’s whole body gestured with the upward pitch of his voice.

 

Inside the Hall the President reached out and shook the many hands greeting him as he ambled toward the podium.  Shouts of good to see you, Mr. President; you’re looking well, Mr. President; bravo, Mr. President.  Love and affection filled the exhibition center for this stout energetic fellow with the moist eyes, and rubbery face.

 

The Presidential Seal had been placed at the Diaz.  He stood, both hands waving to his supporters and admirers.  The cheers and stomping were overwhelming.  The President tried to silence the throng so he could speak, but to no avail.  The festivity in his honor continued and finally after continued coaxing from the President, settled down to silence.  All sat to hear the President speak.

 

“My dear friends.” With a booming voice and slow oratory, this short, portly man spoke out.  “I love you all!”  Cheers broke out again. “We have come a long way these past 3 years.  Our military are again defeating our enemies in the Middle East. Our efforts in Eastern Europe have brought new hope to the little people who appreciate our help in their sagging economies.  We stand with our African neighbors bringing our democracy to a myriad of small countries.  And our administration will continue to bring God to the Godless.  We will never allow atheists and agnostics to keep us from this achievement.”  A crescendo of cheers and stomping filled the halls again.  Horns tooted and noisemakers clattered to further embellish the joyous atmosphere.  The President continued his electrifying oratory.

 

Outside, Fairmont citizens huddled and listened to the outdoor speakers.  One angry citizen, his poster at his side, spoke out, “Prosperity, what prosperity.  I have been out of work for a year.  If it weren’t for the Salvation Army, my family wouldn’t eat.  My unemployment check lasted 4 months.”  Close by, a woman holding her baby, softly cried.

 

One man stood by his placard.  WHAT HAPPENED TO A NATIONAL HEALTH PLAN.’ Behind him another sign read, ‘TWO FANCY BOMBERS COULD FEED THE POOR OF THE NATION!’

 

 Another gentleman’s poster read, ‘MY LAST TANK OF GAS COST MORE THAN MY CAR!’

 

The President continued to speak to the end of war.  The reconstruction of war torn countries would be his highest priority.  “I visualize a day, in the not to distant future, when the entire world will bask in our glow of freedom and prosperity.”  As the president concluded his remarks, he extolled the wonders of the United States and the luxuries available to all hard working Americans.  “Our people are blessed by God.  They are truly a chosen people.  Do not let our detractors tell you otherwise!  In God’s name we move forward to peace on earth! That is what the Lord asks of us, that is our mission!”

 

Back on the street, one homeless fellow looked at his buddy, “He’s right you know, few in the world have the opportunity to live under the 9th Street bridge.”  His friend nodded in agreement.  Another old rummy chuckled and played with the baby of a homeless woman with an expressionless stare.

 

“Robert Lowe here, WSUN.  What inspiring words from the President.  You heard it live on WSUN.  How the people love him.  I feel proud to be an American.  I know all of you listeners feel that way too.  I see them, yes the dignitaries are returning to their limos.  There’s the President, waving, throwing kisses.  There’s the Mayor’s lovely wife, at his side.  She is waving too.  The crowds are coming closer to greet the President.  The security folks are holding back those appreciative citizens.  How Fairmont is honored by this visit from the President.”

 

Lowe prattled on, “The President and the beautiful Mayor’s wife are in the car.  The escort is passing right below me.  There’s an interesting sign.  The men around it are wearing hard hats and steel worker union shirts.  I can read it.  ‘SEND HIM TO RUSSIA – LET HIM HELP THEM!’ That’s a bit unfriendly. There’s a bunch of women around that sign, ‘OUR HIGH SCHOOL GRADUATS CAN’T READ!’ There’s Mrs. Farley the English Teacher, she has a sign.  ‘BOOKS NOT BOMBS!’  There’s another interesting sign.  ‘JOBS NOT JETS!’”

 

Inside the slowly moving presidential car the occupants appeared at ease.  “Mr. President,” the Mayor’s wife remarked, “the people of Fairmont will never forget your visit.  It has been a great honor and privilege to host you.” The President smiled, languorous in appearance.

 

“Rob Lowe again, ooh that’s a sad sight.  There is a man stepping toward the vehicle wearing a sandwich sign next to his little boy.  ‘WILL WORK FOR FOOD!’ How did he get passed the barrier?  The President must have seen him.  Security got them both.”  Lowe observed them carted off. 

 

The President watched as the man and boy were removed. “What did that man have on his sign? I couldn’t read it.” 

 

“We support our President.  I’m sure that was the message.”  The Mayor’s wife smiled. 

 

“How odd, was that Brussels sprouts that just shot passed the window?” The President strained to watch the items sail by. 

 

“That was an excellent speech Mr. President.  It was an inspiring speech.  It makes me proud I am an American.”  The lovely woman, filled with joy, reached for the hand of the President.

 

The President recoiled from her attempted touch but finally fully acknowledged her.  She blushed and retreated.  He noticed her auburn hair and brown eyes, then reflected on her tight little body and then appreciated her long slender legs.  He reached forward and patted her knee.  “You are a beautiful woman; your husband is a lucky man.”  POTUS sat back and then glanced to his personal secretary. “John?”

 

“Yes Mr. President.”  An immaculately dressed man with a pencil thin mustache addressed the Chief.

 

“I have enjoyed this visit immensely.  I cannot remember another place where I have been received so warmly.  Make sure to put Fairmont on my calendar so that we may return again, in the near future.”

 

“Yes, Mr. President.”

 

The President smiled then rested his head on a small cushion placed behind him.  His expression became somewhat distant.  His watery eyes twitched and closed; content, he rested.  Two eggs splattered on the front windshield.

 

END