Self-affirmations
Clio was using the last few minutes of her White House lunch hour to open her mail. Her last set of lab tests totaled $2,001; patient co-pay responsibility, $203. She was the kind of person the insurance companies hated to have in the system, even though the truth was that her doctor's hyper-vigilant monitoring of her HIV infection was keeping her from having astronomical hospitalization bills. She popped the lunchtime portion of her 30 daily pills into her mouth, took a few swallows of water, and got up to return to her post as butler. I am a mother and a friend and a valued employee. I deserve medical care to stay alive. She blew her nose, looked in the mirror, and reached for her make-up bag to add some artificial glow to her sallow complexion. She kissed a framed photo of her twins, then headed out.
A couple miles to the north, Liv Cigemeier was also pushing herself out of her lunch hour and back to work. I am a valued employee. I am helping the less fortunate build better lives for themselves. She walked into the International Development Machine conference room for a presentation by Bo-Oz on their newest 5G consulting recommendation, picked up the colorful handout full of maps, pie charts, bar graphs, and photographs of frowning Colombian children, and then looked up at the first presentation slide: "Channeling cocaine revenue to the people that need it the most." Cigemeier grimaced, put down her pen, and picked up a Bo-Oz labeled chocolate mint from the snack plate.
A couple miles to the east, a Government Printing Office police officer was just returning from Union Station, still wiping chocolate chip mint ice cream off his face, pondering whether he was ready to go after something more challenging--like guarding the Federal Reserve! He leaned over to look in his police car rear-view mirror to make sure his moustache was clean. I am a brave and skilled police officer. I play an important role in guarding our nation's government workers. ("Get 'em!") The officer turned around to see a pudgy, middle-aged caucasian male with a crew cut running as fast as he could [not very fast] away from the loading dock. ("He started a fire in the east store room!") The officer jumped into his car, started the engine, turned on the lights and siren, then sped down the driveway--only to slam on his brakes because North Capitol Street was jammed with cars and he couldn't get out. He jumped out of the GPO police car and started running after the suspect, now half a block away. The officer fired his gun into the air to clear the pedestrians off the sidewalk, but the arsonist joined the others in jumping off the sidewalk and got lost in the crowd. Then two D.C. policemen on horseback galloped over and ordered the GPO police officer to holster his gun.
The arsonist struggled to catch his breath as he watched the police officers arguing, then rejoined the crowd of pedestrians resuming their place on the sidewalk. I'm good! They can't touch me! He followed the walk signal across Massachusetts Avenue. Wasting taxpayer money on elitist propaganda prepared by the corrupt intelligentsia for the bourgeois sheep! Ha! He decided to continue his plan of establishing an alibi by attending a presentation at the Washington legislative office of the Sierra Club, and a few minutes later he was scowling at the pretentious drop-leaf ceiling art above the perky Sierra Club receptionist. "I'm Glenn Michael Beckmann," he said, "and I'm on the list. Put a check mark by my name!" He turned on his secret tape recorder and walked into the conference room.
Over on Capitol Hill, Congressman Herrmark walked into the hearing room for his first pointless debate on President Obama's new jobs bill. He--along with 90% of his party--would just vote as their leadership told them to. If we can't squeeze any earmarks in, what does it matter? Ann Bishis sat down dutifully behind him--he used to bring her because she was a woman and because she never yawned, but he found himself listening to his (young!) counsel more frequently since she saved his ass in the Mia crisis. He turned to the second page of his notes and saw that Bishis had inserted a yellow post-it note with a sketch of King Kong on the Empire State Building, followed by the words "King C.O.N.G. - Coal, Oil, Nukes, Gas". He turned and smiled at her, grateful that she always took the time to insert something for him to smile about during these blowhard sessions. I am a U.S. Congressman. I am serving my constituents. I-- A commotion behind him erupted upon the spilling of coffee on the carpeting. "Not me! I'm playing the Mormon card!" joked a young scrub-face in a cheap suit, only to be met with no laughter and lots of glaring. "We don't drink caffeinated beverages, right?" Ann Bishis laughed politely, then exchanged a glance with Congressman Herrmark.
Back at the White House, President Obama was gargling with mouthwash before his next meeting. I'm the President of the United States. I WILL get people back to work! He took a deep breath and stepped out, unwittingly puncturing his left sole on a thumb tack in the carpet.
Out in the river, Ardua of the Potomac was already bored with Congress and looking forward to the launch of the next Supreme Court season...and the Pentagon's growing involvement in a land war in Africa.
***************
Washington Water Woman is heading out of town and will return to blogging in October.
A couple miles to the north, Liv Cigemeier was also pushing herself out of her lunch hour and back to work. I am a valued employee. I am helping the less fortunate build better lives for themselves. She walked into the International Development Machine conference room for a presentation by Bo-Oz on their newest 5G consulting recommendation, picked up the colorful handout full of maps, pie charts, bar graphs, and photographs of frowning Colombian children, and then looked up at the first presentation slide: "Channeling cocaine revenue to the people that need it the most." Cigemeier grimaced, put down her pen, and picked up a Bo-Oz labeled chocolate mint from the snack plate.
A couple miles to the east, a Government Printing Office police officer was just returning from Union Station, still wiping chocolate chip mint ice cream off his face, pondering whether he was ready to go after something more challenging--like guarding the Federal Reserve! He leaned over to look in his police car rear-view mirror to make sure his moustache was clean. I am a brave and skilled police officer. I play an important role in guarding our nation's government workers. ("Get 'em!") The officer turned around to see a pudgy, middle-aged caucasian male with a crew cut running as fast as he could [not very fast] away from the loading dock. ("He started a fire in the east store room!") The officer jumped into his car, started the engine, turned on the lights and siren, then sped down the driveway--only to slam on his brakes because North Capitol Street was jammed with cars and he couldn't get out. He jumped out of the GPO police car and started running after the suspect, now half a block away. The officer fired his gun into the air to clear the pedestrians off the sidewalk, but the arsonist joined the others in jumping off the sidewalk and got lost in the crowd. Then two D.C. policemen on horseback galloped over and ordered the GPO police officer to holster his gun.
The arsonist struggled to catch his breath as he watched the police officers arguing, then rejoined the crowd of pedestrians resuming their place on the sidewalk. I'm good! They can't touch me! He followed the walk signal across Massachusetts Avenue. Wasting taxpayer money on elitist propaganda prepared by the corrupt intelligentsia for the bourgeois sheep! Ha! He decided to continue his plan of establishing an alibi by attending a presentation at the Washington legislative office of the Sierra Club, and a few minutes later he was scowling at the pretentious drop-leaf ceiling art above the perky Sierra Club receptionist. "I'm Glenn Michael Beckmann," he said, "and I'm on the list. Put a check mark by my name!" He turned on his secret tape recorder and walked into the conference room.
Over on Capitol Hill, Congressman Herrmark walked into the hearing room for his first pointless debate on President Obama's new jobs bill. He--along with 90% of his party--would just vote as their leadership told them to. If we can't squeeze any earmarks in, what does it matter? Ann Bishis sat down dutifully behind him--he used to bring her because she was a woman and because she never yawned, but he found himself listening to his (young!) counsel more frequently since she saved his ass in the Mia crisis. He turned to the second page of his notes and saw that Bishis had inserted a yellow post-it note with a sketch of King Kong on the Empire State Building, followed by the words "King C.O.N.G. - Coal, Oil, Nukes, Gas". He turned and smiled at her, grateful that she always took the time to insert something for him to smile about during these blowhard sessions. I am a U.S. Congressman. I am serving my constituents. I-- A commotion behind him erupted upon the spilling of coffee on the carpeting. "Not me! I'm playing the Mormon card!" joked a young scrub-face in a cheap suit, only to be met with no laughter and lots of glaring. "We don't drink caffeinated beverages, right?" Ann Bishis laughed politely, then exchanged a glance with Congressman Herrmark.
Back at the White House, President Obama was gargling with mouthwash before his next meeting. I'm the President of the United States. I WILL get people back to work! He took a deep breath and stepped out, unwittingly puncturing his left sole on a thumb tack in the carpet.
Out in the river, Ardua of the Potomac was already bored with Congress and looking forward to the launch of the next Supreme Court season...and the Pentagon's growing involvement in a land war in Africa.
***************
Washington Water Woman is heading out of town and will return to blogging in October.
posted by washingtonwaterwoman | 1:16 PM
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