Plenipotentiary

My son went to school today in tears.

The snuffling, I Can’t Breathe kind of tears that wear a person out.

I can’t find his shirt. This is the reason my son can’t breathe.

I have torn this house apart. I have looked at every scrap of fabric that could maybe be his choir shirt. I’m exhausted from the search. The house is a mess. That shirt is simply not here.

He is singing at City Hall today, and I can’t find his shirt.

I have called all the people he’s seen in the last month – grandparents, uncles, etc. No shirt. I have looked in every closet, every laundry basket, every pile of clothing stashed behind the bed so Mom doesn’t see it. I have pulled out the ‘one day I’ll actually take this box to Goodwill’ box. No shirt.

He has no choir shirt. And he has three choir performances this week. I feel sick.

I called his teacher, and she has an extra that he can wear today. Disaster staved off one more day.  She gets to be the one to tell him his life isn’t over (he’s 12, see, so finding a shirt for him means new life).  But we have two more to go.

Where the HELL is that shirt!

Someone Threw a Shoe at My President.

I have disliked this man since he was first introduced to me. I didn’t like him, didn’t like his politics, didn’t like his face. I didn’t vote for him.

I didn’t like the holier-than-thou affront which they hit us with, while hiding skeletons in their own closets. I didn’t like the call-to-arms they offered. I didn’t like the money dripping off of them, the unreachable legacy behind them. I didn’t like the way they tried to make decisions for me, without asking me first.

I did like the way he threw a ball. Well done.

I didn’t like the way they wage war. I think they were unjust.

But when my President had to duck from a shoe, I was embarrassed for my country.

Whether I like the man or not (And I think I do; while I strongly disagree with him, I think I actually like him), who was watching out for Our Man? The best trained defense force in the history of the world let some angst-ridden idiot throw not one, but both shoes at My Man?

I’m a little stirred up about that.

No matter what else, he is the President of the United States. He has earned and deserves my respect. I could not do his job, and he did better than I ever would have. He has earned the respect of his position and title, and all proud Americans will recognize that.

I offer my sincere apology to my President. If I had been there, I would’ve tried harder, been better. I wouldn’t have let you be embarrassed that way.

Because whatever ‘lame duck’ jokes get passed down, you did what I could never have done, and in a crazy time. I think history will treat you more kindly than the current world is doing. I think the future will show your worth.

Don’t get me wrong – I campaigned for Obama. But I love you. You are my President. You took me through some tough times. (Occasionally, you did it with a really silly face.)

I am a Patriot. You are the President. I would die for you, as you are more important than I am.

Sincerely.

Cam