Mr. President stopped at the Bergman's location nearest the freeway, posed for a snapshot in a scenario that's unnatural for this burgeoning vegetable stand during high tourist season. No one else was in the photo, hence an the absence of customers. Mr. President chased away multiple times that amount of business due to security measures. No one else could shop for produce because of closed roads to that destination and many more.
Daydream imagery continues: How nice it would have been if Mr. President reimbursed the local businesses for losses incurred during high season because of various shut downs.such as roads, and air traffic.Without access to the roads, customers can't get to their usual restaurants or places to shop. With no air traffic many residents from the islands aren't shopping the usual mainland grocery places for food, or anything else. Tourist plane and helicopter flights were canceled for two days during the busiest part of the summer season.
Other meandering thoughts went to the president's clandestine path of travel. Which way did Obama's big black tour bus come to Lakeside after his speech to a small group in
A Toledo reporter appeared at the end of this CBS Morning segment. He stated that Romney needs to give some disclosure. In his transparent democratic bias, the reporter overlooked the fact that many U.S. citizens are still waiting for legitimate proof of Obama's birthplace. No wonder I prefer daydreaming to reality.
Dismayed, I turned off the TV and checked my email
for the second time that day. It was approximately
four o’clock. I would be rereading the instructions on how to file a take down of plagiarism of my work. Instead, I got
sidetracked by a targeted assignment from a site that would have paid me almost
twenty dollars for a story and photo of the president. Apparently, some editor had a finger on the
pulse of Obama’s visit, and my location, and wanted me to catch the breaking news on short notice. Of all the
things required in order for me to accept the last minute assignment, the
chance of a shower would have been eliminated. Since I would have had to ride my bike there because of closed roads, this situation would be worsened. Also, I would have needed some time for mental
preparation on how to be nice to Mr. President. I didn’t accept the assignment.
Sometimes getting rid of my scowl is as difficult as portrayed in a performance by mime artist, Marcel Marceau when he's visiting a mask maker's shop. He tries on a smiling mask and couldn't get it off. It was stuck. In this case, it’s a frown that’s been stuck
on my face.
More imaginings drifted through the remaining afternoon. I wondered if Mr. President's tour might have included
perusing the storm damage from earlier this week. I also wondered about the security on the
lake. There were only two coastguard boats
visible in attendance near the lighthouse. But he skipped that stopover. I imagine the biggest part of
the security was undercover. There’s a three story Homeland Security located
less than a mile from Bergman’s. The Danbury police were even closer.
Later, I decided to go to Waldo Pepper’s Restaurant and Tavern to have a
beer. The roads were blocked earlier, and many people working in the
hospitality business had arrived late for work.
Standing room only and the food servers were frenzied. When a singular place appeared at the
bar, I sat down next to a gentleman who
was quite curious. He didn’t acknowledge
me; but sat there frozen and looking straight ahead. The area people are generally relaxed and friendly, so I knew he wasn't local. His impenetrable façade was almost alarming. This enigmatic man was focused on
the couple to his right, and three different times brought up political issues
involving
Obama .
I studied the big guy's looks while he was turned toward this couple at the end of the bar. His head was shaved clean. He wore strange looking tinted glasses, hardly appropriate for a dimly lit bar. Even though he was sitting down, it was apparent that this man was gargantuan. I mean, he was big boned, tall and extremely physically fit. I recognized the couple as regulars around Waldo’s. They appeared reticent about getting involved in a political discussion. The questions kept coming, as the big man with the shaved head persisted. The woman really looked skeptical, and kept glancing toward me. It was one of those woman to woman intuitive exchanges that I notice a lot anymore.
I studied the big guy's looks while he was turned toward this couple at the end of the bar. His head was shaved clean. He wore strange looking tinted glasses, hardly appropriate for a dimly lit bar. Even though he was sitting down, it was apparent that this man was gargantuan. I mean, he was big boned, tall and extremely physically fit. I recognized the couple as regulars around Waldo’s. They appeared reticent about getting involved in a political discussion. The questions kept coming, as the big man with the shaved head persisted. The woman really looked skeptical, and kept glancing toward me. It was one of those woman to woman intuitive exchanges that I notice a lot anymore.
After a few sips of beer, I got bold enough to chime in on the conversation encouraged by our womanly intuitive exchanges. As the big guy kept at it, the woman offered a noncommittal question about Obama’s
citizenship. I remarked that he doesn't need to offer information about his birth place because he’s not a nominee yet. I too, tried to posture my remark within a neutral stance. The woman sort of rolled her eyes. Her
husband continued to find evasive remarks to put in. After my two cents, the big fella finally turned stiffly toward me with three frozen near-miss glances.
In any event, the conversation sort of opened up after that. The couple and myself being baby boomers spoke out against Obamacare. The big fella wanted to draw something more out of us, it seems. He looked at me once gazing through the heavily tinted glasses, through which his eyes were mostly obscured. With an exaggerated southern drawl, he talked loudly all a sudden. He persisted with nudging for a remark about the president. I wanted to see where he was going with this. "I wish he would just go away," I said, meaning Obama. The couple had finished their perch dinners, and seemed anxious to wind up and leave. They did so promptly. Then the huge man stood up and left without another word.
In any event, the conversation sort of opened up after that. The couple and myself being baby boomers spoke out against Obamacare. The big fella wanted to draw something more out of us, it seems. He looked at me once gazing through the heavily tinted glasses, through which his eyes were mostly obscured. With an exaggerated southern drawl, he talked loudly all a sudden. He persisted with nudging for a remark about the president. I wanted to see where he was going with this. "I wish he would just go away," I said, meaning Obama. The couple had finished their perch dinners, and seemed anxious to wind up and leave. They did so promptly. Then the huge man stood up and left without another word.
Where do wild imaginings take me now? First, I'm going to wonder whether the mysterious man was planted there. Was he representing some racist organization? What was up with those glasses? Were they the kind that have a hidden camera or what? Why did he leave so suddenly? Was he going to follow the couple to their destination? The only answer I know for sure is that there's a new kind of eeriness surrounding Lake Erie, and I hope this goes away, too.
Index to More Articles
