King Clinton

I didn't get to write this yesterday because the Zquil worked too well, but I just wanna say that it's always a pleasure to see the King Bill Clinton on TV. I would vote him into a third term if it were possible. Perhaps I'm endeared to him because I grew up with him as president from age ten to eighteen.

Growing up in DC, you never knew when you might run into him. I remember going to McDonald's one day only to hear that he'd just been there about thirty minutes earlier. That was back when he used to jog around the city. He always seemed sincere to me. I'd like to think that I'm good at reading people and seeing through bullshit. I met him once. Either he's sincere or he's a Sith Lord when it comes to fronting.

In the eighth grade I wrote a little essay for something called The Smoke-Free Class of 2000. I did it just to get out of doing real schoolwork. I talked about how Joe Camel was a lure to trick me into buying lung cancer. The essay was good enough for my teacher to tell me that I was gonna be on Nickelodeon with President Clinton to talk about that very issue. I already thought I was the shit back then, so that just put my ego in the stratosphere. I went around telling everybody how Bill Clinton asked for me directly and that it was just gonna be me in him sitting on a couch like Arsenio in front of a live studio audience.

Nope.

Apparently I was gonna be one of about fifteen kids, it was gonna be taped and politicians do photo ops like that all the time. No matter, I was still excited. Not even the Guantanamo Bay style security could get me down. They didn't even tell us where we were going. The permission slip just said, "Undisclosed Location." We ended up at some building downtown and, although they said we were getting the lite treatment because we were kids, I had a better experience with security going to visit people in prison.

"Pee now, because if you leave this room we're gonna search you again."
"I can't guarantee that we'll let you back in the room if you leave to use the bathroom."
"We can't tell you when he's coming. It's a matter of national security. No, we can't guarantee you'll be done by the time school let's out. No, you can't call your parents to tell them you may be late."
"POTUS is in the building. From this point forward do not go put your hands into your pockets or behind your back. Don't make any sudden movements and do not advance towards him unless he asks you to."

I really wanted to ask, "Have y'all shot children before, because you seem really comfortable saying these things to us."

So right before my moment of fame and glory arrived, the producer comes up and tells me and another kid that they've cut the number of kids down by two. We wouldn't get to be on camera with him, "But you get an even better job. You get to be an alternate! That means you get to watch!"
Me: "Ooooh Ahhh"
Her: But watch from all the way over there behind those security checkpoints.

So there I sat eating cold pizza and warm Sprite while I watched the other (inferior) children steal my glory. And about two feet away from me stood Secret Service Guy #14 watching my every move (and chew) as if I was gonna go MacGuyver on them and rig together a hand grenade out of a half empty Sprite can and a pizza crust.

When it was over the producer told me and the other kid that we could go up to the set and have a quick Q&A with him and the other (not nearly as cute) kids. Some little bastard dominated the conversation, so I couldn't get a word in. I sat there trying not to show how sad and disappointed I was, and then I heard, "What do you think, Ordale? You haven't had a chance to speak yet."

First off, I didn't get a chance to introduce myself to this man. He read my name tag and got my name right on the first try. That NEVER happens. There are people in my immediate family who still pronounce it wrong. The leader of the free world, William Jefferson Clinton, just said my name and said it correctly! Inside, I was jumping up and down like one of those girls at a Michael Jackson concert. I kept it cool though.

No sooner than I got a sentence out, that little bastard chimed in with his two cents and cut me off. Normally, I would've cursed his ass out, but I was in front of the President, so I ceded the floor. And then..."I'm sorry (insert little bastard's name), but I really wanna let Ordale finish. He's been sitting over there so patiently and you and I have already had a chance to talk for while. Let's let him finish his thought." My mouth was wide open. THANK YOU, BILL CLINTON!!!

It sounds corny, but I honestly got the feeling that he cared about what I had to say. Realistically, there was nothing profound coming out of my mouth. I couldn't influence policy. Hell, it would be five years before I'd be old enough to vote. The cameras had stopped rolling long before I walked up to him. There was nothing in it for him, but for two minutes he sat there and talked to me. It wasn't a one sided thing either. He didn't let me give my spiel and then follow up with an "uh-huh, next person." We actually had a real conversation. Then it was over and he had to go. He put his arm on my shoulder, shook my hand and said "It was really nice to meet you. You take care."

In reality the Secret Service whisked him away, but in my mind...He walked to the nearest window, pulled his cape out of his suit and flew back to the White House.