| X-Sender: seedyeye@pop.erols.com (Unverified) Date: Sat, 06 Dec 1997 15:33:38 -0500 To: eyemkent@silcom.com From: "Christian D. Isaly" <seedyeye@erols.com> Subject: A small town Ohio boy Mime-Version: 1.0 Dear Kent, It all started with a "how ya doing" call from my friend the activist lawyer, Amy Slemmer. During the conversation, she casually asked if I would like to see the Christmas decorations at the White House. Then she meekly said that it might be too late for the needed security clearance, so it may not happen. At this point, I knew that this wouldn't be the usual candlelight tour offered the general public. Amy, on the other hand, didn't know what the invitation was all about. I went to bed that evening not even sure I would go (because of her late invitation). Yesterday I went about my business going to my respiratory therapy class early then finished off some work at NAMES. Then the call came, she told me not only that I would be going, but that the President and First Lady were home. Now, I'm not dense but I am somewhat fatalistic. I calmly put together a complete wardrobe change and made ready to meet Amy at her office thinking little of the ramifications of the First Family's attendance. It was in the cab that Amy laid out what she knew about the evening. This would be no 10c tour. We were guests of the President and Mrs. Clinton. Where do I begin? Should I tell you about the security stuff? Identical to an airline trip, really. Just show picture ID and walk through that scanner X-ray thing and the Secret Service watching. The group, probably 2- 3 hundred was jubilant, not the usual airport crowd. The Presidential Marine guard greeted us with "Welcome to the White House" Our coats were checked then we traversed around the First Ladies Garden to the reception hall. It was there that we were given a card with the assigned time to meet Bill & Hil, that's what I call them now. Amy and I took the small elevator (complete with operator) up to the first floor where we found the first of the food. Amy the old hand at such things led me from ballroom to libraries insisting that I look out this window or see that Eagle legged Baby Grand. You know, as we approached the White House by cab, we saw the Nation's Christmas Tree it was OK if you like ornaments the size of a giants Frisbee with an unnatural perfect order in their arrangement. The view of that same tree from the first floor with the Washington monument just to the left and the Jefferson Monument discreetly in the distant to the right with no other distractions in the still of the night was awesome. I would want my best friends to share that same view too. We strolled from room to ballroom looking at our nations First Home in all the season's finest. Each room had a Christmas tree. Hillary had her doll tree in the Green Room with handmade dolls from each state of the union and a quilted skirt for the tree with patches in the outline of each. There were so many Christmas trees that I stopped noticing the themes and just took in the warmth that the decorations added to the museum of rooms that I'd been guided through before. In fact it was about this time I was overcome with the privilege I was enjoying. Walking through these rooms siting on settees and wingbacks that in previous visits were all but roped off to tired tourists. I could take my time look as close to any piece of furniture I wanted, study official oils of Jackie and ships that previously only library books would provide. The guests this evening we figured were the men and women who worked with health care reform issues; agencies and aides of the congress people involved. There were also satellite union groups even what Amy called the gay Mafia. In the dinning room, we feasted on mounds of shrimp, platters of stuffed lamb chops and trays of tasty and impressive food, forgotten today. We were too busy mingling with the movers and shakers for me to remember. Amy, the one with the invitation, knew loads of them and introductions were made. Fortunately for me, I comfortably listened to their shop talk and law school reminiscence. I'm in awe of those who can do cocktail Chit chat intelligently with ease. I probably could hold my own if they had a topic, say twentieth century art or contemporary gay writers. Alas, those never came up. Also, I was still stunned by it all. I was introduced to the latest AIDS Czar, heard all about her World AIDS day super-human marathon appearances. Amy's group continued conversations down to the hall outside the Map Room where we waited to meet the President and First Lady. A staffer examined the cards we had filled out making sure they we legible. She told me that the strap from my oxygen tank bunched up my jacket. Suggested that I may want to hold it in my left hand while shaking Bill's hand with my right so that I may have a presentable photo taken. Twenty minutes went by. Amy said that they probably weren't there yet. By the by, the whole time in queue, trays of wine, sparkling water or OJ were offered. Ten minutes had passed when there was a commotion ahead. A nudge from Amy and I looked up in time to see Bill's presidential entrance. As Amy predicted, things did move quickly after that. Through the Map Room and into an unnamed one the appointment card was once more looked over, this time by a military staffer. She read the name aloud this time checking pronunciation. The next person down this gauntlet took the card read my name aloud to me and handed it to the man behind the microphone. Amy was announced first two beats before her hand shook Mr. Clinton's. Ms.Slemmer told the President about her hope for greater needle exchange funding. His response was something about the good work his appointed Czar was doing. A graceful turn of his body hand extended a sharp smile of relief. Our eyes met the photo's flash exploded, hand shook. I met the Leader of our country. Four steps away the First Lady was talking to Amy. They had friends in common. Amy introduced me to her friend Mrs. Clinton. I said, "You are really pretty", and smiled I meant it she's a knock out! We went back upstairs to the warmth of the ballroom, three round tables of dessert and a Marine Swing Band, complete with female vocalist. I was ready for something sweet. Amy would have some later all the foods were works of Christmas art, but the deserts were in their element. We strolled the rooms again, I found a bench window side that was more welcome relief than I knew was needed. Ms. Slemmer found that spot cooling. The main event behind us, I became more aware of mix dress and demeanor of others as they passed our vantage. Women in evening gowns or business suit. There were men mostly in dark suits or navy blazer and gray slacks. Novices like old hands or me like Amy. It is Christmas and there's magic enough for everyone. My favorite was the portly pop and son in matching blazer and power tie. The music in the ballroom called to us. We danced out onto the floor joining the others. Among the ten or so couples were members of the gay Mafia. Man to man woman to woman swaying to the tunes of the hour. Amy & I smiled as we danced. The only people who appeared to notice the couple configuration were the ones playing the music. I could write more. There was so much - like the high style of the restroom, but I'll leave some for your imagination. Christmas has arrived! I was a guest at the White House, where I dined, danced and met the President and his lovely Wife. |
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Lovely Chill |
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