Who knew?

I have never been one of those girls that went all weak in the knees over a celebrity, a musician, or an athlete.  Nope – not even Tom Selleck got me excited back in his Magnum PI days or John Travolta either while he strutted his stuff in Grease. 

I’ve just always been of the mindset that they’re just people too. . . they put their pants on one leg at a time just like the rest of us. . . that they’re not any better than any of us.  They’re just popular.

I think it goes back to when I was little and I was playing dolls with my little neighbor girlfriends.  We were just sitting in the driveway playing Barbie and I accidentally tooted.  I really didn’t think much about it cuz heck, my daddy tooted ALL THE TIME.  But Oh my Lordie did they LAUGH and LAUGH and LAUGH at me.  I may as well have poo’d my pants right there the way they laughed at me.  I was mortified, totally embarrassed and ran home crying in shame.  My mom asked what my problem was and when I told her, she said, “Donna, even the President toots.  He just doesn’t do it on TV.”  Hmmm.  That made perfect sense to my little eight year old brain.  THEY toot too!  Ha!  But they had to act like I’d committed some gastly crime and make me feel bad.  The little bitches. 

Anyway, I say all that to finally get to my point.  Yesterday morning, I heard that Obama was going to be speaking in my little city AND that he would be speaking at the high school that I live right next door to.  Hmmm.  They said you had to have tickets but that there were none left.  So I thought, “Wow – right next door, huh?  Cool.”  Then it LEFT MY BRAIN.  Elvis left the building.

Then I’m driving down my little road going home from work yesterday and I passed an unmarked police car sitting up over the curb at an intersection.  (They call them ‘unmarked’, but you can spot one a mile away)  And my thoughts immediately went to my ghetto next door neighbors (yeah, there’s always ONE ghetto neighbor to screw up a perfectly good neighborhood) and I thought, “They’re looking for my ghetto neighbors!  I need to tell them that he got a new car!!”  (This is truly a whole post of its own someday)  But I keep rollin’ on home.  I change my clothes, stock my cooler, grab my book and head to the pool because it was a crystal clear, beautiful day.  I get out there and I see this Sheriff’s helicopter hovering over top of my house sort of in the front of it.  And it just hovered there for a LONG time.  Again, my thoughts went straight to my ghetto neighbor and thought “They’re watching him now! Yay!”  (I tell this story and everybody cracks up because they know how disturbed I’ve been by my local drug dealers, but now they’re thinking I’ve gone all obsessed on their asses.) 

Well, this helicopter just hovered for over an hour.  At first it was very annoying, but then I sort of got used to it.  A friend of mine showed up about an hour into the hovering and said, “That’s not toooooo annoying, is it?” with a hint of sarcasm thrown in.  She said, “You know WHY they’re hovering, don’t you?”  I said, “I’m hoping they’re trying to catch my drug dealer neighbor.”  She laughed and said, “NO silly!  It’s for Obama!”  Holy crap!  I forgot.  You see?  I knew about it that morning, was mildly impressed that he’d grace our little city, then TOTALLY and COMPLETELY forgot all about him.  Nope – no swooning over a ‘celebrity’ here.

But let me tell you something. . . there were plenty of people who were.   They were acting like they were going to a Jonas Brothers concert.  Fans, you might lightly say.  There were people parking all over the place all in my neighborhood walking, trying to get in, but all the tickets were gone.  I heard stories about people begging to just shake Obama’s hand or have a picture taken with him as he exited the building.  It was crazy!  Now I see why he had all that security.  But to me – he’s just another man.  Who just happens to be interesting, charismatic, and running for President.  Just that.  I guess that sort of thing blows some people’s skirt up.  Just not mine.

One thing I DID notice though. . . my little drug dealer buddies next door were nowhere to be seen last night.  Not with all those policemen around.  Marked or unmarked.  A little too close for comfort, I think.