Monday, December 31, 2012

To Juxtapose With My Previous Post...



I'd love to have something clever and/or snarky about the fiscal cliff, etc., but I'll defer to The Gormogons instead. Their cleverness is better than anything I could ever come up with.


Anyway...

Every year I start a post about the President's vacation in Kailua, and every year I delete it because it seems so pointless.

This year it surfaced again since we happened to be in Washington, and Barry was not. So I finally decided to tell my tale, regardless.

Normally I wouldn't give a fat rat's ass where The Pres takes his vacay, but this hits home for me. I've experienced the clusterfuck first hand.

Back in 2008, our Hawaii vacation coincided with the soon-to-be First Family's.

We had been to Kailua before. It's a very relaxed place with quiet beaches on the windward side of Oahu.

Our vacation was planned eight months in advance with a considerable amount of saving involved. Even if we knew how insane Oahu would be, changing dates was pretty much out of the question.

All traffic in the little town of Kailua came to a crushing standstill thanks to a confluence of issues: the roving bands of groupies hoping to catch a glimpse of Barry, the land-locked nature of certain areas of the town, and what I assume was the security detail for the future Pres. A trip across town that would take five minutes took nearly an hour.

The biggest travesty was the condition of two of the world's most beautiful beaches.

Instead, Kailua and Lanikai beaches looked like the Jersey Shore on the 4th of July, but with even more loutish behavior. There were people who apparently thought it was a nude beach – or just didn't care, there was public urinating, and monumental swath of garbage left behind. Apparently this is repeated every Christmas now.

My point is, if I brought that kind havoc and upheaval upon a sleepy little town, I sure as hell wouldn't do it again.


  

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