An American Lion

In an unapologetically self-centered America, the President can’t even play golf without some sob sister crying about how he should be in Washington D.C., doing nothing.

Allow me to explain what’s wrong with this picture:

It’s December 23rd - I lug my tired butt to the airport, ready to leave for vacation. Carrying a bottle of very nice wine, I have to leave my place in the security line as I can’t bring it as a carry-on, check it in a bag, get a special box, go through security again and hope I - and my fancy wine - arrive intact. Despite some turbulence, we do.

It’s December 24th - I’m keeping track of some winter storms that could affect a few arrivals here and there. The weather could screw up air travel. That was the big fear. Weather.

It’s Christmas day, and the only thing that stopped 12/25 from feeling a lot like 9/11 was a failed detonator and a guy named Jasper Schuringa. Weather now seems like a quaint travel threat - like a cold does compared to the Bubonic Plague.

It’s December 26th, and the last of my guests arrive keenly aware of what happened over the skies of Detroit. Across America, everybody’s gut tightens and old fears and old wounds re-open.

Meanwhile, the president continues his vacation. News that he hit the gym 15 minutes after being briefed on the attack - and had a lovely time playing golf later that day - begin to trickle in.

America lucked out this holiday season. It’s as simple as that. Something terrible could have happened and It was the bravery of passengers, and the ineptitude of a would-be terrorist, that prevented it.

Not the police bottlenecking the only road into the airport. Not the nice lady making sure my liquids were in the right containers. Not the german shepherd sniffing my boy parts.

It was luck.

And if you’re like me - that scared the crap out of you. You probably wanted assurances. What will be done to prevent this? How are we reacting?

If you’re like me, you’re not looking for Attorney General Eric Holder, or Representative Pete King to be telling you how it could have been worse or how it will be managed.

When the nation is attacked, I expect to be informed and hopefully calmed by the President of the United States.

The nation wasn’t attacked. A plane with innocent people onboard was attacked. The rest of the country couldn’t care less. Oh, sure. It’s a great story. It helps the incompetent, reactionary media sell papers, even though they don’t really sell papers much anymore. But the American people couldn’t give a toss. They couldn’t care less about the danger faced by those people, and they couldn’t care less about the permanent war and the permanent state of danger faced by American troops every single day.

Years ago, I watched a documentary about the U.S. Rangers who were cut off and surrounded in Mogadishu, Somalia in 1993. One Ranger remarked that, as he and his friends were being killed by a relentless assault, that, “back home,” people were going about their business and had no idea what he was facing. So long as no one is shooting at them or blowing them up, the American people simply don’t care. Being frightened, and wishing that the President would do something is straight out of the book of delusions and fantasies.

Bush didn’t care and Obama doesn’t care. This White House doesn’t even make the half-hearted attempt to show a difference between the two men. That this President would go golfing after what happened—and after sending thousands more U.S. troops to his own special quagmire in the making—demonstrates that this administration thinks you should take your self-centered concerns and go pound sand.

If you’re afraid of terrorism, then you need to cowboy up. Important people have a golf game to get to. And if you’re reading this on a hand-held device in an airport somewhere, put this down and call your family and tell them you love them before you get on the plane. They’re the only ones who care what happens to you, and your government has better things to do.