Dear Mr. President,
Christmas may be well past, but you (and other Obama faithful) seem to be in the spirit of giving.
This past weekend you kindly showed your warmth and appreciation to the American public by hosting a free concert at the Lincoln Memorial featuring some of the, ahem, best performers in the music business, such as Bruce Springsteen, U2, Beyonce, and more.
Vendors on street corners all over the city have been selling Obama memorabilia for affordable prices. Service organizations teamed up to create Manifest Hope: D.C., an art gallery on M St. featuring Obama pop art, that provided any person the opportunity to experience the Obama phenomenon in a novel (and free) way. Everywhere you look, you (or a piece of you) are being given away to anyone who ventures into the D.C. area.
But I’ve been wondering: has anyone given anything to you?
With that said, I cordially donate to you, President Barack Obama, my Georgetown student section basketball ticket for Thursday night’s home game against Big East foe West Virginia as a White House-warming gift.
Georgetown basketball is an indisputable D.C. pastime, and it would only make sense that a world-renowned basketball junkie like yourself would attend a few games a season. I mean, if you’re going to spend time playing basketball at the University of North Carolina during a primary, you might at least get to know the pride of your newly adopted hometown. With the hustle and bustle of Inauguration over and with a glimmer of potential free time on your horizon, there is no better way you can spend a Thursday night in Washington, D.C.
Now, I know that you might think you have a lot to do in your first couple of days in the office, but having too much work is not an excuse to skip the game. After all, Bush didn’t spend too much time working in the White House, and that seemed to work out fairly well for him, right?
If you accept my invitation, there’s a small catch: you have to take on the persona of a regular Georgetown student. Living like a regular Georgetown student has a few limitations the leader of the free world might not be accustomed to.
First, under no circumstance do you get preferential treatment. I’m sorry, Mr. President, but the Georgetown student section is seated based on a first-come, first-served basis. If you want to get a good seat, you have to wait in line outside of the Verizon Center in the bitter cold for a few hours just like millions had to do for your Inauguration. It sucks at first, but if you wait long enough, a strange euphoria sets in. I heard the same phenomenon occurs right before death due to exposure.
Second, you have to understand that you will not be the most powerful man in the building on Thursday. That honor belongs to John Thompson III, that steely teddy-bear upon whose back a legacy and legend ride. If you have a problem with that, we can settle the dispute in traditional basketball style—a little game of one-on-one. Be forewarned: contrary to popular belief, white boys can jump.
Lastly, you have to kick back, relax, and enjoy the game. The next four years are going to be the hardest of your entire life. If you ever need to get away from it all, you don’t have to go to a ranch in Texas. You can just go down the street, buy a ticket to a Georgetown game, have a beer with a bunch of carefree college students, and get lost in a simple yet exhilarating part of your—and our nation’s—past.
Cheers.
