New Archive:
January 2001 Issue
What are We Fighting For?
By Rob Dixter
When I finally left home after years of a Jewish mother following me around
with a washcloth, and moved out on my own, the one thing that went through
my mind was freedom.
I was finally going to be living the life I had read and seen so much about in films and books like Animal House and Are You There God? It's Me Margaret. The fridge would be full of beer and there would be an endless parade of ladies dressed so scantily Britney Spears would call for advice.
Of course none of this ever happened. I did move out but the excitement
was limited to hearing my roommate snore to the same beat as the theme
music from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Perhaps things are a little different
if you happen to be the President of the United States.
. It might be hard to picture Bill Clinton in an old sweatsuit surrounded by brown boxes as he places carefully wrapped mementos aside and reflects on where he got all the junk. The empty Vodka bottles he shared with Yeltsin will be cast aside as easily as the maple syrup Christmas present from Jean Chretien.
When Bill entered the oval office he made it his own by using an old desk from 1880 that was first used by JFK. Now that desk and all the pictures hanging on the walls, including one of J.J. Walker signed "To Bill, Dyno-mite!" will get shipped out in order to make room for the next tenant. It seems kind of harsh to not only lose your job but also your domicile. That's like telling the manager of McDonalds you're fired but you still need to eat this food everyday.
Some people like to take advantage of guest quarters or staying in a hotel and usually leave the place a total mess as though rock stars had partied there with their groupies and lawyers. But I hope Bill has a little respect for ol' 1600 and leaves the place like he found it, which according to George Stephanopoulos was without any computers. (Now that explains the Microsoft antitrust trial).
But Bill, if you do decide to leave the White House with a mischievous tone, and are looking to play a little joke on the Republicans, you cannot go wrong with hiding some blue cheese behind the sofa or puting the house on the market in The Washington Post.
I am quite sure that the last thing the President will miss about living on Pennsylvania Avenue will be the visitors. The White House is open to tours all while you are trying to run a country at the same time, in fact while you are trying to live there, hoping to figure out where the cable wire is coming from.
George W. Bush strikes me as the kind of guy looking to throw a party now that the parents are out of town. The only problem being that this immense white mansion is precisely that, a home.
George needs to make the home his and put his stamp on it. His father spent $28,500 on a carpet for the oval office. Being that Junior is from Texas, I hope he puts bulls' horns all over the place and orders the chefs to cook all state dinners with salsa and BBQ sauce.
The first order of business on any new lodging, whether it is the White House or just a white house, is putting up the mezuzah. It should be placed on the right hand side a third of the way down from the top. Since it is the White House, one of those fancy marble mezuzahs wouldn't hurt, and George could even invite all his Jewish friends like Steven Spielberg and Woody Allen to help him. (Now if Joe Lieberman were the Vice President, you can be sure he would even nail the blessing correctly).
The first meal in your new home is always tricky, as none of the furniture is in place yet, if it has arrived at all. I don't know if the President needs to worry about Seaman's delivering on time, but he should probably be ready to have that first meal on the floor.
It may be a new beginning, but it feels like you have been relegated to dog status eating on the floor over old newspaper. What would Lincoln have said? (As long as they stayed out of his bedroom, I doubt he would have minded.)
When I first moved out I was expecting people named Bluto to drop by unannounced. That might happen even if you are the President of the United States, but I'm sure the secret service would probably frisk him first.
The new place never turns out the way you envisioned it. So my advice for George is to roll with it; to design your office the way you want and with what makes you comfortable for making big decisions (as long as I don't see any Rugrats posters on the walls). Who knows, in four years, you might be moving again.
Rob
Dixter is a freelance writer in New York City. And he's a very serious guy.
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