Obama went to India for a three-day trip hoping to improve relations and work on international peace and all those other things beauty pageant contestants want when it’s their turn to speak while they’re still dressed in statesmanlike swimsuits and high heels. Personally, I wish Obama would push for more understanding when it comes to dealing with the telephone clerks when I try to clear up a credit card bill.
Naturally, the government of India wants to ensure the safety of our president. Public relations might sour considerably were Obama to be attacked by crazed mobs reeking of curry and shouting “Allah u Akkkkkhbarrrrr!” Every precaution must be taken, from the motor pool to the hotel pool.
Interest in the details of the trip has gave rise to some exaggerations of the cost of security. Some bloggers claimed that 34 ships AND an aircraft carrier would be on hand, a claim debunked by a Pentagon spokesman. After all, if you can’t trust a Pentagon spokesman, whom can you trust? Estimates of the cost of the trip rose to $200 million a day. This claim was refuted by Tim Geithner, Obama’s Secretary of the Treasury, who is very careful when it comes to money, especially when it comes to paying his taxes.
Okay, I made that up. Except the part about Geithner being Secretary of the Treasury. And that should tell you everything you need to know about this administration.
A lot of planning goes into any presidential appearance: parade routes, hotel safety, overhead flights, crowd control, menu selection. Of COURSE the menu has to be approved. He was going to India. Spicy food is to be expected, but you sure don’t want one of those bhut jolokias slipping in on a tray of canapes. The bhut jolikia, or ghost pepper, is native to India and makes the habanera pepper seem like raisins in comparison. According to the Scoville Scale of Pepper Hotness they are 400 times hotter than Tabasco sauce. Some intrepid voyager into food hell who ate one said it was like eating glass.
Nothing was overlooked, including one detail most people would never have remotely considered – removing dangerous coconuts that might land on the noggin of someone with the power to launch nuclear missiles. Imagine having to explain this to others.
"You have to WHAT?! No, really. What do you have to do? You're kidding, right? You . . . have . . . to . . . remove . . . co-co-nuts. Coconuts. You have to remove coconuts. So they don't fall on his head, right? Coconuts?"
We all know those coconuts have a mind of their own when it comes to landing on the head of heads of state. Especially the president of the United States. One who's so full of himself that even coconuts pose a danger to his safety.
Hmp. And I wasted my life going to college to get a degree. I guess this is one job nobody minds getting exported.
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